(*) Originally released on PC and Xbox One, the Nintendo Switch version came out in 2019, and the PlayStation 4 version in 2020.
I’ve recently criticised heaps of mediocres games, and I realise with some trepidation that there’s still a string of them in the queue. I needed a break. I needed to know whether I was turning into a grumpy old man, or if I was still capable of feeling enthusiastic…
We all remember our first “Tex Avery wolf” reaction when encountering a dazzling title, whether through its artistic direction or extraordinary technical achievement. Most former Amiga owners will mention Shadow of the Beast (1989). I was too young then and lacked points of comparison. But years later, my jaw dropped to the floor when a classmate showed me this (12:30, hold on to your chair!).
And since I’m speaking of Tex Avery, these childhood memories wouldn’t be complete without mentioning afternoons spent in front of a videocassette recorder, watching Dave Fleischer’s Gulliver’s Travels (1939), Warner Bros.’ A Corny Concerto (Looney Tunes, 1943) or Walt Disney’s Symphony Hour (1942, direct link) for the hundredth time. Note the prominent place of music.
Cuphead’s two main creators, two self-taught brothers, belong roughly to my generation (I’ve searched extensively for their age, without success). They grew up in Canada, between a VCR and a Sega Master System. Their video game references include Contra (arcade, 1987) (and its sequels), Gunstar Heroes (Sega Genesis, 1993), and Alien Soldier (Sega Genesis, 1995): fast-paced and technical run and gun games, playable by two simultaneously, offering a selection of interchangeable weapons, and particularly, numerous bosses with sophisticated forms and behaviours.
More unusually, they shared a personal fascination with 1930s cartoons, which they wished to incorporate into their game. Connoisseurs will easily recognise the influences of the Fleischer brothers (the animators of Popeye and Betty Boop) as well as cartoons by Ub Iwerks and Walt Disney (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, Julius the Cat, Flip the Frog and a little mouse whose name escapes me). No doubt they’ve slipped in some tributes to less ancient series, like Woody Woodpecker or Tom and Jerry. Rather refreshing compared to the Japanese manga imitations we see everywhere nowadays, isn’t it?
Presentation usually factors little into my appreciation of a game. Every rule has its exceptions. Cuphead is essentially defined by its unique visual style, which required the majority of the seven years of development. The creators, who had no prior experience in programming or animation, chose to adopt the style of the old cartoons they loved, employing the same animation techniques: hand drawing and inking all characters, frame by frame, to preserve the imperfections, before animating them at 24 frames per second, which demanded considerable work for a small team. And to crown this pursuit of authenticity, the jazzy music, typical of cartoons from that era, is played by a real orchestra. The result is absolutely magnificent. Nothing less than the second video game slap of my life.
Moreover, the game’s substance proves to be perfectly mastered. A synthesis of the titles mentioned above, with one peculiarity: the qualifier Boss Rush, a series of battles against level guardians, strung together without actual levels (or reduced to the occasional interlude). This choice stemmed from limited resources, which they chose to focus on what they valued most: the elaborate bosses choreography. Their ambition was to make each of them as spectacular and memorable as a final boss (monumental size, multiple phases, attacks covering the entire screen that seem insurmountable at first…). While this disdain for traditional platforming sequences delighted initiates, it deprived others of precious breathing moments, making the game particularly intense, not to say oppressive, or even overwhelming. Like dining at a restaurant that only serves desserts. There’s a clientele for that, but better to be forewarned.
Cuphead is renowned as difficult, by today’s standards… The levels are very short, the player has unlimited attempts, and the game saves progress after each victory (except for the very end). Obviously, one must accept dying and starting over to progress, which is no longer a barrier for me since I triumphed over the first level of Eat Mine on my 102nd attempt. So, I can attest that completing this game is entirely doable, armed with a minimum of perseverance (unlike Contra, for instance, which forced us to restart from the beginning after exhausting our “continues”). But I won’t tell you the state of my thumbs…
Let masochists be reassured, however; Cuphead includes a rating system (non-compulsory), which isn’t usually my cup of tea (oh oh oh!), but which pairs well with the pursuit of self-improvement attached to the genre (dying as late as possible, then winning while taking less damage, then achieving the perfect run in record time…). It thus reserves an additional challenge for those who would like to prove their mastery, by achieving an “S” at the end of each level. I’ll speak of this functionality in less glowing terms when I address the Ace Combat series…
There’s a recurring debate about the necessity of implementing different difficulty levels in games (particularly in Eat-Mine-likes). I think that while the player has every right to complain, it’s not up to them to decide, but rather the creators; difficulty being an integral part of the message they seek to communicate (if there are still those who doubt the artistic dimension of the medium). And then, when you spend weeks drawing, animating, and then balancing a boss’s choreography, you don’t want some random Joe to breeze through it in five minutes.
My only criticism: I would have liked the music to stop when pausing the game or minimising the window. As it’s a demanding title, I needed to revive myself between bosses by engaging in other activities. Furthermore, it seems that some colour-blind players endure additional difficulties, because the “parryable” projectiles, which are critically important for increasing the “superpower” gauge, are identified by a pink colouration that isn’t always discernible.
In conclusion, Cuphead boldly attempts to unite enthusiasts of “retro-elitist” games like Contra with old fogies weaned on cartoons. Two sets that overlap only moderately. I unhesitatingly place myself in the second group and acknowledge that had they opted for any other genre, I would probably have followed without question.
The Delicious Last Course expansion was released in 2022, the same year as a Netflix cartoon.
