must be tough at Sony. It appears that they can’t even afford to
feed their game characters. Poor Edmund, he looks positively
skeletal – and he’s royalty!
Yes, of course, he’s all skeletonny because nasty old bony britches
Morgrimm clomped along and pinched his shiny-shiny red family
heirloom stone thingy, and subsequently turned him into Deadmund. We
know this due to one of several remarkably long story interludes.
Have we time to argue that if we wanted to just watch a prolonged
story with no input-giving then we’d chuck on a movie instead? That
when we sit down (or stand) to play a game we want to interact? No,
we probably haven’t, so as was asked in Mønti Pythøn ik den Høli
Gräilen by none higher up than God himself, we’ll get on with
The game? It’s basically an on-rails slasher, with occasional puzzle
and minigame outbreaks. From the developers of the rather good
Sports Champions, those
titular medieval moves are basically grabs from that previous
success. As such you can reach behind you and grab an arrow to
fwa-toong into helpless foes (or barrels that look at you the wrong
way). Throwing stars pop up (think Frisbee), as do grappling hook
doohickeys. Meanwhile, swordplay’s good, lag-free and rewarding to
those who go the gusto-infused slash. That’s when not juggling a
shield – unless you’re a hoity-toity cashed-up type and have two
Move wandy doobries. La-de-da!
Medieval Moves’ main problem is pacing – or lack thereof. We
realise it’s aimed at a casual audience, but the complete inability
to roam and the interminable pauses between battles make dull seem
positively glow-sticky in comparison. Our kid cupboard was empty for
this review, but we reckon they’d be bored quicker than you can say
Multiplayer helps a bit, but ultimately playability-wise the moves
here are more prehistoric than medieval.