Braid (PC) review "What impressed me the most was the willingness the developers showed to craft such an entertaining and challenging title despite placing the lion's share of the emphasis on the metaphoric story. Strip away the plot and we're left with an addictive puzzle/platformer."

Braid opens to a somber tune and a shadowed, contemplative figure overlooking a city. You guide our hero, a disheveled man by the name of Tim, out of the darkness and into a colorful and surreal realm where afroed goombas frolic and platforms float in the sky. Here we discover what's eating Tim: his missing maiden, an elusive princess who's always in another castle. What we see on the surface is a lot of creative strangeness attached to an innocent puzzle/platformer, but we know that's not all there is to the story.

All over the game are clues to what's really going on in Tim's life. At the beginning of each of Braid's six worlds are a set of books filled with ambiguous passages and poetic prose. We are not forced to read them, yet many of us will anyway. Those who make such an investment of their time will either find oblique and/or pretentious writings that serve to belie the game's brilliance, or they will see subtle metaphors that fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The former will dismiss the narrative, yet still find a great and challenging adventure, and the latter will find a reward for their troubles.

Braid is all about narrative. It intertwines its metaphors with its mechanics and level designs, even with stage names. Yet it does so in a subtle, even clever, way, and you can bet that every odd occurrence is relevant to the narrative. There's a reason why the hub leading Tim to the different worlds looks like the innards of a house, and why each room holds a different memory. From the ways the flags fly on the castle to the elusive nature of the princess, everything has a place in Braid's plot.

Part of me wants to wave all of this away, because these are themes and concepts I love to see in literature but dislike in videogames. I usually like to keep my Dickens and Faulkner separate from my Ancel and Miyamoto. Somehow, though, Braid won me over in spite my of reluctance to accept a game with such a deep narrative. Mostly, it was because the game didn't force the narrative down my throat by pushing me from one cutscene to the next, and even left little obligation to ponder on it.

What impressed me the most was the willingness the developers showed to craft such an entertaining and challenging title despite placing the lion's share of the emphasis on the metaphoric story. Strip away the plot and we're left with an addictive puzzle/platformer. Most games of this sort have a simple objective: complete the stage. However, completing the stage here isn't necessarily the object. You could fly through stages doing the least required of you, as most of them can be completed by running to the right and going through the door leading to the next stage. Do that and you'll miss the puzzle pieces spread throughout the game. These are not required for completing stages, but they are essential for accessing the game's ending.

Even that, though, isn't the real reason you want to get the puzzle pieces. You like fun, don't you? Braid doesn't force you to grab the puzzle pieces, but you are anyway. You don't have to run through brain-teasing gauntlets of puzzles, or form plans and strategies to nab these suckers. It's a lot of trouble, but it's from the trouble that we derive our entertainment. It's like the game is telling you that playing is more important than completing, like the tired cliche about the journey mattering more than the destination. Yes, that ties in with the narrative as well.

Obtaining early puzzle pieces will require maybe two brain cells. An out-of-reach puzzle piece can be easily obtained by bouncing off a nearby afro-goomba. As you advance, the brain cell requirement exponentially increases. The game will test your timing and logic, throwing the right switches at the right moment, killing the correct enemies in the correct order, using the proper key to open a door. You'll always look back and hope you didn't overlook a detail. If you did, then that's what reversing time is for.

Each new world introduces a new facet of this ability, increasing the capacity for variety and more creative puzzles. The first world, whose theme aptly revolves around righting your wrongs and forgiveness, only allows you to reverse time. It's also the easiest and most basic world. In another world, turning back time will create a doppleganger of yourself who can interact with environmental stimuli. Another presents you with items and enemies that are not affected by backpedaling. In most cases, grabbing a key and then reversing time causes you to lose the key. However, a key immune to reversing stays in your grasp even when turning back the clock.

At points, the game really gets tricky, even downright frustrating. There are points where you have to time your reversing just right. You'll find situations where you need to get through an area before it closes on you, with a wild string of events set up for you to complete in order to get through. You could reverse time if the way closes, but that would also undo your progress. You have to consider the order of operations, toy with different possibilities to see which ones work best, and develop efficient strategies that aren't exactly easy to puzzle out. It's definitely an engaging adventure, even for those who don't wish to reflect on the narrative.

I like to think of Braid as a game that unifies gamers. Those who love narrative will be satisfied digging into the treasure trove of implications and ambiguity to derive a message. Those who just want to play without consideration for what it all means will find a difficult and addictive puzzler with a diverse assortment of challenges. Those who enjoy both will appreciate the way the two factors come together in harmony. Whether you want intellectual depth or not, there's a little something for everyone.

Community review by JoeTheDestroyer (March 15, 2012) Rumor has it that Joe is not actually a man, but a machine that likes video games, horror movies, and long walks on the beach. His/Its first contribution to HonestGamers was a review of Breath of Fire III.