At first
glance, it's a simple formula: two teams of six vie for control of
mobile payloads, capture points, and key strategic positions. Each of
its four modes are easy to grasp, serving as the foundation for the
various maps and the powerful heroes colliding within them. That
apparent simplicity is deceiving, though. Overwatch is an amorphous,
shapeshifting organism that mean different things for different players,
depending on which hero you choose, and what role you assume within the
context of your team.
The quality of Overwatch, as a
hero shooter, relies on its fighters. And these 21 heroes, both in terms
of personality and design, compose one of the more distinct and diverse
casts in recent memory. Their dialogue hints at relationships among the
group. Their art design conveys a stark visual vocabulary. Their
abilities set the stage for multidimensional firefights with explosions,
energy shields, and bursts of sonic energy. There's an enticing balance
between mastering one character and trying someone completely new.
Each
of these characters could be the center of their own game. There's the
dwarf engineer Torbjörn and his upgradeable defensive turret. There's
the ape scientist Winston, with both superior intellect and animalistic
rage. Then there's Tracer, the British pilot removed from the rules of
space and time, warping around the battlefield and reversing her actions
to correct mistakes she might have made seconds before.
Like
Tracer, Overwatch functions as a sort of time machine, borrowing
elements from the shooter genre throughout its evolution over the years.
Some of Overwatch's characters display the arena combat of Quake, while
others capture the dynamism of the more modern Titanfall. Overwatch's
cast also includes a more archetypical military-shooter character,
Soldier 76. He serves as a gateway for players more accustomed to Call
of Duty or Battlefield, ushering them into a more nuanced and versatile
overall experience.
These heroes may be the bricks
comprising Overwatch's structure, but the map design is the mortar in
between. Skirmishes play out across 12 locales in a futuristic version
of Earth, from the foundries of industrial Russia to the shrines of
rural Japan. These arenas mix high walkways and low pits, narrow
sightlines with wide avenues. Battles change constantly, choke points
become virtual morgues, and learning to use your character's range,
damage, and special abilities is contingent on what the environments
dictate. Variety in map design is one thing--precision in their layout
is another entirely. And Overwatch is precision incarnate.
What's
impressive isn't Overwatch's ambition--its attempt to bring all these
different factors together under one roof. What's impressive is that it
fits these characters and interactions into an organic being, with
ever-changing scenarios that keep Overwatch fresh through each match. It
helps that you can switch heroes mid-match according to the ebb and
flow of each situation.
There's an enticing balance between mastering one character and trying someone completely new, and watching new layers unravel.
But
even more vital is the ease with which Overwatch teaches you valuable
lessons. Playing becomes a digging process, and as you discover new ways
to use each character on each map, how better to serve your team, and
how to counter your most dangerous opponents, Overwatch's deepest layers
begin to emerge.
Imagine defending the last waypoint in
Japan as the attackers escort their explosive payload to within yards
of victory. Your team is spread around the room, on the upper catwalks
and out in the open, standing in the way and keeping the opponents at
bay. As the explosive expert Junkrat, you're launching grenades into
clumps of enemies. You're laying bear traps to cover the walkway at your
rear. You're disrupting the position of shield characters with the
blast from your remote mines.
But you're also watching
your teammate's back as she snipes with Widowmaker. You're calling out
enemy positions to Pharah as she glides above the fray with her rocket
launcher ablaze. You're coordinating with Zarya, waiting until both of
your ultimate abilities are ready. And as she launches her Graviton
Surge into the room, sucking every enemy into one concentrated mass, you
release your RIP-Tire explosive, steering it into the group and killing
them all, buying your tank characters precious seconds to reverse the
payload as the timer reaches zero and you win the match with bated
breath.
This
is what Overwatch does to your brain. These are the thoughts that race
through your head. These are the scenarios that encourage you to play
the game in such ways. There's even a post-match voting period in which
you congratulate individual efforts, whether it be the amount of
hit-points Mercy healed, the number of warp portals Symmetra erected, or
the percentage of damage Reinhardt blocked with his shield. In these
moments, Overwatch is telling you one important thing: there is no
single way to play.
Unfortunately, it sometimes ignores
this mantra. The end of each match initiates a "Play of the Game"
highlight, which showcases the most impressive moment from the
perspective of the player who performed it. However, unlike the
post-match voting period, the highlight video almost always focuses on
killstreaks. These are flashy--especially when the player shows a clear
mastery of Reaper's close-quarters attacks, or Genji's ninja-star
barrages--but they don't recognize healers or tank characters enough.
It's a minor complaint, and only stands out because the rest of
Overwatch is so accommodating to individual playstyles--but it's jarring
nonetheless.
It's also disappointing how, for every way
Overwatch rewards mastery of your favorite characters, it stumbles with
its randomized loot system. These awards are all aesthetic, to be
clear--a new character skin here, a new celebration stance there--but
too often loot crates contain unwanted items. More importantly, they
delay the process of outfitting your favorite characters, the ones you
use most often, the ones you grow attached to. You can accrue Overwatch
gold to unlock specific items, but like the items themselves, gold is
strewn throughout random loot crates. In this respect, Overwatch uses
gambling to undermine your desire for specific unlocks.
There is a genuine learning process here. There is real value to the time you spend understanding these overlapping systems.
But
in almost every other way, Overwatch encourages a more tangible sort of
progression: that of filling a critical role on your team and
understanding its intricacies the more you play, adapt, and grow. There
is a genuine learning process here. There is real value to the time you
spend understanding these overlapping systems.
It's that
intoxicating path of discovery that makes Overwatch so varied, so
rewarding, and ultimately another seminal release from developer
Blizzard. Overwatch is an intelligent cascade of disparate ideas,
supporting one another, pouring into one another, and coiling around
themselves as they flow into the brilliant shooter underneath.