Beast of Reincarnation Review

Beast of Reincarnation draws a quiet and sombre picture of the fall of mankind. Civilisation fell 1000 years ago, and what’s left is truly the dregs at the bottom of the barrel. The world has been corrupted by the blight, all stemming forth from the titular Beast of Reincarnation. Every 100 years, the beast rises again, bringing further chaos and destruction to a dwindling population that already have next to nothing. It’s bleak.

That’s where our heroine Emma comes in. She’s a purifier, sent out to battle the blight and its hosts of infected creatures and golem. She doesn’t make for a typical protagonist, though, loathed by the general populace for her own blight infection, which in turn has robbed her of all emotion and care. She is, in many ways, an empty vessel, but one which you will see to filling through the course of the story.

The first step on that road is Koo, a large malefact that takes the form of a dog. He too is infected by the blight, but after Emma saves him from a critical wound, they form an inseparable bond, one that’s punctuated by cuddles, a wondrously floofy coat, and the times where Emma showers with the giant dog to remove the blood of their enemies. Yes, really.

Emma’s life is pretty messed up. She’s an outcast, thanks to her infection from the blight, with the few remaining humans shunning her, treating her like dirt, and calling her “stained”. The golem aren’t much better, at least the ones that oversee the towns and settlements, and she’s fitted with a toxic choker that will kill her if she steps out of line. She’s clearly seen as a tool, a necessary evil, who’s called upon to deal with the blight, the immense Nushi, or infected golem, and despite all this, she answers the call.

Much of the story and character progression centres around Emma and her small entourage, who see her as a person, beyond the blight that’s tangled throughout her body. Emma is without emotion, often struggling to understand the social cues, needs and desires of those around her, and while this could have come off as robotic and distant, it’s actually quite touching and gently dealt with, expanding on the underlying threads of loneliness and reflecting the damaged and largely empty world she inhabits. It’s distinctly Japanese, and that might not sit comfortably with western audiences.

Beast of Reincarnation strikes a melancholic tone, a quietude that carries a surprising amount of depth and emotion. There’s Emma, detached and unsure how to interact with the world, while carrying a deep sense of loss, both for her own humanity and for those around her. That loss extends out into the world, its shattered and ruined remains speaking to what we have now, and extrapolating a course where humanity is at the brink of extinction.

It’s increasingly cinematic, though it feels more like a high-concept sci-fi indie than a Disney-fied blockbuster. I loved the plaintive soundtrack, the detached protagonist, and the design of post-apocalyptic Japan, decaying buildings given over to the blight, with an early highlight being the way the forest rises up and changes the landscape with the arrival of the Nushi.

The Nushi are gigantic boss creatures that punctuate the end of each area, and they’re very close in design and feel to the naturalistic monsters of EA’s monster-hunting Wild Hearts. The tendrils of vines, flowering branches and unnatural growths that flow through and across each Nushi are so reminiscent that you could interchange them between either game, though that’s not to diminish the fact that they still look and feel distinctive enough to stand alone.

Beast of Reincarnation is fundamentally a Souls-lite, taking a number of crucial elements from the genre and reducing the difficulty somewhat. That’s not to say it’s easy, because it’s not. If you find yourself surrounded, or mistime a few parries, you’ll need to prepare for a swift and ignominious death. Growth, combat abilities and upgrades come quickly though, and you retain any skill points earned before you died, making it a much smoother and less frustrating path, even if the need to grind remains.

Where it seems to have emulated its forebears a little too closely is in the feeling of jank. Combat can feel messy, with the camera occasionally placing itself too close to the action or even inside a beast. It can feel indefinite, your attacks whiffing for no reason, while leaping into the air can then present bigger problems with the game seeming to struggle with hitboxes and multiple combatants on different elevations. These things aren’t new to the genre – hell, there’s plenty of fun to be found in messing with the systems and trying to get through encounters in the most frictionless way possible – but we had started to leave them behind over the past decade.

Combat is still enjoyable. The parry window is just that much wider than some of Beast of Reincarnation’s peers, doing a great job of making you feel cool and smart, and when you get it right you’ll find yourself balanced on the very edge of your seat, heart hammering in your ears. It’s tense stuff, and despite the jank, I continued to be drawn on, exploring and scouting through every region, looking for as many opponents as possible.

There’s not the widest variety of enemies, but some of them are so lethal, and their silhouette so distinct, that you’ll still get a rush of adrenaline when you decide to face them, rather than skirt around them, and carry on with your day.

This is the part where we say “but”. Beast of Reincarnation has some more serious rough edges at times, and chief among them is the game’s performance. Game Freak are not exactly well known for optimising their games, and even with the grunt of the PS5, that’s true here as well. There are two graphics options, Graphics and Performance, but I’d go so far as to say that Graphics mode is virtually unplayable. It’s definitely shooting for 30fps, but it’s not stable, with some areas, particularly indoors, causing it to tank. Playing on this setting gave me an almighty headache, and it is only marginally prettier when you’re standing still.

Performance mode is better, though it too sees frame drops and pop-in despite the clearly reduced resolution and level of detail. It is liveable, but it’s not what I’d expect to see at this point in the PS5’s lifecycle. It diminishes the art direction, overall aesthetic and the feel of the game, so I have to hope that Game Freak will continue working on the game post-launch to shore things up.

Beast of Reincarnation is gloriously quirky, but equally uneven; I relished in the oddities and weirdness, including the camper van-like walker you call home, replete with chicken coop, tiny farm and shower you share with your dog, but niggling annoyances abound, like the fact that it feels like there are about two songs on the entire soundtrack – they’re both bangers though – the sense that some gameplay elements, like the hunger gauge that you have to go into a menu to see, were thrown in for good measure, or, when you run up against weirdly implemented invisible walls when you’re exploring, that could have just been another hillside or mountainous rock face.