(Originally published to Glitchwave on 9/7/2024)
[Image from glitchwave.com]
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk
Developer: Team Reptile
Publisher: Team Reptile
Genre(s): 3D Platformer, Sports
Platforms: PC, PS4, Xbox One, Switch, PS5, XSX
Release Date: August 18, 2023
I suppose what piqued my interest in Jet Set Radio was its attitude, aesthetic, and unadulterated panache. To harp on the first descriptive word mentioned, BRC revels in Jet Set’s ethos of “sticking it to the man.” Society at large is a bureaucratic beast that squashes all forms of creativity and individualistic expression into a depressing gray paste of conformity. The premise sounds bleakly dystopian, but can we not honestly concede that our Western, first-world government positions its authoritative boots on the necks of our artistic potential? Fortunately, BRC’s world runs rampant with hipster freedom fighters who brazenly reject society’s rules and regulations. They spit in the face of the greater establishment with their strides of externalizing the deepest recesses of the soul with vehicular sports equipment, nimble hip-hop dancing, and, most importantly, graffiti art graphics that they tag with spray paint all across their urban environment. Obviously, BRC’s police force sees all of this liberal gallivanting as impudent acts of transgression, so they work around the clock apprehending these “writers,” the self-imposed term that these vandals call themselves, and caging them in cell blocks so dull and constrictive that it’ll sap all of their vigor. How naive they are to assume that their equally unruly friends wouldn’t have the gumption to break them out of their confinements, which is exactly what occurs in the game’s introduction sequence. BRC begins with the jailbreak of Faux and Tryce. The former character has a glowing reputation as one of the most prolific “writers” on the scene, and the latter character wishes to recruit him as a member of his gang once they elude captivity. Besides the direct opposition of a jetpack-powered police captain, they both manage to escape the grounds of the prison relatively unscathed. That is until a masked man dressed in stately garb decapitates Faux with a vinyl record. This event would naturally signal an abrupt end for the person whom we likely perceived as the game’s protagonist, but he miraculously reawakens with a new cybernetic cranium that is as red as a Japanese sunrise. With the help of Tryce and his bubbly female ally Bel, the freshly assembled Bombrush crew is ready to conquer all of the rival gang factions around New Amsterdam and find the whereabouts of Faux’s misplaced, organic noggin in the process. Much of BRC’s plot requires a suspension of disbelief to swallow, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t pump up my mood for youthful defiance.
The perfect word to describe BRC’s presentation is “funkadelic.” Yes, I realize that this is not a word recognized by any pressing of Webster’s English Dictionary and that is it the name of a funk rock band from the 1970s. Still, if we analyze the two descriptive words as a portmanteau, it’s the only fitting term for the fusion of styles that BRC displays. Before the offshoot of disco congested the dance club scene of the 1970s with its glittery corniness, the earlier days of the decade saw funk music blasting over people’s stereos as the dominant sound to truly release one’s inhibitions. The appeal of funk music is that its grooves are so infectious that they’ll hypnotize your body no matter the surrounding scene. Not only that, but the downright dirty hooks can tap into a primal urge that can verge into the sexual. BRC’s content doesn’t quite tap into that realm, but the unrepressed feeling of funk music drenches BRC’s atmosphere. That devil-may-care elatedness is exuded in the characters' interactions and general demeanor, also influencing the type of artwork they splatter on the brick exteriors of buildings. The psychedelic portion of BRC’s presentational flair relates to the fact that the game’s visuals are highly exaggerated thanks to the vibrant cel-shaded graphics. Every color on a character’s outfit to the glowing contrast of the robin egg blue sky in the foreground is a vivacious splendor for everyone’s senses–so much so that the player will blink profusely as if their sensory perception is being manipulated. Hallucinogenic drugs are perceived as a gateway to the apex of human enlightenment, creativity, and unbounded intellectual capacity to escape the mundanity of reality, so perhaps BRC’s radical visual fidelity taps into this tenet of psychedelia. Take Timothy Leary’s word for it. Add a spoonful of hip-hop culture’s swagger, DIY ethics, and underdog leanings and BRC encapsulates all audible substances that influence people to tear the roof off the sucker. The roof of order and discipline, that is.
The term “funkadelic” is also applicable to BRC because the game’s city map looks as if bass player Bootsy Collins was employed as New Amsterdam’s city planning coordinator. It’s hard to believe that the status quo the city’s police are hellbent on preserving is straight edge and orderly, for it seems as if New Amsterdam inherently facilitates the effervescent inclinations of its supposed “reprobates.” The billboards display lively works of art even before the BRC crew plants their various insignias onto it, and there are solid sculptures surrounding the New Amsterdam streets as well as hanging from the ceiling of Millenium Square’s megamall. Taking the time to stop and smell the roses around New Amsterdam will reveal retail stores that cater to the wares of coffee, records, and stylishly youthful clothing. New Amsterdam is one nation under the spell of a groove, so it's no wonder a large percentage of its denizens dedicate their livelihood to freelance street art. It’s a city so hip that it makes Portland resemble the en masse uniformity of Pyongyang. Not only is each area of New Amsterdam distinctive due to its color schemes, but the construction never repeats itself. Versum Hill is elevated to support the railcar track that loops around the district, Millenium Mall is a spacious monolith of commerce entirely indoors, and Pyramid Island is a vertical barge located a mile offshore of the nameless ocean. Mataan, the final area, postures its climactic scope with a setting that soars over the entire city and is exclusively the only area that takes place after dusk. Even the Bombrush Crew’s compact hideout is a place filled to the brim with a particular aura and design. Periodically between progression milestones, The Protagonist will experience an aneurysm that knocks him unconscious to a dream world level where the physical elements of New Amsterdam are floating in a psychedelic antimatter detached from the physics of reality. These linear series of platforms are incredibly reminiscent of the “secret” levels from Super Mario Sunshine, and they are pleasant to both play and gawk at in the infrequent instances in which they appear. New Amsterdam’s unmistakable quirkiness extends beyond its cultural identity to the architectural foundation of its various places of interest, and the world map on the whole here is wonderfully diverse.
The unifying cohesion between all of New Amsterdam’s districts is that they must consist of grind rails aplenty. Jet Set Radio’s hybrid of a 3D platformer and the ubiquity of extreme sports during the time is equally as idiosyncratic as its dazzling art style. Naturally, BRC follows its inspiration in the mechanical sense as resolutely as its pizzazz. “Red,” the new persona of the beheaded protagonist, fancies himself as a skateboarder. It’s his tool of unchained mobility to use to freely transform the entirety of New Amsterdam into his personal playground, skidding on guard rails and across the smooth surfaces of billboard signs with the utmost grace and adroitness. Bel specializes in rollerskates while Tryce burns some serious rubber on his BMX bike, so the Bombrush Mod Squad covers all bases of potentially injurious transportation sport equipment whose usage is frowned upon by authorities. While all three methods to make sparks fly from the friction of metal meeting movement differ in shape and size, their utility is identical. It’s somewhat disappointing that the three simply meld together, but the objective of BRC isn’t to learn and master the different selections of equipment. The accelerated motion that comes with all three-wheeled contraptions serves as a twist to the 3D platforming aspect. Ramps, grind rails, and billboard signs are essentially realistic platforms used to gain higher elevations throughout the city. The challenge comes with finding where a connecting chain of pathways begins while trying to retain one's balance, similar to any other 3D platformer. Accelerating the motion of movement with a skateboard or bike is also a lovely accommodation when it comes to exploration in BRC. Reaching higher ground or poking through corridors in BRC is all performed with the same objective: to get to or discover the spots that are ripe for graffiti markings or to retread over the artwork of a rival gang to topple their influence over a district and earn reputation points. Simply press the button for the limitless spray paint while in front of a graffiti piece or a space with a hazy yellow pattern and a multitude of cardinal directions will pop up. The specific zigzagging trajectory on this screen coincides with the result of the graffiti piece, and the player will unlock more routes that come with new artwork by completing challenges or finding them on the field. Whether or not it’s the gratification of being rewarded with searching or meeting a destination that was once from a distance at eye level, filling in the blank spaces or painting over another gang’s symbol is a satisfying stamp of success.
Be aware that marking one’s territory with paint is bound to alert the fuzz. BRC’s trouble meter functions similarly to the one from Grand Theft Auto. Each time the player sprays a wall with their illicit vision, the retaliation of the police force will get progressively more tenacious. A few officers will bumrush the player upon gaining one star, and then a stationary unit will pop out of the ground and unleash an onslaught of chains in what is honestly an admirable, yet flawed, advancement in police detainment technology. Eventually, upon ignoring the legal blowback with more graffiti to follow, the police force will start carrying riot gear and then attempt to flush out the player with an assemblage of attack helicopters. They’ve really focused their priorities on combating serious crime, haven’t they? Funnily enough, graffiti is the only offense they seem to care about. Spin kicking them apparently isn’t a form of assault that compounds the player’s rap sheet to a life sentence, and they’ll amusingly scurry away upon being hit one too many times as if they “got served” and have to stand down. This allows the player to defend themselves with little repercussions, but refusing to submit to incarceration exposes a glaring issue with BRC’s mechanics. BRC’s combat feels very…gelatinous. Executing the kicking maneuvers doesn’t have that “oomph factor” that most action games with combat tend to, and delivering them to adversaries feels more like punching a balloon filled with pudding than an organic life form. Even though the cops will increase the efficiency of their strike force with loaded guns at some point, firing accurately at the player will never be enough to subdue them because health regenerates so quickly. Still, the player will be scrambling for an outhouse to change their clothing and elude the authorities in this game’s depiction of GTA’s “Pay and Spray” because they are rather irksome all the same. Calling attention to the police with graffiti doesn’t provoke a harmful threat–it’s equivalent to leaving a window open and having common house flies buzz around your personal space. Given that physical combat is thankfully not the focal game mechanic in BRC, the developers should’ve scrapped it entirely or forced the player to escape the police opposition without humoring the chance of literally fighting back.
The other enemies in BRC are the rival gangs that occupy one significant district around New Amsterdam. The Bombrush Crew’s mission to go “all city” entails that they will seize the territory from each respective gang until the entire map is covered entirely in whichever color signifies their dominance. The process of annexing an area is rinsed and repeated for every new area uncovered. Getting the rival gang’s attention requires painting over a certain amount of their graffiti spots, which will then lead to individual members challenging the BRC folk to assorted duels involving their ride of choice. All of the posturing will culminate in a legitimate ranked match coordinated and refereed by the “oldheads,” elder statesmen of the “writer” ranks who resemble pruned versions of the Bombrush Crew. The ultimate challenge that decides who will rule the roost is based on which crew can accumulate the most points by executing the most flashy combo stunts in succession. The surefire method of winning every final bout is to utilize the sharp corners of every grind rail to increase the combo multiplier and to hold down the button that activates the angled manual move to prevent the streak from stagnating. If you’ve sufficiently scoured the area beforehand, taking another gang’s land from them in this ritual will be a cinch. However, the recycled process does tend to dilute the impact of victory upon subsequent gang challenges. The fact that each gang is essentially the same arrogant, braggadocious bunch despite their difference in uniforms doesn’t spice up the stakes in the slightest. What titillates me the most regarding this overarching goal is how much it borrows from The Warriors, a cult film involving street gangs in affiliated colors with the same sense of a cool, urban aura. DJ Cyber even reappears often and says the definitive quote “Can you dig it!?” as an overt reference.
While the rival gangs are nothing to sneeze at, the conflict involving the game’s true main antagonist becomes progressively more interesting as the story unfolds. One can probably assume that DJ Cyber is the primary nefarious subject in BRC due to his decapitation count stacking up higher than the French Revolution. However, he’s simply a decorated agent acting on the rules of a system that exists outside of the ethical parameters of civilized society. Separating Faux’s head from his body with the edge of his vinyl blade was simply an act of prompt justice, but what crime is he being convicted of? In a twist, Faux is guilty of the three disses: disloyalty, disrespect, and dishonesty. Faux and DJ Cyber used to run with this cat named Felix (not the cartoon one) who took it upon himself to achieve “all-city” ascendancy on his own because he possessed “writing” skills that surpassed anyone else in New Amsterdam. In an act of jealousy, Faux kills Felix by knocking him off of a ladder into the rapid blades of a ceiling fan. Faux was taken into police custody not for the usual “writer” fare, but for the heinous act of murdering his friend and partner in crime. When DJ Cyber thought the rat bastard was cooked when he cut his head clean off, we learn that the police are preserving Faux’s head and using some kind of communicative synapse system so Faux can sing like a canary and give them the information they need to shut down the “writer’s” subculture indefinitely. That petty motherfucker. Fortunately, it’s revealed when Red’s helmet gets cracked that the face behind the mask is none other than Felix, whose head was evidently found in the nick of time and replugged onto a host body, Faux’s before its mental faculties collapsed. This reveal is fortuitous, for Felix is the only person who can oppose the monstrous mech that Faux’s head takes to the cliffs of Mataan to destroy his old allies. While the plot still needs patience to fully accept it as reality, the subversion regarding the main villain is executed quite well. The passionate conversation between Felix and Faux before one has to end the other isn’t even as cheesy as the climactic scope would suggest.
Whether or not it's an HD retread of an IP from long ago, the modern gaming landscape needs more titles like Bomb Rush Cyberfunk. Its indomitable, maverick spirit is infectious and speaks to my inner beatnik, hippy, and all other rabble-rousers that strike against society's stifling conventions. Still, I can’t help but feel like Bomb Rush Cyberfunk is hollow overall. Its central gameplay of riding around skateboarding and such never tires, and I even found myself absentmindedly doing it without a clear objective because I was enjoying it so much. However, all of the concrete elements that progress the story are sadly repetitive and simplistic. I wonder how much of BRC’s boneless foundation is due to the meager indie developer budget, which is why I’m curious to see if Jet Set’s core is a solid one in comparison. It’s a chocolate easter bunny without an inside, but it consists of the most delicious chocolate I’ve ever eaten. Maybe I’m just a fucking square (sue me, I’m pushing 30).
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