Ah, now there's the smile we know and love! As expected, Kirby's preciousness shines especially well through clay, and there is perhaps no better representative to bear it than Kirby and the Rainbow Curse: a claymation-based title matched only by Kirby's Epic Yarn in sheer cuteness. Even now, we must continue cherishing this pure countenance, for it is the last time Kirby bared this visage for an international audience.
Anywho, Kirby and the Rainbow Curse is not only the one Wii U Kirby game, but is a sequel to 2005's Kirby: Canvas Curse, the one series entry notable for captivating non-fans. Hailed as Nintendo's first truly original concept for Nintendo DS, Canvas Curse remains the handheld's hallmark for touchscreen play: drawing rainbow strokes for Kirby to coast along played unlike anything else in the market, and combined with a techno soundtrack and mish-mash of abstract aesthetics so alien to Kirby, it's little wonder it succeeded as it did.
In contrast, it's not so surprising Rainbow Curse didn't meet the same acclaim: while the Wii U GamePad is a perfect fit for its gameplay (stylus and touchscreen, y'know) and its claymation aesthetic is every bit as ambitious, HAL's first HD game reverts to a more familiar presentation in bright colors and light-hearted tunes. With their B-team at the helm, the game itself hardly wowed like Canvas Curse a decade earlier, with fans deeming it either simply entertaining or writing it off as a disappointing budget effort.
On the opposite spectrum lies former employer Nintendojo and their perfect score, and while I cannot claim the same opinion, the Kirby connoisseur in me cannot help but come to Rainbow Curse's defense. Yes, it is no Canvas Curse, but it remains a solid title, a thoroughly pleasant little affair impossible not to be charmed by.
I mean, by God, that artstyle! Do I ever wish there was a full behind-the-scenes documentary on the design process -- tantalizing as the conception, clay model shoots and how-to videos/features are, they are hardly enough to sate my thirst -- (bold, too, given that this was HAL Laboratory's first HD game). Set to a dreamy score by Shogo Sakai and series newcomer Megumi Ohara, and it's a game that feels as soft as clay itself.
The use of Green Greens -- a homely theme emblematic of the series' warmth -- as a recurring motif is what sells it, and I can think of no better example than the tutorial accompaniment, an especially lovely remix of harps and recorders echoing the reverie of a dreaming newborn. As soft as Hirokazu Ando's nostalgic arrangement for Kirby's Epic Yarn, the opening harp strings captivate us into an innocent world of clay, goading us alongside the actual tutorial.
I say that in spite of the linear design permeating the game, and that's why I can't really get mad at it. True, we could do with more creativity in hidden paths and whatnot, but that's not what Canvas Curse was about, and it's not like Rainbow Curse doesn't do a good job of hiding collectables and supplementing Challenge Rooms. Balancing your use of Rainbow Ropes -- lest you run out of clay and fall -- is also just as meticulous as utilizing the DS game's paint, and much of Canvas Curse's old tricks in shielding Kirby from lasers and navigating around sawblades return.
Really, this is to say Rainbow Curse isn't afraid to get difficult -- narrow escapes from aerial battleships and touch-of-death skulls all the while juggling your ropes prove for some nasty encounters -- but the game remembers Canvas Curse's template being prime for environmental manipulation was when it was at its most interesting, and that's where you get winners such as guiding metallic spheres as switch-pressers or gate-opening keys (naturally, Kirby himself is subject to experimentation: a late-game level has him split in two, and the ensuing chaos of them bouncing into each other is as trying as it is endlessly entertaining).
Perhaps most controversial is how Kirby possesses no Copy Abilities to absorb and unleash, and relies only on rolling and dashing to plow through. This does lead to some oversights (more on that in a moment), but I also hold no objections to this: again, given this is their first HD project, I imagine this would've overburdened HAL's claymation process, undoubtedly a grueling endeavor. Conversely, Rainbow Curse must rely on level-specific transformations to impress: Missile Kirby is a particular highlight for the high-speed, high-stakes scenarios involved -- I'm particularly fond of how the climaxes involve drawing out escape routes -- all the while Tank and Submarine provide their respective blends of shmup gameplay (the latter using ropes to guide along missiles).
If there is any one true failure of Rainbow Curse, it surely lies within Challenge Mode, and that's where it fails to compensate for the absence of Copy Abilities. Prized in Canvas Curse for its tough-as-nails difficulty and unique, individualized challenges, Rainbow Curse takes a quantity-over-quality approach in supplying 48 variations of the aforementioned Challenge Rooms; needless to say, taking ten-second bonus games and stringing them together into sequential packages grows tiresome fast. They may live up to their name as a challenge, but that they never reach the same levels of creativity renders it a bust.
There
are other quibbles dragging Rainbow Curse down: for example while the controls are generally fine, I could not
for the life of me figure out how to operate the gondola rides. They're
to be shifted via stylus from rope to rope as they amble along,
and yet they just absolutely refuse to register the switch, often
leaving poor Kirby to fall prey to bottomless pits and lava pools.
Meanwhile, the final level is well-designed for what it is, but the
low-key atmosphere (and general weirdness) doesn't accurately convey the
tension of a final level. Perhaps the repeating bosses grow tiresome too, but I don't take much offense to that; after all, Canvas Curse did the same thing.
Make no mistake about it, though: Kirby and the Rainbow Curse's claymation is one heck of an eye-catcher. As appropriately plush as Kirby himself, much of it operates in that jerkily authentic movement one witnesses in the likes of The Nightmare Before Christmas, be it the pulsating flowers decorating the landscape or Carpa fish climbing the underground waterfall. It, too, remembers the most tantalizing Kirby backgrounds aren't just the ones that make us sigh with wonder, but make us go, "how does that work?", hence why we're captivated from the very beginning when those stalk-sprouting houses beg us to take a peek inside.
Truth be told, I somewhat prefer Canvas Curse's fluctuation of abstraction if only it appeals more to the imagination, but I dare any one of you to watch the opening cutscene and tell me it is not a perfect fit for Kirby. Dream Land is as lush and scrumptious as Kirby Super Star and Kirby's Return to Dream Land before it, the adorable antics of Kirby, Waddle Dee and Elline the Paintbrush compelling us to pinch and squeeze everything in sight.
A reaction Rainbow Curse anticipates, hence the presence of figurine galleries and Elline's diary. However, the former's display of craftsmanship and easter eggs find themselves out-shown by the figurine descriptions, which detail the melancholic motivations behind each and every NPC. Yes, as soft and cuddly as Rainbow Curse may seem on the surface, it certainly has room for the broken hopes and dreams of Blados, Dethskullks and Drill Cottas everywhere. Thankfully, Elline's diary balances that gloominess out by ensuring every page will melt you into a puddle of gooey aww's.
And yet for all its successes in art, I can't bring myself to call it Rainbow Curse's glory; nay, again, it is Sakai and Ohara's soundtrack that deserves that honor. I say the following despite being terrible in differentiating musicians, and yet it's amazing how not only this is easily Sakai's finest work for the series since Air Ride, but that there's no evident drop in quality proves Ohara's worth as a Kirby composer.
The Blue Sky Palace world is one such example: Rainbow Across the Skies and The Wild Red Yonder perfectly portray the opposite level spectra of Kirby -- the former, echoing the feel-good, light-hearted innocence defining his world, making what's what's already a pleasant soar more soothing than it has any right to be; the latter trumpeting the grand exploit of Kirby fending off a nefarious clay airship.
The true score highlight, however, lies within the treasure trove of unlockable remixes from across series history. I'm not quite sure what otherwordly force compelled Sakai and Ohara to successfully juggle experimental takes on Kirby's Adventure's Forest Theme and Kirby Super Star's Rest Area, turning Yogurt Yard into even more of an infectious headbopper, and the awe-inspiring nostalgia of Milky Way Wishes, but the euphoric shudders one experiences when hearing the saxophone/guitar solos of Moonlight Capital is enough to claim Rainbow Curse's soundtrack may rival Kirby's Epic Yarn and Kirby's Return to Dream Land as being the finest of Kirby this past decade.
Of course, even if that all didn't exist, the unexpectedly groovy Haunted Ship theme would be enough. Perhaps the most tonally dissonant song in series history, my fascination grew so large I frequently played it at full blast in my college dorm. I regret nothing.
In the end, yes, Kirby and the Rainbow Curse doesn't push the bar as Canvas Curse did for innovative entertainment, but it doesn't have to. In light of its shortcomings, what it does accomplish within the constraints of its ambitions is a success in itself. For a budget title as gentle as this, I couldn't ask for more.
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