Conker Live & Reloaded Review (Xbox, Xbox One & Xbox Series X|S)

If there was one game from the early noughties that needed to make a comeback, it was Conker. But, I get it. It’s a little, shall we say, controversial. For a time, it was perfectly ordinary to mesh a sweetcorn-obsessed, opera-flaunting turd with a surfing caveman, as was it normal to parody the likes of Saving Private Ryan and Alien and somehow get away with it. But, times have changed, and it seems that most developers have lost sight of their backbone and, sadly, are suddenly overly cautious of the eggshells that lay the foundation for most modern platforming games. Conker, however, tends to view things a little differently, and if its Live & Reloaded version does anything at all, it proves that its perspective is still as unapologetically rebellious as ever.

It would take a lot of effort to describe Conker, mainly due to the fact that it isn’t an ordinary platforming game, but rather, a turbulent journey through the back corridors of countless franchises and themes. On paper, it shouldn’t work. But, against all odds, it does work, as does it juggle multiple genres simultaneously and still make an impression. Even after twenty years since its original release, Live & Reloaded holds its position as one of the strangest, most bizarre video games on the planet. And if you don’t believe me, then hold onto your fangs and dung, because we’re about to  descend a little deeper into it.

Conker Live & Reloaded follows the titular character—a red, drunken, foul-mouthed squirrel who, after slamming one too many beers at the bar the night before, looks only to find his way home. Hungover, you enter a seemingly jolly world of talking bees, mischievous beetles, and bloodthirsty vampires, and embark on what should be an ordinary journey. One thing leads to another, and before long you acquire a frying pan (or a baseball bat, if we’re talking about the Live & Reloaded version) and soon find yourself on a different path. The Queen Bee wants her hive back; a gargantuan turd wants his sweetcorn fix; a wayward vampire craves blood; a war general wants to enlist you on the frontline; and a sly mobster wants you to execute the greatest heist known to mankind. Nothing makes sense — but that’s sort of the point.

As I said, Conker is an incredibly unusual game, as is it an advocate for controversial subject matter. If, say, you’re not wooing a sunflower and bouncing on its breasts, then you’re talking smack about a primate who stole your cash to enter an underground rave. And if you’re not doing that, then you’re urinating on a fire-breathing creature, or peppering bullets into a horde of teddy bears. The point is, Conker is a little piece of everything. It’s a platforming game at heart, true, but it’s also a caricature of various franchises. The Matrix, Alien, Van Helsing, and Saving Private Ryan, for example, all play a role in this world.

While most of Conker’s journey is rooted within my brain (call it misspent youth, I guess), I have to say that, due to its unpredictable nature, I am still in awe of how much it crams into its brief six-hour campaign. It harbors so much content, in fact, that it makes a lot of modern-day platforming games feel weightless and, well, a little dull. In one moment, you could be peeing on boulders to gain entry to a club, whereas you could also be dodging laser beams and tiptoeing through the trenches of a war-torn beachfront. Elsewhere, you could be battling a dinosaur in a colosseum that looks an awful lot like Gladiator’s depiction, or morphing into a bat to fling baubles of fecal matter at squirrels. Again, the point remains: Conker is an unpredictable experience, as is it one that leans into its role as a rebelliously good jack-of-all-trades.

The gameplay is just as much of a mixed bag as the world itself. If you’re not helicoptering your tail to reach high spaces, then you’re outrunning wasps, engaging in third-person bullet sprees, surfing through pools of lava, or hitting things with a baseball bat. Again, this further proves the original point that Conker is something of a whirlwind of an adventure. A foul-mouthed, laughably irregular adventure, at that.

While I wouldn’t recommend a game like Conker Live & Reloaded to the casual Mario-loving crowd, I will say that it’s a game that any platforming-obsessed fan should take the opportunity to experience, if only once or twice. As there isn’t anything else to compare it to, much less anything that comes close to being able to recreate its quirks and its mischievous charm, it has a hidden gem quality to it. Granted, I wouldn’t bring it to a family gathering, but if it’s a barrel of laughs that you want, then you needn’t look any further than the honeycomb cloisters of Conker’s chaotic world.

Verdict

Conker Live & Reloaded holds its position on the throne as a self-contained jack-of-all-trades, and more importantly, as a game that unapologetically blends an ambitious concept with a cocktail of genres and themes that, frankly, shouldn’t work together. Against the odds, though, it all comes together as a well-oiled platforming game that ironically captures the heart and soul of a stupidly entertaining, albeit dated and mechanically painful experience. The fact that it still feels good to play even after two decades says it all, really.

If, for whatever reason, you’ve been living under a rock since Conker’s initial release, then consider this as an opportunity to unravel its wackiness and enjoy its history as the mischievous cousin of Nintendo’s all-time family-friendly classics. There’s a good chance that you’ll hate it, but if we’re being honest — you’re positively curious about it. Take it all with a grain of salt, though, and you might just come to find that there’s a lot to love about it. For better or worse, you might just learn a little something about opera, too. Don’t ask — just take our word for it.