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Developer Giant Squid was born from members of the team that created 2012’s Journey. Giant Squid founder and Sword of the Sea’s director, Matt Nava, is credited as Journey’s art director, but frankly, you could have guessed that just from looking at the screenshots at the top of this page. This is Giant Squid’s third game, but it is arguably the one that feels the most indebted to Journey – and that’s a compliment. It certainly has its own distinct vibe, story, and, as you progress deeper in the game, art style, but in some ways, it feels like it picks up where that landmark 2012 video game left off.
Sword of the Sea is not a wordless story. Occasionally, you come across stone tablets that offer cryptic prose about what may or may not be happening in this world, but for the most part, your appreciation of the narrative comes strictly from the visuals. You are a swordsperson who prefers to ride your sword like a hoverboard rather than swing it on an adventure to bring aquatic life back to dried out world covered with rolling sand.
The star of the show is the feeling of riding your sword. Gaining speed and leaping from giant sand dunes is fluid and fast. New abilities unlocked over the course of the game only make movement feel better, and different surface types lead to slightly different approaches in how to gain speed and height to hit that next destination. Finding those rhythms on the hills is where Sword of the Sea sings, and the excellent pace of the experience means you are rarely slowing down. I finished my first playthrough in under three hours but immediately started its new game plus mode in order to unlock the final few abilities and see how quickly I could get to the game’s thrilling finale again.
While the ease and speed of movement is Sword of the Sea’s primary highlight, its visuals are a close second. I loved the loop of seeing what’s next and pausing to take in the gorgeous sights. Periodically, the game takes camera control from the player as they are careening down a hill to focus on the landscape in the distance, and I was always eager to hand it over just to make sure I could pay attention to what I was seeing without having to worry about jumping at the right time.
The ocean-themed art direction also leads to unexpected moments that are weird in just the right way. Sword of the Sea likes to play with your expectations, and I was frequently surprised by what I was doing and what was happening.
Perhaps the only shortcoming is that I didn’t find the narrative particularly emotional. It is difficult to create moving moments between characters who don’t speak and exist in an abstract world, and Sword of the Sea doesn’t quite stick the landing. I wouldn’t define my experience with that part of the game as disappointing, but rather that the implications of the narrative didn’t quite keep up with how good the game looks, feels, and sounds. I wanted more.
I appreciate Sword of the Sea’s brevity and visual goals. It never gets close to dragging or overstaying its welcome. It moves at the pace of a magical swordsperson speeding across sand dunes on a floating blade at 170 miles per hour (a speedometer unlocks after you beat the game), and it never gives you a reason to look away. I wanted to feel more from the story, perhaps only because every other element of the experience elevated it so high that my expectations were right up there with them.
