God of War Ragnarök feels trapped between great design and blockbuster movies


I bought my first PlayStation 4 in 2019, It was the first Big Console I’d had since the days of the slim PlayStation 2, and it came with God of War (2018), a new game from a series I wasn’t too familiar with. I was excited to play something new, so I turned it on. My life is a big part of my God of War experience — something that didn’t click until later — was the one-off novelty of playing a big blockbuster on a “new” console. It was fine. It was okay. Sitting down to write this, I realize now that the finer points of the story were almost forgettable, which is kind of what happens when you follow the game-as-a-prestige-movie story path that seems to color a lot of the AAA landscape.

In 2022 God of War Ragnarök It has improved upon that recipe, drawing inspiration from the spectacle and success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It is, in essence, the most non-Marvel Marvel story I’ve seen in a game, from the eminently recognizable story beats — heroes face difficult dilemmas, friends become enemies and vice versa, boy meets girl, beloved characters die, and so on — to its practiced use of comedy and tragedy (the two classical storytelling genders) to push the player’s buttons.

As its predecessors, Ragnarök This is the distillation and execution of an all-man power fantasy. In which you can execute powerful and badass acts to vengeance against your enemies while still maintaining the moral highground; after all, you are a struggling parent who has a lot of hangups. While the writing does a better job of establishing the characters’ places in the world, the experience is still unevenly paced. I feel like I could binge watch Disney Plus every week.

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

Kratos and Atreus start off in Midgard, quietly reeling from the giants’ prophecy that warned of impending apocalypse and Kratos’ death. Since Baldur died, all nine realms have been thrust into Fimbulwinter — a precursor to Ragnarök — which is sort of analogous to drastic, world-ending climate change.

Kratos, who has the same weary disposition as the Ben Affleck Smoking meme, is still learning how to be a father. Atreus is puberty incarnate, Mimir is still a head, and Freya — well, she’s still around, and she’s still mad about Kratos killing her son. It turns out that Atreus has been quietly researching giant lore without Kratos’ knowledge, and poking his nose into what happened to Tyr, the Norse god of war. Things kick off after an unannounced visit from Thor and his father, Odin, and Kratos reluctantly, cautiously agrees to follow his son’s quest.

As in the previous game Ragnarök builds itself around a central hub — a cozy treehouse where Kratos, Atreus, and Mimir make their home base. The game’s gameplay is the same: They explore new realms, navigate through hostile locales, and solve occasional puzzles. Kratos has both his signature weapons, along with new toys that pop up along the way (one appears after the midway point, in one of the game’s many pacing issues), like a helpful amulet that gives you a variety of build options; Atreus has his own skill tree, along with largely cosmetic armor and limited bow upgrades. You’ll find all the hallmarks of AAA game design, including minibosses, treasure chests, and a Herculean grind for getting through locked gates. Kratos still doesn’t have a dedicated jump button, but that’s fine — he’s a big boy.

Atreus, Brok, Mimir, Tyr, and Kratos sit around a square wooden table, eating stew out of bowls, in God of War Ragnarök

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

The universal core Ragnarök This is, of course the bond between Kratos, Atreus. It speaks to emotionally frustrated children and parents, and it is, for the most part appropriately, frustrating to watch them grow up. The first third of the game can be grating if you’re not a fan of claustrophobic bickering and puberty-driven tantrums — I’m not talking about a taut, bristling sense of dramatic tension, but a lot of whining and grunting. However, this creates an immediate relief when Kratos and Atreus break up to do their thing. Atreus finally becomes his own person on his detours into other realms. He finally meets other kids his age and embraces who he is. The game, for the most part, does a good job of letting Kratos’ horrendously repressed emotions bubble to the surface. It also works well at distancing a very codependent familial relationship over time, which I can relate as if I were a child of one parent.

Further into the story it becomes evident that the writers drank deeply out of the well. The Great Sopranos Renaissance during the pandemic. There are all too familiar echoes of a man who is being re-elected into his old role, a moody scion who makes reckless choices, ritualistic sit downs and mob negotiations which trigger inevitable conflict, as well as the overwhelming need for everyone in the family to go to therapy. In ancient mythology, mob drama isn’t too far off from how gods behaved — unbridled pettiness, strict adherence to duty, maudlin displays of spite, and plenty of disguises and scams. Family is at the core of all this. Odin is a cross between Woody Allen and a neurotic Guy Ritchie mob boss, which I’m sure will appeal to some folks, but after 35 hours, I’m not one of them. It’s true that God of War’s characters (mostly Brok and Sindri) already established this anachronistic “what if ancient beings followed modern stereotypes” style, but Ragnarök This approach is grabbed by the neck, and dialed up until 11. The result is more an assault than an accentuation.

Like all art and entertainment, games reflect the cultural contexts and trends surrounding their development, and when there’s big money involved, it means, more often than not, following a path that has already proved effective for the bottom line. Other than the Sopranos-like undercurrents, Ragnarök Channels toned-down antiheroic characteristics of The Boys, spatters in aspirational Tarantino dialogue frat pack era of filmmaking — the latter is evident in the character of Freyr, who, besides being a huge stoner, fails to show the blistering X-factor appeal that supposedly draws elves, dwarves, men, women, children, and stray dogs into his orbit. While some may delight at the banter when Thor shows up at Kratos’ house, it can feel a bit like eating reheated leftovers, albeit well-voiced ones. This isn’t a complaint about derivative media; all our stories are derivative. But how you do it matters — and when storytellers are generally too keen on remixing the hits without adding anything new, it means you have to work twice as hard to pull off a banger that still feels fresh and invigorating.

Angrboda, a Black teenage girl wearing overalls with her hair in dreadlocks, stands behind Atreus, a white teenage boy in gold and blue armor, looking at him in God of War Ragnarök

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

Watching Odin godboss, gaslight, and gatekeep his way to Atreus’ heart is pleasantly sadistic revenge for the squabbles that came before. It is fleetingly comical to see the hypochondriac Sindri get sneezed on, and the game leans hard into the dysfunctional family dinner trope, where a humble dining table becomes the focal point for the story’s big “what now?” moments. On the other hand, characterizing Thor’s drinking like a modern-day affliction feels incredibly forced; it is simply a weird choice to bring contemporary concepts of accountability and Alcoholics Anonymous vibes to a mythological world of gods. Odin’s obsession with his own fate, too, feels poorly thought out. You can’t just shoehorn modern sensibilities into Valhalla — even with the goal of making the gods relatable and “human” — and expect all of it to fit well. “It’s me, your entire economy, speaking,” Odin yells at the dwarves, in another overwritten callback to his mob boss characterization.

Despite its painful self-awareness regarding script structures, Ragnarök’s pacing is, at best, inconsistent. There’s a lot of filler and circular rambling — mostly on Atreus’ part — about what needs to be done to either avert or trigger Ragnarök. Atreus is full of endless questions that can make parents gray hairs. It works! The characters are anxious. The constant hemming-and-hawing can get tiresome, and in some cases, it can undercut the urgency or direness of the situation. NPCs will often remind you to take a break and do other things before you continue the main quest. But when the stakes are literally the end of the world and it’s already established that Odin has more eyes on you than a Ring doorbell, it doesn’t exactly make you want to run around and take in the scenery.

Perhaps the problem is in the frustrations of Ragnarök’s architecture as an “open-style” but non-open-world game. As in God of WarThe main quest is basically a series of tunnels that push you towards an inevitable end. Many of these sections feel endless, much like the first parts of Vanaheim or Svartalfheim. What’s more, some realms feel like assignments rather than exciting new places — NPCs shouldn’t have to explicitly tell me to be thrilled about exploring a locale. For such an enormous world that clearly prides itself on its scale and wonder, there are times when my adventure felt like an amusement park ride (there’s a flume-boat section that looks and feels just like Big Thunder Mountain Railroad) where I just wanted to careen off the rails. Some of the mechanics, like Atreus’ chain-reaction Sigil arrows, feel like they belong in a different, more creatively permissive game that lets you actually experiment with the environments. Ragnarök While hints at deeper interlocking system are constant, they fail to be followed through.

Even so, Alfheim is by far the most captivating realm, possibly because there’s just so much to do, and also because the Temple of Light seems visually inspired by Singapore’s Gardens by the Bay (upon seeing the non-hive-encrusted Lake of Souls, I immediately thought of this local landmark). The temple is one of my favorite environments, next to the earthy reds and ochres of Jotunheim’s flora (and how it plays with size and scale), which had me peeking around corners for Elden Ring’s Malenia. Asgard, though, remains a wasted cipher — there isn’t much room to explore, even though a huge part of Atreus’ story arc involves going there to do just that.

The squirrel-like Ratatoskr climbs on Kratos’ shoulders in God of War Ragnarök

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

That being said, most of the side quests (known as Favors) are a lot more compelling than the main storyline, like Freya’s very personal mission to get closure from her forced marriage to Odin. I’ve always maintained that the real heart and soul of a game world can be found in side quests, if it has them, and Ragnarök is no different; there’s an especially engaging slow burn in the Vanaheim Crater area, where you get thrown a few crumbs about Kratos’ enigmatic late wife Laufey and her past. A fair amount of Favors involve cleaning up messes — again, back to the theme of accountability and making things right, or trying to leave something better than it was before.

This is a welcome departure from God of War, Ragnarök Also, you can experience different combinations and characters working together, but only for a short time. Atreus has extremely strong synergies with a new character who I won’t spoil here. Atreus becomes a stronger, marginally more wiser man when he reunites with his father. It almost feels unfair that he is relegated back to a sidekick position. But such is the power of the parental gaze — it makes sense to have Atreus inhibit himself around his father until dire circumstances call for dire actions. The big emotional gut punches in the story, when they do happen, do hurt (to be fair, I’m also someone who cries at cable television). The very last act of the game, where everything comes together and ties back to Kratos’ past and status as a god, felt like a bittersweet triumph for both father and son, and almost made up for all the times I wanted to knock their skulls together.

Despite all its flaws there are moments of beauty. Ragnarök That is the rule. Mechanically speaking, the Aesir boss fights are all pretty much the same iterations of dodge, dip, duck, dive, and dodge — nothing to write home about, and more of a test of endurance and evasion than anything. One boss fight against Nidhogg captured my heart. It’s metal as hell: a full technicolor blast of adrenaline and visual flourish and great monster design that I would replay in a heartbeat. There are also other versions. Ragnarök’s credit, a lot of very good dogs, and very purposefully weaponized uses of them.

Atreus looks up at the towering World Serpent, Jörmungandr, while Sindri cowers behind him in God of War Ragnarök

Image: SIE Santa Monica/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

After watching for many hours Ragnarök’s characters struggle through a quasi-comical escalation of events — the kind of domino effect shitshow where one thing inadvertently sets off a chain reaction of mini-shitshows that nobody wanted to happen — it’s great to forget about fate and decorum, and simply feel content with the knowledge that everyone in this big, messy not-Marvel, not-Sopranos Production experienced some promising character growth.

It is not life-changing. Ragnarök It’s over, but it gives me the same pleasure as watching a Marvel movie on autopilot. Even where the game can be frustrating, rote, and uneven, it’s also safe and comforting, like a rerun of Cheers where everyone knows your name and you know that you’ll never get thrown out of the bar. God of War Ragnarök, as the sum of its many disparate and often conflicting parts and influences, isn’t here to reinvent the wheel. Its single-minded desire for Hollywood’s epic narratives will remain its greatest weakness and its lasting source of success. And like many, many Hollywood success stories, it shouldn’t feel this weird to say that something of this scope and scale is just OK.

God of War Ragnarök On Nov. 9, the game will be available for download on PlayStation 5 or PlayStation 4. The game was tested on PS5 with a prerelease download code from Sony Interactive Entertainment. Vox Media has an affiliate partnership. These partnerships do not affect editorial content. Vox Media may be compensated for products purchased through affiliate links. Find out more. additional information about Polygon’s ethics policy here.



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