(Originally published to Glitchwave on 8/6/2025)
[Image from glitchwave.com]
Kirby and the Forgotten Land
Developer: HAL Laboratory
Publisher: Nintendo
Genre(s): 3D Platformer
Platforms: Switch
Release Date: March 25, 2022
For some reason, I expected Kirby and the Forgotten Land to be the pink puffball’s answer to Super Mario Odyssey. This assumption could’ve been because they are both Switch releases from two platforming series with legacy statuses in the echelons of Nintendo, or because Mario’s most recent (still, as of writing this) 3D escapade brought the non-linear collectathon format that Super Mario 64 pioneered to its pinnacle point and expected every other game in the genre to follow suit. While The Forgotten Land barely resembles Mario’s romantic voyage across the continents in his quaint, steam-powered flying vessel, a similarity that Forgotten Land shares to a radically dissimilar game from a whole other realm of the medium is so striking that I’ve become accustomed to nicknaming this game “Kirby: Automata” without any irony involved. I cannot definitively confirm whether or not the popular science fiction hack-and-slash sequel from PlatinumGames was a conceptual inspiration on this Kirby outing, nor can I fully comprehend such a wide sphere of influence on the whole. Still, when I glance at the aesthetic that encompasses the game’s general setting, the comparisons are clear as a sunny day in Honolulu.
The “forgotten land” that the lofty title is alluding to certainly isn’t Kirby’s candy-coated homeworld of Planet Popstar. An interdimensional vortex pulls Kirby into its seismic grasp, and don’t tell me that the world seen on the other side doesn’t evoke memories of Nier: Automata’s fractured urban landscape. Sure, the herbage enveloping the "forgotten land” is far more invitingly lush than the stranded Earth seen in Nier: Automata, but I know for a fact that tall buildings don’t grow vines along its sides for decoration. The “Natural Plains” area that introduces this strange new land to Kirby extends the defeated tone of urban decay to a crumbling highway called “Rock Rollin’ Road” to an abandoned shopping mall, which has become the epitome of a societal graveyard in recent years. Subsequent worlds may have a distinctive elemental theme as par for the platformer course, but they all integrate the same corroded urban setpieces into the foreground. The billowing snow of “Winter Horns” isn’t thick enough to cover the emptiness of the vaguely London-esque urban architecture, “Wondaria Remains” is an abandoned amusement park if that wasn’t indicated by its title, and the intended joy of a beach world is dampened by the offshore industrial plants that comprise the foregrounds of “Everbay Coast.” The hellfire of “Redgar Forbidden Lands” is especially depressing because the destroyed city in the midst of it harkens back to Crisis City from Sonic 06, yet doesn’t instill the suffering implications of that forsaken level like the Christian underworld connotes. Even the more inviting setting of the arid “Originull Wasteland” retains the overarching theme with its ancient ruins and dingy mine shafts. Yes, the realistic and dismal levels in Forgotten Land do indeed conflict with Kirby’s cherubic character and the whimsical innocence of his normal stomping (or floating, I should say) grounds. Still, the cohesiveness of these settings leads me to believe that this stark contrast was the initiative of the developers. As a result, Kirby truly is a stranger in a strange land, and we’re equally as curious as he assumedly is.
A source of familiarity in this uncharted wasteland sparks up regarding the game’s consistent objective. Kirby may not have ever adopted the Super Mario 64 definition of a collectathon like several other 3D platformers, but acquiring a selection of special items has always been a component of the series’ gameplay. In this case, it’s the hundreds of Waddle Dees that have been captured by a gang of furry creatures called “The Beast Pack,” who cannot be seen as intimidatingly hostile when they are this adorably floofy. Wait a minute: I seem to recall Kirby slaughtering any Waddle Dee that came across his path in several different iterations of his days on Pop Star, and now he’s their Oskar Schindler? Does traveling to another world via a portal give the perpetrator the same legal sanction as hopping the border to Mexico? Anyway, regardless of Kirby’s felonious past with the Popstar commoners, he’s the only one fit to be their savior in this dire predicament. Rescuing the Waddle Dees from their cages is essentially the same process as procuring the crystal shards in Kirby 64, or the cubes from Planet Robobot. There are three to five of them located off the beaten path of the trek to the finish line, which all involve a modicum of exploration and attentiveness to one's surroundings. Still, if the player proves to be less than vigilant, simply reaching the end of a level will reward them with a trio of the chubby-cheeked guys for their troubles. Because the collection process mirrors two instances of it in a couple of traditionally 2D Kirby titles, we can assume that Kirby’s newfound parameters still stick to the straightaway course from A to B. While this may seem like a waste of potential, the extent of exploration the game fosters greatly distracts from the technically confined linearity at play. Not only can Waddle Dees be achieved via entertaining the branching paths, but the game features many other collectathon conditions all around. Waddles Dees can be rewarded when Kirby dismantles crudely-drawn wanted posters of himself, eating a chain of edibles from a shared food group, busting up snowmen, etc. Because anything in a level could conceivably be attached to the main collectible, it motivates the player to scrounge about the level’s entirety more meticulously than ever before, which in turn will ideally result in a richer platforming experience.
One may ask what the point of the explorative process would be if the game feels charitable enough to give away a few Waddle Dees, almost like a participation trophy. The immediate answer is that a substantial amount of them is needed to demolish the barrier surrounding a level’s final boss. Alternatively, the mass of Waddle Dees takes refuge in the game’s hub, which is located at the southern tip of the world map. This podunk town has already been colonized by Waddle Dees upon Kirby’s initial arrival, a productive turn-around for a negative situation if anything. Still, one factor of persuading the player to go the distance to free them from captivity is that their community will grow exponentially as they erect various establishments with every numerical milestone. The Waddle Dees will set up shops, a movie theater, cafes/restaurants, a park, etc., in their impromptu home away from home. The latter two notable places mentioned also feature minigames where Kirby serves up grub and fishes, respectively, classically deviating from the platforming gameplay just as the earlier series entries were known to do. The Waddle Dees have even constructed a little cottage for Kirby here so the little guy can rest his weary bones (does Kirby even have bones?). I appreciate their gratitude, but considering the work that Kirby’s doing to save their species, I don’t think tacking on new features to Kirby’s domicile with every increment is an impudent ask from them. Perhaps a jacuzzi or a man cave with a pool table and flat-screen HDTV? Still, I’m satisfied with how Waddle Dee Town expands outside of Kirby’s crib, and seeing the tangibility of my efforts incentivizes me to continue a more thorough tread through the levels.
Mainly, I habitually revisit the Waddle Dee hub because it houses a mechanic/tailor who specializes in Kirby’s hats, which obviously correspond with his special abilities. After playing a smorgasbord of Kirby’s outings at this point, I’ve learned that the amount of elemental abilities Kirby copies from consuming various enemies should be kept to a fair minimum for the sake of brevity, lest a few duds are left on the table like in Kirby’s Dream Land 3. Fortunately, the range of offensive augmentations presented here is a modest twelve, with the digging “drill” and projectile “ranger” making their debuts. While the selection here is all killer with no filler to be found, Forgotten Land also recognizes that the copy abilities make a more significant impact when they are innovated on, with the combining of two in Kirby 64 and absorbing them into the schematics of the mech in Planet Robobot as prime examples. Forgotten Land’s contribution to tweaking Kirby’s greatest idiosyncrasy is evolving the offensive traits of the copy abilities like Pokemon. Once Kirby finds the scroll with the design scheme of the upgrade (another reason to search each level like a cunning detective, I might add) and can fund this addition with enough of the game’s currencies, the enhanced ability that the Waddle Dee gets to work on will replace its inferior version from that point onward. The firepower of the “ranger” ability increases from a pop gun to a deadly laser blaster, “needle’s” upgrade references the clutter of miscellaneous sharp objects from Kirby 64, “bomb” will gain heat-seaking homing properties to explode directly in every enemy’s face, and defeating Meta Knight in an optional colosseum battle will have him forfeit his mysterious mask and trusty Galaxia as the final addition to the sword ability. It’s the only feasible way to incorporate Kirby’s rival in this game while he’s travelling abroad. Improving the classic gag ability of “sleep” by giving Kirby a full-sized mobile bed to rest in seems like a joke in and of itself, but giving Kirby a power nap comes with the added perks of boosted attack, speed, or defense for a short period. I may question what warrants these abilities to be enhanced when the game is consistently easy as a pedantic nitpick, but the curiosity that arises with how each ability will be modified and the spectacle of their amplifications always drew me back to spending my hard-earned money at the hub.
Speaking of well-earned finances, Forgotten Land features a secondary currency to the star coins in the “rare stones.” These coarse, radiant star formations can only be obtained by completing the “treasure roads,” that pop up on the map after finishing the mainline levels. Each of these obstacle courses often involves the singular use of a particular copy ability, so substantial familiarity with a specific one’s properties is key to surviving to the end. In addition, every single challenge is timed, so Kirby cannot briskly float to the goal as he would for levels outside the course. Come to think of it, the segmented platforming mixed with the strain of the time limit was a rare instance of agitation I had experienced while playing a Kirby game. Not only was the promise of obtaining the third ingredient to upgrading the copy abilities straying me away from progression, but these sublevels scratched a certain difficulty itch that Kirby games often are too short to reach, or so to speak. When Kirby games offer an added layer of challenge outside the standard track, I’ll gladly dash towards it.
“Treasure Roads” and the major levels on the whole also tend to incorporate another new way to utilize Kirby’s extraordinary orifice, and it's the gameplay portion of Forgotten Land that actually affirms my initial connection to Super Mario Odyssey. In Mario’s soaring adventure on the Switch, the major hook that captured our attention was the prospect that Mario could transform into anything with the swing of his supernatural cap, provided the target was a sentient being with functioning brain capacity. While Mario covers the diverse range of organic creatures to control, Kirby, conversely, dominates the realm of inanimate objects. In certain instances on the field, Kirby will wrap his gaping mouth around a piece of substantially-sized detritus, which will warp his appearance to fit the shape of the object, as if it were covered in a big, pink tarp with eyes. Kirby’s manipulation of the object will also result in using its mechanical utility for what is essentially the same function as a copy ability. Swallowing an O-shaped letter fallen from a formally neon sign will create a giant fan that can emit violent wind gusts used to blow away groups of enemies or steer the voyage of a small wooden boat along the water. Kirby can perform an earth-shattering dive move by plunging himself downward using an oversized traffic cone, and unscrewing the tops of capsules and water towers is a cinch after he picks the bolts with his teeth. Should it be any surprise that Kirby can inflate himself by gulping down gallons of water like SpongeBob and spurt out the mass of accumulated liquid with the drowning force of a firehose? Possessing a car and any arc-shaped object is reserved for segments all to themselves. Kirby will reanimate a sedan’s engine with a complete tank of gasoline to boot and turbo drive himself over an elongated course fit for such a vehicle, while the arc involves Kirby gliding through the air with the grace of an albatross in ring challenges, despite the hefty metallic weight of the objects. Even though Kirby may look foolish and or demented walking around with these pieces of construction lodged in his gullet, borrowing their physical properties and exploiting them for traversal is a perfect way to extend the utility of Kirby’s innate abilities without bloating the array of elements he can copy. Actually, I’m amazed that this feature didn’t cross the minds of the developers until now, but maybe it was going to make its debut in a previous title, and Kirby kept ingesting the large constructs out of habit.
However, by series tradition, only the copy abilities can aid Kirby during the boss encounters. Series staple bosses like Bonkers and Mr. Frosty interrupt Kirby’s progression on the field and drop their respective elements upon their defeat, but the more pressing fights in the game are the area-ending ones against the executive members of The Beast Pack. They’re still a group of animals like the common enemies, although they are not as cuddly on account of their burlier sizes and more ferocious demeanors. I’ll tell you one thing: the departure of 2D into the more advanced polygonal plane makes the bosses of a Kirby game far more formidable from a purely surface-level perspective. I can almost feel Kirby shiver while under the shadow of the colossal gorilla Gorimondo, and I never noticed how mesomorphic King Dedede was until he thrusted his whole body towards me like an oncoming bus. I’ve seen Whispy donning the cybernetic steel of a futuristic killer before, but seeing him as a giant palm tree with a soul patch is truly the stuff of nightmares. One might scoff at these bosses' attempts to intimidate them and state that the copy abilities will carry them through the scuffle, but these assumptions might lead to their demise. A few of these bosses can be particularly swift and overwhelming with their attacks, namely Clawroline with her cat-like reflexes and Sillydillo rolling towards the player like a giant boulder falling from an avalanche. Because the Beast Pack can be surprisingly brutal for a coalition of Kirby bosses, the game even implements a dodge roll maneuver so Kirby can evade some of the swifter barrages. And here I thought that Kirby was the antithesis of Dark Souls and they’d never see eye to eye. Really, what the integration of the quick evasive move indicates is that the developers have made a conscious effort for these bouts to hold the climactic weight that their situations in the story might suggest. All in all, The Beast Pack had me on edge more than any of the particularly confrontational foes residing in Dream Land.
Because of the overall increased tenacity of Forgotten Land’s boss cavalcade, I almost fretted at what the game’s final boss would have in store for me. Then again, I was confident that the game’s true final duel would be locked unless the player was persistent enough to satisfy the completionist route because that was the stipulation that withheld O2 in Kirby 64 and Dark Matter in the Dream Land games. Forgotten Land does indeed feature content that requires extra involvement from the player, and that’s the second fight against Beast Pack leader Leongar and the NG+ section leading up to it that increases the difficulty of familiar territory and bosses with an ethereal touch like the “Hidden Dreams” DLC of Hollow Knight. However, I’d argue that the standard, incomplete path provides a substantial enough conclusion to Forgotten Land’s narrative as is. After slapping some sense into King Dedede for the umpteenth time, Kirby uncovers the impetus for abducting all of the Waddle Dees in the “Lab Discovera.” They’ve been conducting slave work to power what is perceived to be the “ultimate life form,” which is a malformed pink alien instead of a black hedgehog (sorry, not sorry, Shadow). Once Kirby defeats Leongar, who is trying to protect the alleged almighty being, it breaks its glassy confinement and absorbs every lifeform to create a blob of matter as abominable as Akira. It reminds us that the Kirby series holds traces of uncharacteristic cosmic horror that seem to only bubble up in the climax sections. One particular character that the Lovecraftian beast devours is Kirby’s Elfilin buddy, who I haven’t bothered to mention until now because it's nothing but a tutorial fairy that soon becomes a MacGuffin. When this innocuous furry bat fuses with this volatile creature, it results in the form of an archangel with immense power, whose attempts to collide Popstar with this planet are thwarted when Kirby wraps himself in a mach truck and launches himself into it like a revolver bullet. Who would give a speck of a shit about the completionist bonus when THIS is what happens with their halved-assery? Seeing a Kirby game conclude as bombastically as an average episode of anime is a sight to behold and all, but it should never outshine the outcome of the true ending.
Like clockwork, here’s the concluding paragraph where I gripe about how this Kirby game barely made me sweat like all of the big boy games I’m accustomed to. That is, it would be the crux of my critique if Forgotten Land met my expectations of the average Kirby fare. Truthfully, placing Kirby in 3D and limiting his flight capacity doesn’t inherently make for something that causes me to grit my teeth down to the pulp, but I’ve started to focus more on the series' other attributes that make it a delight rather than an underwhelming slog. Specifically, how Forgotten Land innovates on seemingly every aspect of Kirby’s setting and gameplay that is completely distinctive from every one of its predecessors. That, and I greatly appreciate that the game offers an auxiliary challenge in the “treasure roads” and a select few boss battles to quench the thirst of a seasoned gamer such as I. Changing the perspective to a polygonal plane withstanding, Kirby and the Forgotten Land is resolutely Kirby like any of the 2D games before it, with enough revolutions in its gameplay to make it exemplary even if it was rendered in 2D. It makes me wonder why Nintendo was hesitant for Kirby to make the official leap into 3D for so long, but I suppose it's better late than never.

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