A Way Out is not
really the hard-hitting, serious, emotional tale of two convicts escaping
prison it appears to be. At times, it successfully strikes those notes, but
extreme tonal shifts, gimmicky QTEs, and a terrible finale kill almost any
emotion or tension contained in the game. In the end, entertaining environments
and some inventive set pieces prove to be its saving grace.
Like director Josef
Fares’ last game, Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, A Way Out contains two
protagonists who experience the game’s story together. Unlike Brothers,
however, you’ll need a friend to play with this time round; A Way Out is only
playable in co-op, either locally or online. Whichever you choose, you’ll
always be playing in a split-screen that dynamically shifts between the
respective views of Leo–a reckless, aggressive gangster cliche–and Vincent–a
more cool-headed family man.
Sometimes the screen
will be split vertically, sometimes horizontally; sometimes evenly, sometimes
unevenly; and sometimes not at all. This framing device is mostly used in
interesting ways, such as giving more screen space to whoever’s performing a
more important action, or splitting the TV in three to also dedicate real
estate to an attacking NPC. However, it can be a source of irritation, such as
when I was talking to a friendly character, only for my partner to trigger a
cutscene and for the screen to shift entirely to his view, ending my
conversation prematurely.
This is a problem
faced outside of cutscenes, too. A Way Out’s small explorable environments
often contain multiple characters to chat with, but if you and your co-op buddy
both engage in different conversations at the same time, the game has no better
answer than to play all the audio in parallel, meaning you struggle to hear
either of the conversations happening in front of you. The problem is
alleviated slightly if you turn subtitles on, as each side of the screen
contains its own set, but the overlapping sound is still distracting.
Such issues do
irritate, but they are more of a footnote than a major strike against A Way
Out’s co-op-only nature. Without a partner in crime, some of the game’s
standout moments wouldn’t feel nearly as impactful. In one early scene, Leo and
Vincent are attempting to hack away at their respective jail cells using a
screwdriver. While your partner stabs the wall behind his toilet, you must keep
watch from your adjacent cell for patrolling guards, occupying them when they
get too close and warning the other player to look natural when your
distraction fails.
This is when A Way Out
is at its best: communicating with (and relying on) your partner both in-game
and in real life makes these moments of tension consistently thrilling. There
are a handful of these set pieces throughout the 7-8 hour campaign that feel
unique and justify the decision of forcing you to play with another person.
The tone veers wildly from a Shawshank-inspired escape tale
to a silly semi-parody of ’70s crime dramas
But while those moments
do carry some tension, it’s because you’re sat next (or talking) to someone you
care about and never because you’re playing as someone you care for. The
protagonists and their motivations are the most generic B-movie
fodder–gangsters with escape and revenge on their minds, but with the hackneyed
added layer of troubled families. To make matters worse, the dialogue is
stilted and unnatural. Conversations often end abruptly (regardless of whether
your partner triggers a cutscene), and entire scenes go by without adding
anything in terms of plot or characterization. Some lines in particular are
cringeworthy–during one sequence in which a couple are interrupted while having
sex, a female extra instructs her male partner to shut the door by saying, “I’m
gettin’ cold in my lady parts.”
The tone veers wildly
from a Shawshank-inspired escape tale to a silly semi-parody of ’70s crime
dramas, complete with overextended sideburns and an assassination across the
border in a villain’s remote Mexican lair. In one scene, A Way Out nails the
feel of punishing prison life, and in another it lets you act like children on
a playground swing. Sometimes those conflicting tones even crop up in parallel.
One poignant late-game moment–where my character learned some surprising and
emotional news on one side of the screen–was ruined by my partner interacting
with a bicycle bell on the other side that caused his character to exclaim,
“Ring ring, motherf***er!”
If it’s not the
dialogue dampening moments of tension, it’s the game’s numerous QTEs. While A
Way Out does use timed button-tapping well in some instances, such as when our
characters must time their pushes up a vent shaft while standing back-to-back,
it also wastes scenes with gimmicky implementations. The final playable section
of the game–the crux of this entire plot and hours of journeying and escaping
and chasing–boils down to mashing Square / X. A Way Out’s third and fourth acts
are by far its weakest: save for one inventive story beat, all creativity is
lost and the game turns into a mediocre action romp with anemic shooting and
little else to do or care about.
Luckily, the rest of
the game (which is much longer than the mercifully contracted finale) contains
more interesting and varied environments. Throughout your journey, you’ll
travel from the prison to a forest, a farm, a cinema, a trailer park, and more,
and each is filled with objects to interact with, puzzles to solve, and people
to talk to. These diverse areas are small but dense, and they add color to what
could otherwise be a monochrome world of good and bad. The trailer park was a
personal favorite, offering a chance to pause and play some baseball or chat to
secondary characters. There’s even a Trophy / Achievement for exposing the
aforementioned couple to the man’s jilted wife. That this captivating space
comes during what should be a time-sensitive moment, when playing baseball or
exposing adulterous men would be the last things on anyone’s mind, says
everything about A Way Out’s story and tone, however.
A Way Out has
problems. By the time the credits rolled, my partner and I didn’t really feel
like we’d been on much of a journey with Leo and Vincent. We’d been on a
geographical tour, sure–one that was often trite, gimmicky, or cringeworthy–but
we didn’t feel the pair had learned anything or grown in any meaningful way. I
did, however, enjoy the journey I’d been on with my friend sat next to me. We
had to look out for each other while escaping prison, work together to solve
puzzles, and save each other’s life on multiple occasions. Our characters might
not have grown closer together, but A Way Out’s forced co-op is worth it for
the few standout moments it provides.
Like director Josef
Fares’ last game, Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, A Way Out contains two
protagonists who experience the game’s story together. Unlike Brothers,
however, you’ll need a friend to play with this time round; A Way Out is only
playable in co-op, either locally or online. Whichever you choose, you’ll
always be playing in a split-screen that dynamically shifts between the
respective views of Leo–a reckless, aggressive gangster cliche–and Vincent–a
more cool-headed family man.
Sometimes the screen
will be split vertically, sometimes horizontally; sometimes evenly, sometimes
unevenly; and sometimes not at all. This framing device is mostly used in
interesting ways, such as giving more screen space to whoever’s performing a
more important action, or splitting the TV in three to also dedicate real
estate to an attacking NPC. However, it can be a source of irritation, such as
when I was talking to a friendly character, only for my partner to trigger a
cutscene and for the screen to shift entirely to his view, ending my
conversation prematurely.
This is a problem
faced outside of cutscenes, too. A Way Out’s small explorable environments
often contain multiple characters to chat with, but if you and your co-op buddy
both engage in different conversations at the same time, the game has no better
answer than to play all the audio in parallel, meaning you struggle to hear
either of the conversations happening in front of you. The problem is
alleviated slightly if you turn subtitles on, as each side of the screen
contains its own set, but the overlapping sound is still distracting.
Such issues do
irritate, but they are more of a footnote than a major strike against A Way
Out’s co-op-only nature. Without a partner in crime, some of the game’s
standout moments wouldn’t feel nearly as impactful. In one early scene, Leo and
Vincent are attempting to hack away at their respective jail cells using a
screwdriver. While your partner stabs the wall behind his toilet, you must keep
watch from your adjacent cell for patrolling guards, occupying them when they
get too close and warning the other player to look natural when your
distraction fails.
This is when A Way Out
is at its best: communicating with (and relying on) your partner both in-game
and in real life makes these moments of tension consistently thrilling. There
are a handful of these set pieces throughout the 7-8 hour campaign that feel
unique and justify the decision of forcing you to play with another person.
The tone veers wildly from a Shawshank-inspired escape tale
to a silly semi-parody of ’70s crime dramas
But while those moments
do carry some tension, it’s because you’re sat next (or talking) to someone you
care about and never because you’re playing as someone you care for. The
protagonists and their motivations are the most generic B-movie
fodder–gangsters with escape and revenge on their minds, but with the hackneyed
added layer of troubled families. To make matters worse, the dialogue is
stilted and unnatural. Conversations often end abruptly (regardless of whether
your partner triggers a cutscene), and entire scenes go by without adding
anything in terms of plot or characterization. Some lines in particular are
cringeworthy–during one sequence in which a couple are interrupted while having
sex, a female extra instructs her male partner to shut the door by saying, “I’m
gettin’ cold in my lady parts.”
The tone veers wildly
from a Shawshank-inspired escape tale to a silly semi-parody of ’70s crime
dramas, complete with overextended sideburns and an assassination across the
border in a villain’s remote Mexican lair. In one scene, A Way Out nails the
feel of punishing prison life, and in another it lets you act like children on
a playground swing. Sometimes those conflicting tones even crop up in parallel.
One poignant late-game moment–where my character learned some surprising and
emotional news on one side of the screen–was ruined by my partner interacting
with a bicycle bell on the other side that caused his character to exclaim,
“Ring ring, motherf***er!”
If it’s not the
dialogue dampening moments of tension, it’s the game’s numerous QTEs. While A
Way Out does use timed button-tapping well in some instances, such as when our
characters must time their pushes up a vent shaft while standing back-to-back,
it also wastes scenes with gimmicky implementations. The final playable section
of the game–the crux of this entire plot and hours of journeying and escaping
and chasing–boils down to mashing Square / X. A Way Out’s third and fourth acts
are by far its weakest: save for one inventive story beat, all creativity is
lost and the game turns into a mediocre action romp with anemic shooting and
little else to do or care about.
Luckily, the rest of
the game (which is much longer than the mercifully contracted finale) contains
more interesting and varied environments. Throughout your journey, you’ll
travel from the prison to a forest, a farm, a cinema, a trailer park, and more,
and each is filled with objects to interact with, puzzles to solve, and people
to talk to. These diverse areas are small but dense, and they add color to what
could otherwise be a monochrome world of good and bad. The trailer park was a
personal favorite, offering a chance to pause and play some baseball or chat to
secondary characters. There’s even a Trophy / Achievement for exposing the
aforementioned couple to the man’s jilted wife. That this captivating space
comes during what should be a time-sensitive moment, when playing baseball or
exposing adulterous men would be the last things on anyone’s mind, says
everything about A Way Out’s story and tone, however.
A Way Out has
problems. By the time the credits rolled, my partner and I didn’t really feel
like we’d been on much of a journey with Leo and Vincent. We’d been on a
geographical tour, sure–one that was often trite, gimmicky, or cringeworthy–but
we didn’t feel the pair had learned anything or grown in any meaningful way. I
did, however, enjoy the journey I’d been on with my friend sat next to me. We
had to look out for each other while escaping prison, work together to solve
puzzles, and save each other’s life on multiple occasions. Our characters might
not have grown closer together, but A Way Out’s forced co-op is worth it for
the few standout moments it provides.
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