*head-related pun*
I imagine that I have a different relationship with Double Fine than others do. I never played Grim Fandango or Day of the Tentacle as a child despite my love of adventure games. And regardless of the serious fandom surrounding it, I've also never touched Psychonauts. I have played Stacking and The Cave, the former I won from a Game Informer contest and the latter was a free download on Playstation Plus at some point. And I enjoyed both of them. The game I did pay for, enough to get my name in the credits, was Broken Age, which started well but ended poorly. So it was with a reserved fascination that I found myself taking advantage of a code for Headlander, sent to me by the publisher, Adult Swim Games, unsolicited.
Headlander takes place in a retro-futuristic setting where the universe is no longer populated by humans but rather by semi-conscious robots. You, the player, are a head. Where your disembodied head came from or why it has been detached is left for the final act — your whole being is contained in a remarkably utilitarian helmet. Awakened on The Starcophagus as it is falling apart, you make a hasty escape towards adventure while learning what your helmet has to offer. Initially, your only defensive ability, though a good one, is vacuuming the heads off of robots and assuming control of their bodies. And this is the basis of the gameplay.
As you progress, you gain other abilities, of course. As just a floating head, you can eventually form a shield to reflect lasers, charge into robots to behead or destroy them, and even slow down time. Attached to a body, you can transfer your regenerative healing abilities, enhance melee strength, turn bodies into bombs, and more. The bodies of ordinary denizens, however you'd interpret that in this setting, don't do anything special and are rather fragile, though pressing the button for melee will make them dance. (There's an achievement for seeing all of these, and they are all wonderful.) Instead, your goal is to inhabit the soldiers of various colors and utilize their laser guns to attack, defend, and progress.
The massive space station you land on after the tutorial is explored much like any Metroidvania-style game. As you gain access to new abilities by finding upgrades hidden about or by possessing higher-echelon colors on the ROYGBV scale, more paths open up. The soldiers can only open doors of their colors or below, as determined by a sassy security system by the name of ROOD, and they can do so by walking in front of them or shooting their colored lasers at the doors. These lasers reflect and bounce around, characteristics you must take note of, and as you make your way through the game's ten-hour campaign, shootouts with other robots become almost nonsensical as bright line segments fill the screen in criss-crossed chaos.
Throughout my time with the game, these shootouts never got particularly good, though. Although I enjoyed finding soldiers with more useful guns, some shooting three or four lasers at once and in different angles, sitting there and trying to shoot an onslaught of enemies felt tiresome. Shooting from the hip felt careless, especially since the most efficient way to finish an enemy is to behead them, but the time it can take to use the aim assist mode from behind cover somehow dampens the immediacy of the situation. Instead, upgrading my vacuuming and shield abilities proved to be the most useful, often finishing off a room by flying from robot to robot with my Hoover on high. During times when I needed to stay connected to a particular body, I would often leave it in a corner while the tiny head did all the work. Obviously, this makes Headlander seem to lend itself to anyone's style of play, but I personally cannot imagine anyone wanting to waste time with guns. Sucking heads off is honestly more fun, and it can be amusing to watch your opponents try to resist.
Reservations about the combat aside, prevalent as it is, traveling about the environments is a treat for a myriad of reasons. Mainly, the visuals are just delicious. Not only has much care been poured into maintaining a cohesive style, reminiscent of sci-fi movies and TV shows from the 70's, but little details are abound. Almost every room is littered in logos, pictures, decorations, and furniture in a diorama-style presentation, making each seem like a nostalgic collector's fantasy dollhouse. But it's not just about looks. Shag carpet crumples under your feet as you trample it, ordinary citizens make varying comments as you pass them, and there are computer terminals with no purpose but to amuse you upon interaction. Put simply, the world of Headlander has occasional brushes with realism when its labyrinthine maps hint at a plausible ecosystem, greater fiction notwithstanding. Much like Remember Me, rooms often felt like they served some purpose, and the game offers many reasons to stop moving and bask in the goings-on.
The story feels like a swing and a miss, exacerbated by a vacuous couple of acts at the end, where you're left to explore aimlessly across a huge section of map. The underpinnings of the story relate to the aforementioned semi-consciousness of the robots. Humanity is apparently long dead thanks to a dictatorial supercomputer, Methuselah, and your actions predictably act in opposition to it, even aiding in outright rebellion. Taken lightly, the whole idea of liberating the free will of the people because you're So Darned Special™ is facile and done to death. But more seriously, your existence as the only human, albeit just a head, and free-thinking being in a world of robots waiting for your help kinda sorta reeks of common colonialist and imperialist undertones we find in much of Western fiction. That you are eventually required to aid a faction of robots who have already developed free will somehow, beret-wearing feminists really, but just cannot overcome their oppressor adds that extra shake of spice to the formula. It's mundane.
Delving into the sub-story, that of your head's identity and origins, there's still much to be desired. The explanations given for who you are and why you were even resuscitated are shaky at best, and you are not properly given much payoff on your quest. Ultimately, your struggle is inherently tied to the greater fight, that of defeating Methuselah, while your personal tale takes an unfortunate backseat. Even in an often humorous story like this one, I felt there were matters of identity and purpose that should have been addressed in such a manner that one could feel a spiritual victory over the present circumstances. Coupled with the post-finale world — that is, after you've defeated the final boss — being roughly the same save for a few thankful robots, your quest feels fruitless and worthless.
Thank goodness for the work put into the environment! Headlander is authentically a delightful game to play if only for the joy of discovery it facilitates. While combat could use some work, and the story is thoughtless, I loved my time spent seeing new things, engaging with funny characters, and marveling at the sparkling, mod world created for me. But it would be nice if other aspects were given as much attention. It just can't get a-head.
Headlander takes place in a retro-futuristic setting where the universe is no longer populated by humans but rather by semi-conscious robots. You, the player, are a head. Where your disembodied head came from or why it has been detached is left for the final act — your whole being is contained in a remarkably utilitarian helmet. Awakened on The Starcophagus as it is falling apart, you make a hasty escape towards adventure while learning what your helmet has to offer. Initially, your only defensive ability, though a good one, is vacuuming the heads off of robots and assuming control of their bodies. And this is the basis of the gameplay.
As you progress, you gain other abilities, of course. As just a floating head, you can eventually form a shield to reflect lasers, charge into robots to behead or destroy them, and even slow down time. Attached to a body, you can transfer your regenerative healing abilities, enhance melee strength, turn bodies into bombs, and more. The bodies of ordinary denizens, however you'd interpret that in this setting, don't do anything special and are rather fragile, though pressing the button for melee will make them dance. (There's an achievement for seeing all of these, and they are all wonderful.) Instead, your goal is to inhabit the soldiers of various colors and utilize their laser guns to attack, defend, and progress.
 |
| It's just so retro and beautiful. |
Throughout my time with the game, these shootouts never got particularly good, though. Although I enjoyed finding soldiers with more useful guns, some shooting three or four lasers at once and in different angles, sitting there and trying to shoot an onslaught of enemies felt tiresome. Shooting from the hip felt careless, especially since the most efficient way to finish an enemy is to behead them, but the time it can take to use the aim assist mode from behind cover somehow dampens the immediacy of the situation. Instead, upgrading my vacuuming and shield abilities proved to be the most useful, often finishing off a room by flying from robot to robot with my Hoover on high. During times when I needed to stay connected to a particular body, I would often leave it in a corner while the tiny head did all the work. Obviously, this makes Headlander seem to lend itself to anyone's style of play, but I personally cannot imagine anyone wanting to waste time with guns. Sucking heads off is honestly more fun, and it can be amusing to watch your opponents try to resist.
 |
| Attention to detail: vacuum robot porn poster. |
Reservations about the combat aside, prevalent as it is, traveling about the environments is a treat for a myriad of reasons. Mainly, the visuals are just delicious. Not only has much care been poured into maintaining a cohesive style, reminiscent of sci-fi movies and TV shows from the 70's, but little details are abound. Almost every room is littered in logos, pictures, decorations, and furniture in a diorama-style presentation, making each seem like a nostalgic collector's fantasy dollhouse. But it's not just about looks. Shag carpet crumples under your feet as you trample it, ordinary citizens make varying comments as you pass them, and there are computer terminals with no purpose but to amuse you upon interaction. Put simply, the world of Headlander has occasional brushes with realism when its labyrinthine maps hint at a plausible ecosystem, greater fiction notwithstanding. Much like Remember Me, rooms often felt like they served some purpose, and the game offers many reasons to stop moving and bask in the goings-on.
The story feels like a swing and a miss, exacerbated by a vacuous couple of acts at the end, where you're left to explore aimlessly across a huge section of map. The underpinnings of the story relate to the aforementioned semi-consciousness of the robots. Humanity is apparently long dead thanks to a dictatorial supercomputer, Methuselah, and your actions predictably act in opposition to it, even aiding in outright rebellion. Taken lightly, the whole idea of liberating the free will of the people because you're So Darned Special™ is facile and done to death. But more seriously, your existence as the only human, albeit just a head, and free-thinking being in a world of robots waiting for your help kinda sorta reeks of common colonialist and imperialist undertones we find in much of Western fiction. That you are eventually required to aid a faction of robots who have already developed free will somehow, beret-wearing feminists really, but just cannot overcome their oppressor adds that extra shake of spice to the formula. It's mundane.
 |
| Seriously, look at all this! |
Delving into the sub-story, that of your head's identity and origins, there's still much to be desired. The explanations given for who you are and why you were even resuscitated are shaky at best, and you are not properly given much payoff on your quest. Ultimately, your struggle is inherently tied to the greater fight, that of defeating Methuselah, while your personal tale takes an unfortunate backseat. Even in an often humorous story like this one, I felt there were matters of identity and purpose that should have been addressed in such a manner that one could feel a spiritual victory over the present circumstances. Coupled with the post-finale world — that is, after you've defeated the final boss — being roughly the same save for a few thankful robots, your quest feels fruitless and worthless.
Thank goodness for the work put into the environment! Headlander is authentically a delightful game to play if only for the joy of discovery it facilitates. While combat could use some work, and the story is thoughtless, I loved my time spent seeing new things, engaging with funny characters, and marveling at the sparkling, mod world created for me. But it would be nice if other aspects were given as much attention. It just can't get a-head.
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