The Cub Review (PS5, PS4, Xbox Series X/S, Xbox One, Switch & PC)

So, a brief walk down memory lane. Developer Demagog Studio has dabbled in gloomy but atmospheric tales for a while now. Their first rendition, Golf Club: Wasteland (2021), renamed Golf Club Nostalgia, had the rich fleeing an apocalypse to Mars. Some years later, a few Martians venture back to desolate Earth for one last round of casual golf—no, really. Thereafter, Demagog’s second entry, Highwater (2022), trudged a similar story arc. Rumors about the rich escaping a flooded post-apocalyptic world abound. You and your pals, afraid of being left behind, make a harrowing journey to the last rocket ship destined for Mars. You spend your last days navigating by boat across varied, picturesque islands and battling foes. 

Now, barely weeks into 2024, Demagog Studio has released a third sequel called The Cub, set in the melancholic and atmospheric post-apocalyptic world of Golf Club Nostalgia and Highwater. While you don’t have to play the previous two to put The Cub’s puzzle pieces together, it’s highly advised to do so. Especially since, as consecutive entries have taught us, much of the mechanics and gameplay of the previous entries, including parts of the story elements, make their way over to the sequel. In any case, whether newbie or veteran, you’re likely wondering if The Cub is at all well worth the time and money. Just how good of a job does Demagog do in their newest sequel? Should you play The Cub as a first-timer or not? Well, stick around till the end of our deep-dive The Cub review to find out. 

Armageddon, Take Three

You have to admire Demagog’s efforts in switching things up each run. From casual golf across a desolate but charming wasteland to intense exploration of a post-apocalyptic urban world. Now, they seem to have mashed the two together, although unconventionally, to bring about a Jungle Book-inspired platformer injecting nostalgia through our veins each turn. Let’s circle back, though and start from the top. See, humans seem to have finally rendered Earth uninhabitable. An unnamed ecological disaster has sprung up, which I can only assume to have festered from global warming. Anyone left behind has been left for dead, what with the air becoming unbreathable. Well, everyone except for a charming little boy adopted and raised by wolves. 

Some years later, Mowgli, sorry, ‘The Cub,’ aptly named, I might add, rises from the mutated vegetation of a new world and paces around, exploring what’s left of Earth. The Cub is a platformer through and through, so you’ll spend huge chunks of your time moving from left to right, and sometimes the opposite, jumping over obstacles and sliding beneath overgrowth. You can push certain objects to clear a path and, later, unlock a dash that lets you break through windows. You can swing from vine to vine and jump from mine cart to mine cart, Donkey Kong-style. A section of the game has you climbing an upside-down train while a mutated creature chases you hot on your tail. 

Scramble for Survival

In more ways than one, The Cub is a scramble for survival. Mutated beasts are craving to make you their dinner. Meanwhile, a few Martians have descended from space to play casual golf (on account of Golf Club Nostalgia). But they also embark on a new expedition to research Earth’s survivability. When they spot The Cub jumping around, alive and well, they start to hunt him down. Armed with darts and fish nets, they want to capture him and bring him back to Mars to investigate how he breathes without a hazmat suit, presumably. So, you quickly adapt parkour-style platforming, running and jumping to escape the Martians’ sleepy darts and nets. 

Parts of the game incorporate stealthy platforming. You often hide from the Martians and wait it out until they leave. Alternatively, you can crouch under objects, crawling in crevices and tents to safety. But the stealth is a shallow implementation that’s nothing new from what you may have seen. However, it does switch up the gameplay a bit, which is still something to appreciate.

Change is Good

Another thing The Cub does to switch up gameplay is Radio Nostalgia, which you might remember from Golf Club Nostalgia. You’ll soon pick up a helmet, which, once you put it on, acts as a radio transmitter from Mars. The rest of the way, you’ll be listening to social commentary and music. From time to time, you’ll be privy to Martian gossip, often about how they’ve spotted a feral human alive and well, but also about Martian life. It helps to humanize the Martian recon team hunting you down. A nice touch as well is when guests on the radio show reminisce about their past lives on Earth. It’s the perfect storytelling supplement that syncs perfectly with your expeditions exploring the aftermath of the apocalypse. You run into remnants like skyscrapers from a civilization long gone, and the radio talks help to piece those puzzles together.

Besides, you’ll also be picking up collectibles that cast a longing shadow back to a life long forgotten. Newspaper clippings tell a tragic tale, unwinding clues about the events leading up to the apocalypse. You’ll cruise across tower blocks, horrific battlefields, abandoned genetics labs, and depleted mines, all telling an individual story that subtly pokes at the societal and geological issues we’re facing today. I say ‘subtly’ because global warming and cybercrime, to name a few, are, in fact, dire issues we struggle with. However, The Cub doesn’t quite explore them at the level of seriousness you might expect. Instead, you often run into humorous references, like CEO Jeff Bozos and Goopgle, all subtly implied but never in ways that really provoke the mind.

So, So Good

Never mind. It’s fun and enjoyable. It’s infused with lots of surprising variation and personality across its relatively short 3 hours or so playthrough. The Cub breaking into dance or scratching his bum breathes life into the character’s feral tendencies. You even build a fondness and connection with him as he treks over challenging obstacles and overcomes tough hurdles, gradually drawing the picture of a tenacious mind with a persistent personality at heart.

Speaking of personality, the game itself has a unique charm that has held fast across its previous games. It inherits Golf Club Nostalgia’s wonderful aesthetic, best described as melancholic yet strikingly atmospheric. It’s so good, in fact, that, just like the predecessors, this is The Cub’s best feature. Without the stellar visual and auditory design, The Cub may have come out a bit mediocre. 

Hit and Miss

See, the fact is, The Cub’s controls aren’t as responsive as you might hope. I figure perhaps owing to its frame rate inconsistencies, but more so, the merging between the backdrops and foreground. You’ll jump onto objects, only to descend to your death because the object was actually a backdrop. Platforms and backdrops intertwine in ways that make you pay for them. But even more annoying are the inconsistent distances between vines, for example. You’ll swing onto a vine only to fall mercilessly to your grave because, well, intent and execution are two far-fetched things here.  

At some points, it becomes a matter of trial and error. You want to continuously adjust your jumps and swings to finally catch the drift of the game. Fortunately, the controls are functional and playable – just a little dusty in some areas.

Verdict

Many of the cogs in The Cub’s wheel run smoothly. Its story, which seems rather fitting of today’s dire times, catches on as soon as you boot up the game. It picks up where Golf Club Nostalgia left off, often borrowing a leaf or two from its storytelling. No matter the similarities, The Cub manages to stand on its two feet, with in-depth detail and varied environments to keep the plot spicy and fun. As to be expected, the visual and soundtrack design sync perfectly in ways Demagog has mastered and fine-tuned to perfection. You’re constantly intrigued, finding clues and puzzle pieces that help make sense of the game’s mutated and neon-lit post-apocalyptic world. 

With most of the game tasking you with platforming across industrial ruin and vegetative splendour, it’s great that Demagog’s does a fairly decent job at execution. The controls are functional, albeit clumsy and sluggish at times. You’ll find yourself misjudging jumps and swings, often leading to your death. The Cub also feels heavy, perhaps intentional of the old-school Genesis, Donkey Kong and Aladdin platforming classics. These certainly don’t render it unplayable. In fact, the game wrapping up in under three hours or so ensures it doesn’t overstay its welcome. 

Still, it’s incredibly difficult to ignore the splendid love and care Demagog put into the soul of The Cub. On no planet did I imagine desolate and beauty could sync ever so perfectly. Yet, neon-lit mutated vegetation flourishes anew here, sprouting beneath a barren earth amid shattered skyscraper remnants. Each detail in the illustrated levels and vibrant colors of The Cub constantly keeps your attention span at an optimum high—flaws be damned.