Super Motherload caught me by surprise. This isn’t necessarily a testament to the game’s quality (or potentially lack thereof), but rather it wasn’t on my radar when a wild review code appeared in my inbox. I didn’t Google it, and, being my first non-retail PlayStation 4 game, didn’t think to check the online manual. I just started playing it, at which point an interesting thread of discovery began to unwind. For a game and genre that seems focused on the act of discovery itself, this means of access seemed consistent with its theme. If you’d rather read a review that predictably reproduces the manual, I’m sure it’s out there, but if you’d prefer an introspective account of what it’s like to plunge face first in to Super Motherload, please continue reading.
It appeared to be a 2D tile-based digging game. I selected a distinctly Russian woman, Ivana Korlov, as my avatar and proceeded to be deployed upon the Martian surface. A friendly robot helper pointed out a few basics, namely that I had a limited amount of fuel and cargo space, and that swift collisions would probably result in my little exploration vehicle taking damage. While on the surface I could also refuel and repair my vehicle as well as drop off cargo and make upgrades at the shop. From there, I was sent along my way to explore subterranean Mars at will.
Naturally, I drilled straight down. Immediately I noticed the landscape was packed full of mineral deposits. Bronzium, silverum, ironum, and platinum were identified by their color and appeared to be in no short supply. I acquired all I could carry, returned to the surface via my vehicle’s nifty helicopter ascension device, and cashed all my loot in for sweet, sweet rewards. It was something like $1000, which in the grand scope of Super Motherload’s economy is practically nothing, but it was good enough to buy a few upgrades from the store. Fuel supply seemed pretty important (and had multiple tiers, the highest of which was around over a million) and I increased my drilling speed which, at the time, seemed pretty important. Then I went back down.
I noticed that I got an instant cash bonus for getting three silverum’s in a row. Better, said cash bonus increased for every consecutive silverum I got. Best of all, this train of logic applies to every mineral in the game, all tiered differently from the paltry bronzium to (the nearly impossible to find) unobtainium. My new strategy became canvassing everything below and collecting specific minerals consecutively. Eventually, despite having no idea what it did, I bought a smelter upgrade at the shop. It turned out a smelter revealed combos for specific elements, the acquisition of which seemed to payout significantly higher than mineral chains. Bronzium and goldium, for example, produced katana gold, which could be sold at a higher price back at the surface. Now my new order of operations geared toward quests for specific combos.
Eventually I started running out of minerals to mine. I also started receiving intermittent messages from a collection of people in subterranean bases, all of whom appeared to have spent way too much time beneath the surface. The writing guiding their voices wasn’t all that great, it was appropriately B-movie but still kind of bad. In any case it was enough to beg the question; what’s down there? Suddenly all I wanted to do was drill down as far as Super Motherload would let me go.
I dug down deeper. I found another base stacked inside the Martian underground. Now I didn’t have to go all the way back up through my custom-made maze to reach the surface and drop off loot. I went even deeper and found another base. I started getting sub-quests from my robot pal; collecting broken parts or other out-of-the-way items would lead to a potential upgrade, though despite always collecting the required parts I was never able to find the place(?) it revealed as a reward.
Eventually I hit a wall. Certain blocks were either impervious to my drill or dealt considerable damage to my ship. The bombs that I had been ignoring were suddenly practical and came in several varieties; line bombs, eight-way explosive C4, relatively tame TNT, and some rare electron bombs. I could buy them at the store, or upgrade my smelter to figure out how to make said bombs. An hour later, I was armed with a ton of bombs. I blew my way to the bottom (center?) of Mars and found my prize.
Super Motherload’s conclusion makes the unfortunate decision of producing gameplay thematically and interactively unlike everything it accomplished in the preceding hours. It shifts from an exploratory mining/loot game into a half-baked boss fight that requires the development of an new skill set to surmount. This wouldn’t have been much of a problem if dying didn’t reset me all the way back to the last base, a five minute journey once I completely memorized it, but repeating that ten or so times until I finally rolled credits was more trouble than it was worth. It was certainly challenging, but it wasn’t the challenge I wanted or had previously been getting out of playing Super Motherload. The game had to end somewhere, ideally with some sort of spectacle, but the path chosen left my sentiment soured.
In spite of itself, I had to admire the charm Super Motherload spread over the four hours before I reached the bottom. The path there, the wide swath of subterranean landscape I had basically memorized, was all randomly generated. Every future game would unload a completely new arrangement of dirt and minerals. With its clever organization of particularly valuable minerals, gems, and other goodies, there didn’t seem to be anything random about it, even though I knew it was. Furthermore, there’s even a hardcore mode packed in should you wish to interpret Super Motherload‘s concept of death as permanent. Upgrades acquired for each character remain persistent, and there are even a few to unlock, creating more of an incentive to give it another go.
A PlayStation 4 debut would seem to imply visuals consistent with the next generation of hardware, though don’t expect Super Motherload to oblige that expectation. This isn’t a knock against it, the game looks perfectly fine and, visually, it executes on everything it needs to do – but it lacks the visual punch of peers like Resogun and Trine 2. The music, on the other hand, may be Super Motherload’s secret-best asset. It’s richly layered, methodically detailed, and oddly perfect for exploring underground on Mars. I have no idea every track would repeat twice and then cut out forever, which totally sucks, though that seems like a bug that will hopefully be squashed in a patch.
It’s worth mentioning that Super Motherload is also a cooperative game. It’s couch co-op only, meaning you’ll need three buddies and three new DualShock 4’s ready to compliment your packed-in controller. I didn’t have the extra $180 to spend on controllers this early in the console cycle, so I neglected to enjoy Super Motherload as a cooperative experience, but the trailer certainly made it look fun (and likely less tedious near its nefarious depths).
Super Motherload communicates a desire for players to learn its regimen while simultaneously uncovering its content. It’s a neat balance, one that rewards acquired skill with valuable efficiency, at least until its disparate final act trades musing discovery for twitch reaction. “What’s at the bottom” was a force that drove me to Super Motherload’s completion. Learning the answer diminished a desire to return.
