Garfield – Escape from Monday Review (Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation 5 & PC)

Garfield’s undying love of meat-laced Italian cuisine is so infectious that I myself went out to pick up lasagne sheets and a packet of mince meat not an hour before Escape from Monday launched. I figured, if I could channel the cat, or at the very least put myself in a position that would allow me to further understand a questionable obsession with lasagne, then I could, in theory, appreciate the heartiness of a platforming game that layers its entire premise on a simple recipe of meat and cheese, off-the-paw jokes and veggie-laced platforming tropes. Sadly, though, the store-bought lasagne was more satisfying than the tabby’s infatuation with mediocre fillings.

Generally speaking, Garfield – Escape from Monday doesn’t do anything that would upset the sous chefs. Although, it doesn’t do anything particularly special to tickle the tastebuds, either. Of course, if it released a little over twenty years ago alongside the likes of The Grinch, Bubsy, or Ape Escape, then it would have gone down as a real treat. But, in the current timeline of modern-day platforming, it leaves a considerable amount to be desired; the controls are sluggish, the humor is painfully dry, and sure enough, the level design is about as predictable as a meat-free lasagne.

Speaking of meat-free lasagne, Escape from Monday is a wafer thin game that more or less puts its money where its mouth is, and its hopes and dreams into the same basic tropes that make up a Garfield flick. Yes, there is lasagne, and yes, there is a lazy ginger cat who simply cannot be bothered with anyone or anything. Thus, we have Escape from Monday, a platforming experience that, true to the spirit of the franchise, pours its heart and soul into baking a simple comfort meal that practically wreaks of old-school cliches.

It goes like this: Garfield has, without even noticing it, consumed a veggie-filled lasagne and, as a result, has entered a foodie nightmare—a hellhole in which the usual meats and cheeses cease to exist, and every crag and crevice is immensely rich in fiber, grains, as well as nutritious ingredients that would naturally prolong the life of a pessimistic house cat. But of course, Garfield doesn’t want a strict diet; he wants lasagne, and he craves the thought of being able to wake up from this ungodly nightmare. We’re not supposed to care about any of this — but Garfield, on the other hand, sees it as the end of the world.

As I said, Escape from Monday isn’t a bad game. If anything, it’s a passable platforming experience that leans into its PSX infusions incredibly well. But, that’s partly the problem. See, platforming games, like a store-bought lasagne, are a bit of an acquired taste, as are old-fashioned platforming games that choose to regurgitate iffy mechanics, eye-rolling dialogue, and annoyingly familiar biomes that lack the usual protein to satisfy a burning appetite. Plainly speaking, it’s just a little mediocre. While still enjoyable to waffle down in short bursts, it simply lacks the multi-flavored layers of an unpredictable dish.

The mechanics here aren’t all that complex, either. In a similar vein as most budget-friendly platforming titles, Escape from Monday gives you the ability to jump, kick, and propel yourself across various worlds and foodie-inspired obstacles. Sure enough, you can obtain collectibles along the way, bulk out an empty space with various pieces of furniture, and dabble in the fine art of aviation with a turkey costume strapped to your ginger fur, naturally. But for the most part, Escape from Monday presents itself as a simple game with gameplay elements that are as equally, well, to the letter.

If you’re not hunkering down for a slice of lasagne to help you flesh out a meta game involving a make-believe portrayal of a sickeningly vibrant home, then you’re either surfing across bodies of water, lassoing your way across horseshoe trails, gliding over ravines, or moaning about each and every detail that bulks out the story. And that’s a Garfield thing — complaining about the world, as well as poking fun at the people who had a stake in the creation of the nightmare, as well as the friends who genuinely want to help. It’s irritating, but hey, that’s Garfield. A lack of lasagne leads to a pessimistic outlook, apparently. I get it, though.

While there are some creative moments in Escape from Monday, the simple fact is that there just isn’t enough meat here to satisfy your cravings. Even with a supersized campaign and a vast array of costumes and obstacles for you to fumble through, the game never really emerges as a memorable experience. At first, it does enough to curb your boredom and give you a good chuckle. As the forty-something levels gradually shed their weight, however, it becomes a bit of a slog. Garfield becomes a tedious companion, and the world eventually loses its charm. By the time I pulled the final slice from the plate, I didn’t want to take another bite. Really, I just wanted to wake up.

Let it be said that, if you do have a soft spot for time-hopping love letters to PSX-inspired platformers (Glover springs to mind here), then you’ll more than likely find a good wedge of content to waffle down in this veggie layer cake. Don’t expect a brilliant recipe, though, as Garfield is nothing if not predictable.

Verdict

Garfield – Escape from Monday folds into old habits as a fourth wall-breaking platforming adventure that blends familiar themes and mechanics with a meaty, albeit far from filling PSX-inspired fantasy world. As a tribute to old-school platforming sagas, it serves its purpose as a to-the-point, stomach-lining experience with slim but nostalgically satisfying ingredients. Broadly speaking, it still makes for a rather average game that is severely lacking in original content and creative ideas. While Garfield is clearly a fan favorite, there truly is only so much that you can take before the endless pessimism, eye-rolling jabs and boring platforming segments begin to grate like blue cheese. It could be that I’m just nitpicking, or that I’m just sick of lasagne.