The first time I throw down a cannister of GROB, I’m not entirely sure what it is. As it explodes into a satisfying puddle of goo, the exotic creatures around me – my scanner tells me they’re Pufferbirds and they “like, love me”: it’s already reciprocal – screech a joyful, if alien, screech and waddle straight to it. Awed, I waddle right after them.
Journey to the Savage Planet reviewDeveloper: TyphoonPublisher: 505Platform: Played on PS4 ProAvailability: Out January 28th on PC, Xbox One and PS4
Moments later, their little bodies start contorting and their cheerful chirps fade. With dawning horror, I realise I’ve mindlessly thrown down this unspecified foodstuff without knowing anything about it – even though I’m playing a game with the word “savage” baked right into the title – noticing for the first time it’s labelled “bait” in my inventory. It’s too late for recriminations, though, isn’t it? These poor creatures are jitter-bugging their final death throes. I’ll be branded a Pufferbird Poisoner, I think. The Avicide Assassin. Spare me no leniency, I’ll wail, as they drag me from the dock. Don’t let me-
The convulsion ends in an obnoxiously noisy fart and a cloud of blue atoms spills out from beneath the Pufferbird’s backside. Its neighbour swiftly follows it up with a clamorous bottom-burp of its own. There’s another trouser toot from the corner of the cave – I hadn’t even spotted that one – and the faint luminosity of untapped atoms now presses softly against the dark walls of the cavern. I step cautiously towards them, still wary of upsetting the fowl, and gather my first resource – carbon – of the game.
Not all experimentation in Journey to the Savage Planet ends so innocuously, of course, but this initial encounter sets the template for what will probably be several hours’ worth of “ooh, I wonder what happens if I do THIS?”. I spend/waste a lot of time idly skipping through the striking regions of planet AR-Y 26, ears pricked for the telltale “gloop-gloop” sound that lets me know something gross but edible is pulsating close by. Other times there’ll be a gentle tinkle to tell me a rich vein of coveted resources – carbon or aluminium, perhaps – is close at hand, or a hypnotic musical sting will indicate a secret is hidden nearby.