Sometimes when I play a video game, I want to immerse myself in a titan of gameplay innovation or storytelling, surrender myself to the artists’ vision, inhabit an avant-garde, disruptive work. Sometimes, I just want to be a snake.

To say that the independent video game scene has produced some of the greatest platformers of the last two decades would be a criminal understatement. While many triple-A developers still scoff at design reminiscent of the past, many indie developers lean into what made that genre so beloved and seek to expand upon it. For someone whose bread and butter in the interactive entertainment realm are platformers, I’ve had no shortage of inspired experiences. That said, few platformers in recent years have brought such a consistent smile to my face as 2017’s Snake Pass and 2019’s Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair. At first glance, the comparisons are not immediately obvious: the former is a 3D puzzle-platformer while the latter is a level-based 2D platformer in the vein of Donkey Kong Country. Where they converge, however, is in their subtle spins on platforming formulae, the zen-like mood the games’ rhythms inspired in me, and their desire to challenge players despite their kid-friendly aesthetics. The fact that their animal protagonists are from the same taxonomic class is purely coincidental… I think. 

Reinventing the wheel 

Snake Pass’ core concept is innovation through restriction at its best. We have here a platformer where the main character cannot jump but instead has to navigate the environment by coiling Noodle (yes, the snake’s name is Noodle and it’s adorable) around objects and pushing off them to the next object. Propelling Noodle’s head forward, raising Noodle’s head, and tightening his grip are controlled by individual buttons, but the left analog stick only turns his head. To get him to keep moving, you have to slither from side to side with the head and his body will follow - you know, like a snake. Tightening Noodle’s grip will help him stay on a pole, but he will be very difficult to move, so making progress is a matter of getting in a position where you can safely reach out to the next gripping point and making sure you have enough length behind you to push you forward. If you want to pull a lever, just curl yourself around it and strain towards where you want it to go. If it sounds like I’m getting tangled up trying to explain these controls, that is not a reflection of their intuition. Movement in 3D platformers is often taken for granted, but taking the ability to just point the stick in one direction away from the player, and having this long body trailing behind you to manage, strengthens the connection between player and snake in a way that I found thoroughly engrossing.

Unlike the standalone Snake Pass, Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair had a haunted past looming over it. The spin-off follow-up to an underwhelming Kickstarter collectathon, it had to convince fans that Playtonic still had their design chops beyond cheeky British witticisms, googly eyes, and delightful music. Taking a step back from the 3D Banjo Kazooie to reference Rare’s older Donkey Kong Country games proved to be the answer. No longer did the indie team have to fill vast levels with content; restricted to a 2D plane, they could instead focus on how to innovate on this tried-and-tested formula, and they do precisely that upon booting up the game. You’re immediately thrust into the final level, the titular Impossible Lair, which will swiftly murder your hopes and dreams. After your inevitable defeat, you have the opportunity to explore a top-down overworld where you’ll find each of the game’s 2D levels. Every level you beat grants you an extra hit point when you retry the Impossible Lair.

Leaving the lair aside for a bit, this overworld is way more fun to explore than it has any right to be. It’s packed with puzzles, funny NPC’s, and hidden collectibles from those extra hit point bees to equippable power-up tonics. What is most impressive about this structure of choosing levels from an explorable overworld is that Yooka’s moveset is nearly 100% consistent with what he can do inside the levels: jump, roll, ground pound, pick up berries with his tongue, even do that Donkey Kong roll jump for some extra distance. Rather than feeling like a glorified menu disconnected from the meat of the gameplay, Impossible Lair’s  level-select is a neat addition to an already satisfying gameplay loop. The stand-out innovation that this interconnectivity brings is the ability to change the properties of every single level in the game by completing a puzzle  on the overworld. Some of these solutions have some really creative effects, like having a frog cast his fishing line into a level’s book and pulling out the entire top half of the level so you may explore the underground sections. Another favourite is Queasy Quay, in which you can flip the book on its side to rotate the entire level by 90 degrees and scale it vertically. For an indie team without a huge budget, taking existing levels and remixing their mechanics is a great way to make resources go further, and the way Impossible Lair does it gives Playtonic a chance to flex their creative muscles at the same time. 

In addition to all this is the tonic risk-reward system, which can make your time in each level easier or harder. Beneficial tonics, such as giving Yooka more invincibility frames after taking damage, will decrease how many quills (this game’s currency) you receive at the end of a level. Naturally, disadvantageous tonics, like scrambling your controls and flipping the entire screen upside down, will net you more quills, which you can then spend to unlock more tonics and access parts of the overworld more quickly. This is the core gameplay loop of Yooka Laylee and it’s bloomin’ genius. I devour self-imposed challenge systems like this as a way to extend replayability and get more goodies earlier. Impossible Lair feels like the kind of game where if even one element were removed from its gameplay loop, the result would be a very competent but middling platformer: compared to its contemporaries, its level design and set-pieces are nowhere near as explosive as Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze, for example. Taken as a whole, though, what we have here is an addictive little piece that will have you telling yourself “Just ONE more level”. 

Jungle Jams

When the music in a platformer syncs up with your character’s animations and you feel like you’re cruising through a kinetic symphony, that’s when a game soundtrack attains legendary status in my eyes. Snake Pass and Yooka-Laylee ATIL’s OST’s don’t only deliver this feeling in spades, but they are bursting with bangers across the board. I suppose that is to be expected, as another thing these two games share is the influence of legendary Rare composer David Wise (see, I knew this comparison wasn’t completely tenuous). Wise’s trademark atmospheric jungle beats perfectly accompany Snake Pass’ rhythm of slowly clambering across obstacles. The drums driving you to climb that next cliff face, those peppy xylophones, and the soothing flutes all combine to create this zen-like atmosphere. Although it is not the most extensive soundtrack, accompanying the natural rhythm of raising Noodle’s head, wrapping it around something, tensing up, and letting the rest of the body follow, playing Snake Pass feels like you’re going to ascend to a higher plane of existence. It is among Wise’s best work and easily deserves to be considered alongside his famous Donkey Kong Country soundtracks.   

In addition to Wise, Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair also features the talents of Banjo Kazooie grandee Grant Kirkhope and new talent Dan Murdoch and Matt Griffin. The resulting compositions form a soundtrack of startlingly consistent quality. I cannot commend their combined efforts enough. I struggle to recall a soundtrack from which I have derived so much joy, though the closest comparison that comes to mind is the most uplifting parts of Super Mario Odyssey. Whether it’s the bouncy strings of Gasping Glade, the cool bass of Ropeburn Ridge, or Windmill Way’s humble ukulele that nearly brought me to tears of joy, finding a new level made me just as, if not more, excited to hear a level’s music than to actually play it. Not only do I want the Impossible Lair OST played at my funeral, but it’s the kind of work that I will listen to when I need a reminder that there is good in the world. It just makes me really happy, okay.  

The Challenge 

As enchanting as these games’ music and cutesy art styles may be, do not let that lull you into a false sense of security. These games have their own unique forms of challenge to test your platforming skills. Snake Pass front-loads its challenge in its controls. Picking up this bizarre physics object and needing to manoeuvre it around is going to feel unfamiliar for any player at first: there is nothing that plays quite like it. Stick with it, however, and the payoff is beyond satisfying. One of the games’ biggest hurdles is learning how to control Noodle’s head when climbing so that you don’t accidentally slip off and recognising when your grip on a pole is not stable. It requires patience, for sure. This is not to say that Snake Pass’ difficulty curve is bad: the opening world gives you time to get used to your new noodly body, balancing over harmless ground, before expecting you to dangle over spikes, lava, and endless sky.

Rather, one of the most common criticisms I see levelled at Snake Pass’ difficulty is a lack of checkpoints but I rarely took issue with them. There placement only becomes aggravating if you are attempting to grab every hidden collectible, which you lose if you die before reaching another checkpoint. Luckily, many of Snake Pass’ levels are made of three paths branching off from a central area, so you can quite easily go back to a checkpoint and cash in your medals a lot of the time - but that will cost you time, of course. It’s like gambling, or something. 

Once you have completed the main game and mastered the art of being a snake, new challenges arise in the form of extra modes. Speedrun modes tease you to go faster, going against the instincts you formed in your first playthrough to take things methodically. In a game where you are constantly weighing up whether to focus on clinging on to a structure for dear life or race across obstacles to the safety of solid ground, I can see this mode being an endless source of fun to push your skills to their snakey limit. Throw in an online leaderboard and I’m going to be slithering around these jungle gyms for days!

So I guess we better address that Impossible Lair, then. Let me get this straight out of the way: the Impossible Lair is bullshit difficult. Nothing in the game prepares you for such a difficulty spike; no other level even comes close to testing players as much as the Impossible Lair. Even if you hunt down every last bee and have the maximum hit points available, there is no cause to be complacent. This marathon will test you and you can expect to take around 10-15 attempts to beat it for the first time. It’s so easy to catch your toe on a saw blade, panic, then fall into a pit: that’s two hit points out of a maximum of 48. Die in the Impossible Lair and you have to start the whole gruelling 20-minute ordeal from the very beginning. Even if you know what’s coming up, that’s a long time to expect someone to play at peak platforming performance. The sad truth is that many will play, and enjoy, the game’s forty levels but never finish the damn thing because of this roadblock - and they will end up feeling short-changed for it. 

With that said, I really liked it. Working my way counterclockwise around the map, knowing there’s this mysterious gauntlet sitting in the middle of it all, waiting for my challenge, just really gets my gamer brain fired up. There’s also something really charming about a final level that has the audacity to call itself ‘Impossible Lair’ - taunting a hardcore gamer like me in this silly kids’ game - and then it actually kicks my ass, again and again and again. In the time it took me to learn all its tricks and optimise my run, I was enraptured by its challenge and felt committed to beating it, as opposed to frustrated - it also helps that big bad Capital B is making puns around every corner to lighten the mood. In terms of mechanics, there’s nothing new here, besides the Capital B boss fights. All the obstacles in the level are borrowed from other zones, so you didn’t play the rest of the game just to get more hit points, but to learn how to deal with these obstacles when they get thrown at you in the Impossible Lair. In general, the realisation that you are continuing to play a game because you want to discover what it has to offer, rather than because the game won’t let you finish it yet is very powerful. It’s precisely what made Zelda: Breath of the Wild so fresh and I think it works really well here, too. It could be better implemented to fit the game’s difficulty curve, but the Impossible Lair gave me flashbacks to the Megaman Wily Castles of yore and that is definitely a positive in my books.

The Caveats

There are a couple of elephants in this reptile-filled room, however. On the Switch at least, these games can perform poorly. Snake Pass can be like a slideshow at times, both in docked and undocked mode. In a game where not a whole lot is happening on screen at once, I can only assume that this is due to poor optimisation of Unreal Engine 4. I can’t see this detracting from gameplay too much, but it isn’t pleasant to swing to the camera around in search of one last collectible for the screen to dissolve into a kaleidoscope of dropped frames. Besides that, I feel that Snake Pass could really use a few more levels in new locales. As of now, the game has 15 in four different worlds. I do believe that this is a case of the uniqueness of what is there outweighing my disappointment at there not being more, but it would have been nice to have some more environments with new hazards.  

Fortunately, Impossible Lair’s frame-drops seem to be relegated to the start of a level and some busier sections. It makes up for this with some bonkers load times when booting up the game and loading a new level. No, my technical issues with Yooka Laylee mostly boil down to how unreliable some moves feel to perform. After 13 hours of rolling off ledges, I’m still not confident in predicting how much speed Yooka will pick up and the distance he will gain from a roll-jump, for how long he will stay suspended in the air, and when the ability to jump will be taken from me leaving my lizard to plummet to his death. The amount of lag Yooka suffers between picking something up with his tongue and spitting it out also seems to vary greatly and has cost me some hits on a few occasions.

In terms of spicing up its level design, I look at some of Impossible Lair’s mechanics and instantly see opportunities for expansion. Of all Yooka’s moves, his tongue is the most underutilised. Those bomb, fire, and ice berries on the overworld could be used for some insane elemental puzzles in the platforming levels. Maybe there could be enemies with shields that Yooka must snatch away before attacking them. Perhaps Yooka’s tongue could stick to ice and he could swing from it like a rope; I’m envisaging some mad Chameleon Twist-type shenanigans here but, alas, maybe a concept for a future instalment.

The Conclusssssssion

I’m not surprised that these games acquired the status of sleeper hits, especially considering the tough competition they faced in the years in which they were released. They are definitely rough diamonds but with enough in unique mechanics, great audio, and charm to merit giving them a try. For me personally, these games fill me with a warmth that is simply infectious. They serve as reminders as to why I love independent games so much, with their daring gameplay innovations and genuine passion for the medium. They are the kinds of experiences I can turn to whenever life is getting me down and I need a surefire pick-me-up. They wouldn’t be everyone’s first choice for a chillout game, for sure, but I think everyone needs some games like that, and I’ve finally found mine.