Strong Crab Review (PC)

Baby Steps touched a nerve that I didn’t know about, as did Getting Over It and I Am Fish, weirdly. But, to my honest surprise, Strong Crab didn’t infuriate me; it wounded me, and it made me discover a newfound hatred of crustaceans, though it never once made me want to tear the hair from the tip of my scalp. Don’t get me wrong, it still had those rage-like infusions and relentlessly painful platforming elements, but, thanks to its rather generous checkpoint system and minor hand-holding techniques, it never forced me to depart and seek shelter on an alternate shoreline.

Strong Crab, at least at its core, is a love letter to the true story behind Frank—a blogger who once saved an ill-fated crab, apparently—and the journeys one crab would naturally take to receive the same remedial love and care from the all-father of crustaceans. It’s a simple premise, and it doesn’t do much to pique your interest during its relatively short lifespan I’ll admit. But, it is a tale that we both adore and resonate with—the underdog shepherd and the quest for a dream to become a reality. It’s certainly comical and lacking in intricate plot points, but whatever — it’s a game about a one-legged crab. I’m not about to dock points for its lack of creativity.

The game itself plays out in a similar fashion as your traditional rage-obsessed platforming game, with the player having to mindlessly navigate a series of gaps and platforms, slippery slopes and rocky formations. The catch here, however, is that said player must use just the one leg to tackle said obstacles. And yes, that leg is about as cooperative as one might imagine. But as I said — checkpoints. Oh, thank the heavens for checkpoints. Take notes, Bennett.

Holding Out for a Hero

If you’re familiar with the likes of I Am Fish or, heck, just about any rage game that has been released in the last, I don’t know, twenty years or so, then you ought to understand the gist of the rules. Simply put, a goal—a seemingly impossible feat, usually—hovers in the faraway distance, and you, the poor protagonist with one too many imperfections, are given the colossal task of finding a way to reach that elusive destination. And of course, with all of that comes a caveat: the protagonist in question has some form of problem that prevents them from tackling obstacles in a competent manner. Here, it’s a legless affair; the crab has but one leg remaining. You do the math.

Strong Crab isn’t exactly a fun game, though it is one that has plenty of a-ha moments and minor victories that make you feel oddly satisfied even when, to be honest, you probably shouldn’t. It’s the sort of game that you take a stab at on a complete whim, and then spend a little bit of time with before finally coming to the conclusion that you aren’t enjoying it, but are still determined to beat it, if only to inflate your ego ever so slightly. Is it worth the hassle? Eh, is any rage game? Not really, no. But that’s besides the point, I think. Like most rage games, you don’t usually play them for the plot or the finale; you endure them just so you can finally turn around at the final hurdle and say, “I did it,” before taking a long, brisk walk into the sunset whilst the steam pulsates from your forehead.

One-Legged Love Letter to Rage

As I mentioned earlier, Strong Crab isn’t the toughest of rage games on the chopping block. Don’t get me wrong, it has its curveballs—slippery surfaces, being the brunt of said curveballs, naturally—but for the most part I’d say that Strong Crab isn’t a taxing game by any stretch. It isn’t taxing, mainly due to the fact that it makes it so that hopping, bouncing, and jackknifing are all fairly easy maneuvers to execute — even with the one leg, surprisingly. It’s still a bit of a headache even during the simplest of situations, though, when stacked against some of its kin, it’s about as harmless as a velvet octopus with severed tentacles.

Strong Crab isn’t in receipt of anything particularly extraordinary in its audiovisual department. Again, it’s a simple game that settles for simple nautical and woodland things—log stacks, stepping stones, fungi, and rocks, for example. Yet, even with a lack of detail and eye-capturing components, Strong Crab does at least manage to own its stripes surprisingly well, with its general composition and primal design pairing nicely with its simple-to-navigate mechanics. It isn’t the least bit impressive, though, to be clear, it does get the job done, which is a lot more than what other rage games can flounder in this day and age.

It’s a relatively short game all in all, and so, if you are hunkering for a meaty campaign with several biomes and activities to explore, then you’ll probably be in for a bit of a shock with just how little Strong Crab brings to the table. That said, for the short amount of time that it sticks around, it does make a commendable effort to keep your fingers twiddling and your mind moving. Maybe that’s enough? Maybe it isn’t?

Verdict

Strong Crab isn’t completely legless as far as comical rage games go, nor is it without its hereditary benefits and annoyingly impulsive curveballs, for that matter. But, to call Strong Crab a truly incredible video game just wouldn’t feel right. Heck, I doubt I could name a single rage game that has that moniker and wears it with pride. But that isn’t why we choose to plug into these worlds; it’s because we, rather strangely, enjoy testing ourselves and pushing our patience to the point of exhaustion. Strong Crab, on the other hand, makes a habit of letting you breathe between beatings — and that counts for a lot, to be fair.

It’s a short game all in all, so I wouldn’t expect much from it if I were you. If, however, you’re all for the idea of pursuing that mystical god-like human called Frank as a one-legged crab with balance issues, then you ought to get a laugh (and a kick) out of Strong Crab for an hour or so whilst you wait idly by for that next rage game to prematurely introduce itself to your therapist.