There’s nothing worse than a game that doesn’t let you jump. I don’t get it. Are you hiding all those game design secrets, that messy web of behind-the-scenes overlapping textures, just over a small hurdle that our protagonist couldn’t possibly clear? Or perhaps it’s a button mapping thing, where you have too many vitally important inputs that none of the four face buttons, two shoulder buttons, or two triggers could possibly be switched to make the little guy on the screen leap into the air.
Whatever the reason, game designers make a choice when they don’t allow you to jump. Whether it’s because they don’t want to factor in aerial attacks, because they’re too worried about clipping through walls, or for their own reasons that have nothing to do with what I’ve just listed, some games don’t let you jump. These games make me sad.
I’m a movement guy. Ever since I played
Titanfall 2
, I’ve looked everywhere for more of that sweet, sweet momentum-based action. There’s a reason I’ve put a thousand hours into
Apex Legends
, and that reason rhymes with Blightenball. Now I’m not saying
Dark Souls
needs wallrunning (although…), but a little jump could make its finicky platforming sections a little less frustrating.
Jumps aren’t just about movement, however. A good jump can make a world feel far more alive. You can hide collectibles on bus stops or little ledges, you can tease players with out-of-reach items until they gain full use of their hamstrings, you can give your world a boost of verticality that grounded games never see. A jump can reveal new secrets, can be used to avoid enemy encounters, or can close ground quickly when chasing a fleeing foe. A jump is tactical, a key tool in an RPG protagonist’s arsenal, a tool for movement, exploration, and combat rolled into one.
Yakuza: Like a Dragon
is the latest game to glue my feet to the virtual floor. It’s by no means the worst offender, nor is it the latest game to commit these gravitational crimes, but it’s the most recent game I’ve played, and it annoyed me again.
Exploring Yokohama is a delight. I’ve already professed my love for the city in articles before, but diving headfirst into the world for Like a Dragon week has brought me nothing but pleasure. I especially love it when a quest takes you down a side alley, leads you up some stairs, to fight a crew of ruffians in a courtyard you never knew existed, despite the fact you’ve walked past it a hundred times on your adventures to find lost cats or get your chops round the latest restaurant delicacy. Despite this, I can’t help but feel it would all be improved if I could jump around a bit.
Yakuza: Like a Dragon commits the worst crime of all: it lets you hurdle, but not jump. Run straight at a knee-height fence, and you’ll mantle it easy enough. It’s basically a jump, except you have no control over how and where you do it. If you come at the fence at just the wrong angle, you’ll run straight into it. A dodgy mantling mechanic is worse than no jumping at all.
Wandering the streets of Yokohama is great, but I want to have some fun with my movement. There’s always that one party member in an MMO who rolls everywhere instead of walking, and I want to be jumping from A-to-B rather than running. I want to be able to jump up to the next floor, to see the city from a level higher.
We know Ichiban can jump. He leaps five feet in the air to deliver the devastating final blow in his Tag Team move, Essence of Mayhem. So why can’t he jump outside of battle?
I understand that I’ve blown this problem way out of the water, and probably unfairly picked on Yakuza: Like a Dragon because of the fact it’s the game I’ve played most recently. I understand that jumping isn’t really that big of a deal. But I also understand that I get so incredibly frustrated when I load up a new game for the first time and my feet are rooted firmly to the ground. I’ve heard a lot of discourse around
Dragon’s Dogma 2
already, but there’s only one metric I’ll be judging it by when I get around to it next.
