It just isn’t that much fun to play. That’s the thing I keep coming back to. Hohokum is gorgeous, stuffed with elaborate landscapes and bright construction-paper colors. You play a stringy worm thing, and you glide around several beautiful levels with loose (very loose) instruction. You poke and prod until a tangible direction falls out, the code is broken open, you’re rewarded with a cut-scene or another worm thing, and you move on.
Basically, Hohokum would’ve been a lot more impressive in 2007. You know, around the same time flow and Braid were kicking off the still-churning movement of indie games getting prime downloadable real estate on high-tech, HD consoles. There was a sense of inquisitiveness back then, developers challenging the core concepts of level design, control and core gameplay values. It’s difficult to remember now, but there was a time when asking how “game-y” a game needed to be was a legitimate talking point. In an era where Gone Home and The Walking Dead are taking home some of the biggest awards in the business, those archaic questions feel a lot more like the trend rather than the future.
That’s where Hohokum’s biggest problems lie. It feels like a rough prototype of a genre that’s already been perfected and paved-over by other, more comprehensive experiences. A game like Fez introduced you to its surreal, Technicolor world, and then plunged you into a massive web of cryptology and conspiracy. Journey created one of the deepest character experiences of all time with some well-placed emoting and a strong gust of wind. Hohokum is all tapestry, a skin-deep romp through a bright color palette. You’ll save an erstwhile prince from the depths of a cave, interrupt a beach party, free a monkey from an elephant, but it won’t matter. There’s not a greater purpose here. The developers seem to believe that the very experience of exploring this pretty universe is enough motivation for your investment. It’s simply not there.
