Rad

There is a disconnect between Rad’s appealing world and character design, art direction and writing, and its frustratingly difficult gameplay. The world is fun to be in, with no lack of clever, imaginative touches but its combat can turn the experience sour. Gamers with grit and patience will discover a lot of layers, secrets and maybe even a little unexpected pathos but many will be turned away by the early game’s barriers.

It’s the kind of game that, if players are willing to look past its rougher edges, can provide hours of entertainment, and give them an experience both familiar and entirely off the beaten path.

Really, the only thing that RAD is missing is Richard Simmons. As a game, there's a bit of a misfire in that the one area where RAD looks to distinguish itself from its peers actually hurts more than it helps, but the core action remains sound, and the nostalgia trip back to my childhood was like a precious gift. I question just how many 30-somethings are out there looking for a new time-draining roguelike to play, but regardless of just how niche RAD's audience turns out to be, I'm very glad that Double Fine gave it a crack.

It isn’t bad but we’re sad that there’s not more to it. Mutations are pretty gnarly and this VHS vision is pleasingly neon but unfortunately there’s little to this roguelike beyond its ’80s infatuation. [Issue#166, p.90]

It's just that the joys of Rad require more work than necessary to obtain, and that work can feel awfully thankless at times. Double Fine's hyper-colorful take on an '80s synthpop apocalypse makes for some gratifying nostalgia at the best of times, but there's a reason why, eventually, we all moved on to grunge.