The "tasty" moon hangs overhead, and my Skate Story hero is starving. The Skater is a demon, wandering the lonesome plains of the underworld with gnawing hunger pains, when a strange thought occurs to him: why not just take a bite out of the bright shiny thing to sate himself? It's not like there's anything else to do down here, anyway.
After making a four-part pact to obtain a skateboard with which to achieve his ambitions, the Skater finds himself turned to glass. Each bump against a hard object from that point on, no matter how small, deals damage to his fragile form. Iridescent shards scatter the ground wherever he falls, a much prettier stand-in for blood that remains until you ollie, kickflip, or shuvit your way through the area successfully. But not only does the Skate Story demo show off smooth gameplay mechanics and stylish, immersive level design, the game's philosophical framework proves it a truly unique experience that demands to be held up to the light for every facet to sparkle.
Moonage daydream
The elevator pitch for Skate Story doesn't do it justice. It's more than a skating game set in the underworld, or a mission to eat the moon – which is the subject of most demons' greatest fears, I'm told in the game's opening sequences. After playing the first chapter of Skate Story through its hour-long demo, I find that it's actually a game about life, death, and the soul-soothing balm of skateboarding.
As a non-skater myself, I didn't expect to be particularly great at it in a video game. My exposure to the Tony Hawk franchise extends about as far as its punk rock soundtrack, but when it comes to the controls in Skate Story, I find them blessedly intuitive. There's a peaceful calm that comes with rolling through its introductory sequences, swerving walls and other obstacles lest I tap them lightly with my board and shatter into a million pieces. It kind of feels like Burnout 2, or for anyone who remembers the days when Facebook games were everything, Crazy Taxi. Despite my apprehensions, I find myself swept away by the crystalline Skater on a journey through his innermost psyche, accompanied by driving psycho-synth beats that grow progressively hypnotic.
That whole psyche thing is the thematic core of Skate Story, though it's not apparent until just after the introduction. My goal is to eat the moon? I mean, literally eat the literal moon? Yes, and also no. Skate Story is all about metaphor, from what the moon symbolizes to what the other beings around the Skater symbolize in themselves.
As the Skater weaves through mystical portals with the help of a gleaming white rabbit – hello, Alice in Wonderland nod – he comes across some naysayers, represented by floating eyeball icons. These watchful eyes are aghast by the Skater's chosen mode of transport, castigating him for disobeying the rules of their realm. "That's not allowed," one of them wails. "It's illegal!" "It's such a racket! Something must be done!"
Immediately I realize that this must be an unsubtle dig at real-world neighborhood watchdogs who police the act of skateboarding, considering it a form of vandalism and unsociable behavior in their otherwise perfect cul-de-sacs. This theme of injustice against skaters and their vilification in the eyes of society (geddit?) seems to be another prevailing sentiment, though just how on-the-nose the references get is hard to tell after just 48 minutes in the demo.
Boardwalk
Despite my apprehensions, I find myself swept away by the crystalline Skater on a journey through his innermost psyche.
Skate Story isn't just about tearing through the underworld on a rickety deck, because that deck also serves as a weapon. Performing tricks deals damage to enemies, as I experience twice during the demo when I face both the Moon and the Philosopher.
Damage is connected to your board's momentum. Tricking off or up an incline deals extra damage, as does performing the legendary kickflip with perfect timing, while performing one trick too often descales its damage output. I soon get the hang of the requisite button combos at my disposal: pressing the left bumper and B buttons on my Xbox controller has the Skater pop a shuvit, while the right bumper and B buttons unleashes the devastating kickflip. It's just a taste of what the full game will unlock, I'm sure, but it's a welcome one that shows plenty of innovative promise.
Upon completing the tutorial, I am sent to the Lyceum. This limbo-like place is the domain of The Philosopher, a wise and seemingly all-knowing presence that governs a part of the universe where souls can wander and ponder for all eternity. The Philosopher implores the Skater to abandon his futile mission and stay awhile, perhaps forever, in his sprawling garden of contemplation. In short: he can choose the course of inaction, taking solace in the what-ifs and comparable safety of the status quo, or he can defy the odds stacked against him. Obviously, he chooses the latter.
I could wax lyrical about the sheer feat of this game, especially as a solodev project from skater-developer Sam Eng, but I'd hate to spoil all the surprises. But if you're hankering for an otherworldly action experience that forces moments of staggering introspection, as well as those of true awe, look no further than Skate Story.
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