Review: Bakeru

I sometimes feel as though I’m deficient in the sort of nutrients found within the Ganbare Goemon series, but then I remember that I’m still playing them. New fan translations are still arriving. However, I would like to secure a future supply, and that’s where Bakeru comes in.

Or so I thought. To be straightforward with you, while the inspiration is clearly there, Bakeru is also deficient in the sort of nutrients found within Ganbare Goemon. That’s maybe not as damning as it sounds, but it definitely means you’ll need to check your expectations.

Bakeru (PC, Switch [Reviewed])
Developer: Good-Feel
Publisher: Spike Chunsoft
Released: September 3, 2024
MSRP: $39.99

Bakeru comes to us from Good-Feel, the folks behind Kirby’s Epic Yarn and Yoshi’s Woolly World. More relevant to this discussion is the fact that they were formed by people escaping from Konami. There are many on the team who have been involved with the development of a Ganbare Goemon game, including Etsunobu Ebisu, who helped program the second Famicom title in 1989 and whose appearance was the basis of Ebisumaru, Goemon’s sidekick.

The nucleus of the idea behind Bakeru was probably to be a spiritual successor to Ganbare Goemon. You have a blue-haired lead, he travels across a wacky version of Japan, and the antagonist is employing the strategy of holding an endless festival to enslave the population. The lead is a tanuki rather than a noble thief, and it’s modern day Japan with traditional elements rather than Edo-era Japan filled with anachronisms, but it’s close enough.

From there, the differences start stacking up. Bakeru plays very well, whereas I can’t remember playing a 3D Goemon game that didn’t feel loose and shaky. The titular character attacks with taiko drumsticks (and included drum) which are alternated between using the left and right bumpers. You don’t necessarily have to alternate, and the game is easygoing enough that you don’t have to master all the moves, but it’s perhaps more involving than bopping people with a pipe.

Unfortunately, about a dozen levels in, I realized I wasn’t having fun. You travel from prefecture to prefecture, but their representations are a little too basic. They are, of course, strange abstractions from reality (not sure why Okinawa is an underwater resort), but they’re often wide, flat corridors filled with groups of enemies.

It does get better once you clear the first act of the game. It improves enough that, while I was beginning to fear slogging through the rest of its over 50 levels, that fear was relieved after getting through the opening 16-ish levels. Progression changes so that you’re clearing regions one prefecture at a time, and more interesting level variations get dropped into the mix. I didn’t fall in love after that, but it became entertaining enough that I didn’t feel I was slogging until I had to push through the last sizeable chunk of the game for this review. Don’t do that. Play it in bits at a time.

The level design never becomes fantastic, but it does become more playful. The visual variety between prefectures can be rather vast, and new obstacles are constantly brought up, sometimes for a single level. For every two that feel token, there’s usually one that is more surprising. It wasn’t enough to fully engross me, but it keeps things enjoyable.

It can be difficult to pinpoint why Bakeru doesn’t live up to the (admittedly often rough) Ganbare Goemon series, but I think the big reason might surprise you: there are no hotels. There are no hot springs to bathe in (though there are levels set in them), nor are there stupid, pointless mini-games to waste time at. There isn’t an assortment of restaurants that all have the same function. There are no towns at all.

That may sound like it’s an unreasonable point of comparison. Bakeru doesn’t have to wholesale copy the (very malleable) formula of Goemon, it can be its own thing. A lot of the side activities in Goemon may seem superfluous. However, on reflection, they’re necessary to tie the journeys together and break up the levels. They are a vector to draw you into the game’s world, even as bizarre as it is.

Without them, you have over 50 disconnected levels. Because you never see a citizen of Japan in these prefectures (unless they’ve become those masked people), the world feels empty. As splendorous as it is, there’s a desolation to it without someone telling you that while Oracle Saitaro may be a madman, at least the invasion has gotten them off work for the day. Instead, you only hear conversations between Bakeru and the circle of friends he gathers around him. It’s rather lonely.

But even ignoring the vibes, Bakeru’s moment-to-moment gameplay isn’t spectacular. There’s platforming and new mechanics get added throughout, but nothing profound. You gain four transformations by the end of the first act, but they aren’t profound either. There were many levels where I didn’t use them at all. They’re entirely combat-oriented, except for one, so transformation is rarely a requirement. I feel like it’s a mixed opportunity to not add some sort of unique ability to each.

Despite not being exciting, the gameplay is rather polished. The framerate would drop on the Switch version, but that’s the only major blemish I saw. The visuals are clean and colorful, the controls are tight, and the combat is responsive and flows well. But I feel that’s part of the problem. It’s polished so smooth that there aren’t any edges. Bakeru’s ambition never reaches very far, so it doesn’t really stumble. Mundane but well-executed is rarely better than ambitious and wobbly.

At least the soundtrack is pretty good. Some of the tracks feel like they could have been ripped from a Ganbare Goemon game. It’s a nice mix of traditional Japanese instrumentation and video game-specific melodies.

Bakeru is a love letter to the country of Japan, that much is obvious. As I traveled the country, I was always invested in seeing how the prefectures I’ve visited are represented. I can only imagine how exciting it is for people who actually live there. One of the collectibles you gather in each level is trivia, which is a mix of facts about the area and also just weird and interesting stuff. If there’s one area that Bakeru is extremely effective, its how it portrays Japan.

Everywhere else, it’s less successful. It’s not bad. I’d even say it’s very solid. It’s just somewhat bland. In its effort to provide a smooth surface, it has sanded off a lot of personality. Despite being over 50 (rather lengthy) levels long, in a few months, I probably won’t remember much about Bakeru. It provides a loving representation of Japan, but doesn’t let you live in it. It lets you visit, but you’re not allowed to leave the resort. I’m just saying: A fight between a teapot robot and a giant onigiri is a lot more effective if you’ve met the people you’re stepping on.

_{[This review is based on a retail build of the game provided by the publisher.]}