What does a solo dev dream about?
As you might imagine from that, the end result is both heartfelt and fiddly.
It’s also filled with glitches and floaty jumps that are hard to land.
Clive ‘N’ Wrench
Yes, absolutely.
I get all of this.
But I have already lost one morning to Clive ‘N’ Wrench, and, reader?
I suspect I am going to lose another.
The first level is a perfect example.
You’ve got a kitchen, living room and bathroom to explore, but you’re absolutely tiny.
It feels like Banjo Kazooie mixed with Micro Machines.
I leap from sponges in the sink and dance past gas hobs.
I climb chairs to get onto breakfast tables.
I navigate the toothbrush pot by the bathroom mirror.
For a few moments, Clive ‘N’ Wrench reminds me of the firstCrysis, of all things.
It’s about surveying a terrain, picking a path, and working out how to get there.
Later levels have their own charms.
I’m getting to explore someone else’s imagination - someone else’s ideal game.
It’s quite a strange experience playing Clive ‘N’ Wrench, then.
Actually, maybe it’s stranger still.
Because here’s the thing: I didn’t love the super collectathon-centric platformers back in the day.
And I am willing to put up with a bit of floatiness to that end.
