With games, it’s uncharacteristic to discuss hardware in its relation to software. You expect games to work and adapt to genre conventions, usually not giving a second thought to preferred means of input and interaction. Excluding those weird years when Microsoft’s Kinect and Sony’s Move invaded gaming’s mindshare, spending time detailing control mechanisms is usually a waste of space.
Media Molecule’s Tearaway made a case for a different conversation. Rather than demonstrate the Vita’s unique features, which had already been accomplished by Little Deviants, Tearaway embraced everything that made the Vita special. The front-facing camera was always active, positioning you (and literally your own face) as a constant character in its world. Tapping the rear touchpad allowed your fingers to virtually burst through specially marked areas, and solved a host of platforming challenges. Even standard options, like the accelerometer and the touchscreen, were complimented with tilting and unique drawing mechanics, respectively. All of those ideas were wrapped around a euphoric narrative that supported curious choices in level design, leaving Tearaway, at least in its moment, as meaningful experience.
With Tearaway Unfolded, which is more of an amplified remix than true successor, creating novelty is a bit trickier. While the DualShock 4 certainly has its own quirks—the touchpad, in particular, has been little more than a glorified select button—it’s still a relatively standard controller. Unfolded’s primary solution is to outsource its personalization to either the PlayStation 4 Camera (which practically no one has) or through a connected device like a phone, Vita, or tablet. Doing this allows you to essentially import your own face or other patterns via your own photography, which leads to more identifiable roll for the player in Tearaway Unfolded. While it’s perfectly playable without it, the game definitely loses something without your actual face as a central character.
Tearaway Unfolded doesn’t break down the fourth wall; it purposely includes the player in an active role. You’re “the You,” an actual presence in the game and the enigmatic force behind certain actions. Primarily, however, you’re controlling a an anthropomorphic letter, a “messenger,” named Iota (should you identify as male) or Atoi (should you identify as female) through typical platform conventions. You hop from platform to platform, push through frequent bursts of nefarious Scraps, and also solve minor environmental puzzles, endure Metroid-lite ball rolling sequences, and a host of other surprises.
Iota or Atoi, of course, couldn’t do it without you. A jump mechanic is in play, but it’s supported by specially marked areas that respond to the DualShock 4’s touchpad, essentially creating a trampoline. Furthermore, swiping in different directions on the touchpad creates gusts of wind in the intended direction, which drives Scraps into walls and off ledges, and unfurls rolled up paper for easier navigation. In these sequences, the touchpad serves as a decent replacement for the Vita’s touchscreen, and Tearaway Unfolded performs its duties so well you’d be hard pressed to say one was better than the other.
The DualShock 4’s rear light, which accepts employment as pure battery drain in most games, also finds a place in Tearaway Unfolded. Holding in R2 activates the light in the game, mirroring its oblong triangle shape. Early on it’s your only means of interaction as you light the way across gloomy landscapes. Later it’s better used as a way to mesmerize hapless Scraps and drive them against walls into oblivion. I was shocked by how well all of this worked! I suppose it makes exclusive use of the accelerometer inside the controller, but it felt like a camera-assisted motion control, only without any additional hardware. Used sparingly, it’s a nice idea.
The more I played, the more I began to appreciate how much thought went into developing Tearaway Unfolded’s relationship between the player and the DualShock 4. In your role as the (capital Y) You, You also have the option of having Iota or Atoi toss an object into the controller and allow You, via motion control, to hurl it back into the screen. Sometimes this is used as another way to level Scraps and other times it’s used to punch holes through obstinate pieces of paper, but it always creates another connection to Tearaway Unfolded’s world.
Unfortunately not all of Tearaway Unfolded’s ideas operate with the same level of technical finesse. Creating and crafting your own paper designs is a major part of the game. Sometimes you’re designing snowflakes that instantly appear as the in-game snowflakes, or you’re making an official science project badge, or creating a tattoo to give someone, or updating someone’s face with any measure of predefined Mr. Potato Head features or other insane objects. You’re never judged on your technical ability, everything qualifies regardless of time invested or applied skill, but it’s absolutely intrinsic to Tearaway Unfolded’s mission. What You make is in the game, and it’s one of the reasons why it all feels so special. It’s all personal because it’s your creation.
This process of personalization worked fairly well in the original Tearaway with the Vita’s touchscreen. Perceived contact is less tangible on the DualShock 4’s touchpad. The sensitivity is there, there’s a surprising range of motion on the tiny surface, by there’s too large of a disconnect between what I was touching and what I was seeing on screen. Not all rectangular canvases are created equal, and using my giant finger to draw patterns always lead to miserable shapes that only approximated what I had intended to draw. I also had to train myself to never pick up my finger, as it was impossible to put it back down in the same position.
The sloppy nature of drawing on the touchpad kind of soils Tearaway Unfolded’s creative fabric. Confetti, littered throughout the world with a few other collectable items, is the game’s primary currency. It’s used to purchase new pre-cut shapes for your creations, or put toward a host of different lenses and filters for the in-game camera. These items often work in tandem with your own creations and the touchpad, and not seeing a few of those ideas properly blossom damages Tearaway Unfolded’s joyful spirit. It’s not a game breaker, if so inclined you can play through Tearaway Unfolded without caring about any of this, but its charm is a step below the Vita version.
How 2013’s Tearaway has shifted and changed into 2015’s Unfolded is an interesting process. Certain locations have had new areas bolted on to different sides. Maypole Fields has an entirely new area to explore in its north end, and its barn area has been completely revamped. Similarly, Sogport, formerly a somewhat empty harbor and a lighthouse, has been significantly expanded, offering a row of optional mini-quests alongside its better realized sleepy sea town.
The most immediately addition to Tearaway lies with the inclusion of a flight mechanic. At two points throughout the storyline, you’re granted access to sheets of paper that can transform into a paper plane. Using your wind, you can drive the plane with one hand and accelerate by swiping the other, a process that sounds arduous but works fine in practice. This opens up Tearaway Unfolded’s world significantly, offering a bunch of arctic islands to explore in Sogport and an arid expanse of loops and brief Starfoxian action in the Desert.
Tearaway Unfolded also brought over some of Tearaway’s more pedestrian challenges. The Traveler level, in which you tilted the Vita to guide along another messenger in ball-form along a series of basic tilt challenges, makes an unwelcomed comeback. Reproduced with a DualShock 4 in mind, it’s just as boring and gimmicky as it was on the Vita. We’ve had these marble tilting games on mobile phones for almost a decade, and it feels out of step with the wild bouts of innovation playing off each other in the rest of the game. That, along with the animal riding sequences that lift ideas straight from Crash Bandicoot, are easily the most disappointing aspects of Tearaway Unfolded.
Fluctuating levels of narrative momentum also feel uncomfortable in Tearaway Unfolded. Better stated, objectives feel like they’re always on the horizon. Early on it’s a key that keeps getting magically taken away, and later its an escalating series of fake-out endings as the game keeps inventing different reasons to go to more places. On some level I get it, content is king and finding a reason to push the player through it all is probably pretty tough, but I felt like I was being slightly deceived with whatever I was supposed to be doing.
Tearaway Unfolded also tends to struggle with traditional engagement. The novelty of its customization systems and unique adaptations of control methods work, for a time, but as a pure application the game kind of drags. Tearing through Scraps always comes with a half dozen combat options, but they all eventually fall to routine. Likewise, the platforming only really gets demanding in the last third of the game, where multiple techniques stop being deployed on their own and combine for a greater challenge.
I’ve also struggled with Tearaway Unfolded’s approach to penalizing the player. Should you perish in a botched jump or suffer a run-in with a nasty Scrap, you’ll instantly reappear very close by. This didn’t bother me two years ago. For whatever reason, be it repetition or an active familiarity with its structure, I craved more of a game from Tearaway Unfolded. It’s probably geared toward a younger audience, where instant frustration is modern poison, which is fair, however, I wanted something from Tearaway Unfolded that it just didn’t seem ready to deliver. The only reprieve came in optional challenges to transport a special blue squirrel across significant distances without dying. Other than that, I didn’t find the idea of tracking down every last piece of confetti, item box, or photo-op to be worth any significant investment of time.
Most of the skepticism I’ve prepared wilts under Tearaway Unfolded’s weapons-grade aura of jubilation. Tidal waves of color (other than in section that’s deliberately blanched) combat any semblance of mechanical tedium, and constant themes of positivity resist any nascent cynicism. The game is kind of (just kind of!) a drag, but I’m not entirely sure it cares. I’m not sure I care. I don’t think that’s the point. From the exuberant cast of whimsical characters to the heart-melting sentiment of its ending, Tearaway Unfolded rips through any perceived doubt.
Of course, this is something the original Tearaway did too. If you’ve already played through Tearaway on the Vita, asking whether or not you should take another round is a fair question. I gave Tearaway a high score when I reviewed it, and it even made my annual top ten list at the close of 2013. I loved that game. I love Tearaway Unfolded a little less. Most of this is the obvious repetition of playing 30% of the same game over again, but I still enjoyed the experience. Every single area feels like it’s been significantly reworked, expanded, or invented from scratch. If you like Tearaway, $40 isn’t a bad price to pay for another take on a great idea.
The greater platforming community should also give Tearaway Unfolded a fair shake. Loads of optional collectibles will call to the abandoned masses whom fueled Yooka-Laylee into existence, and the novelty of the base game should be enough for those with a casual interest. Outside of some pacing problems and the occasional drab sequences, Tearaway Unfolded preservers the spirit of classic platformers, albeit without expected spikes and strains of a menacing challenge.
It’s just too tough not to like Tearaway Unfolded. I have real problems with the game, pacing and the occasional dud of an idea among them, but all of it goes away when I think of the honest heart beating through the game’s professed intentions. Tearaway Unfolded isn’t emulating or riding on the coattails of any of its peers. It’s trying to do something new, and not for the sake of being different, but from a place of genuine inspiration. With modern gaming wrapped up in incoherent marketing schemes, broken launches, and garish pre-order bonuses, it’s refreshing to see a game ignore damaging trends and still find some measure of candid success. Complaints aside, I’m glad I don’t have to ask for anything else.
