God, what a shame.
 
Not a shame with Cuphead, a shame with me. Yeah, I didn't like this one. And no, I didn't do a 180 on it like I did with Hades. Yeah, I know. I'm a fanny. I'm a troglodyte. I'm a mess. My parents are in the process of disowning me for it, I'll see you all on Jeremy Kyle.
 
Cuphead really drew me in. It seemed like my kind of game. Looking at the art style, the animation, the incredible effort put into this title, I was so interested to give it a go. I knew I'd love it. I wanted to fight the adorable Mermaid! I wanted to walk around on the overworld and see that little turtle who dips his feets in the water. I wanted to do some 2D platforming fights.
 
Back when games would go into streaming rotation because chat members would submit them, I bought and added Cuphead to the roster myself, I was that sure I’d love it.
 
So I crack open the game, load it up, give it a whack, and…
 
Fucking hell, I couldn't stand it.
 
It's strange; the boss fights weren't bad. The combat was good. The mechanics were sound, unique, and memorable. The balancing was neatly done; precise. Everything about this game was fantastic, but it was one thing - it sounds so minor to even tell you this - but it was one, single factor about this game that absolutely turned me off it forever.
 
The structure.
 
Cuphead is a boss gauntlet. Sure, there's a bit of walking in-between, a bit of overworld sightseeing, and occasionally some "Run n Gun" missions that are arguably more rage-inducing than the boss fights themselves, but it was entirely down to the structure of this game that I burned out on it hard, then walked away.
 
This game is probably 98% boss fights. To pretend there’s any other substance to this is to pretend that gap between your starter and main course where you’re just waiting for food is a course in and of itself. It’s not: it’s empty air, and you’re running out of conversation.
 
See, I like challenge. Love the Souls series, rinsed Hades on higher heat levels, lovingly sucked on Nioh 1 and 2 well into NG+2 and beyond when the enemies all kill you in one hit. The Last of Us on Grounded? Hilarious fun. Permadeath Outlast? Cool, if not dangerously close to heart attack territory. But Cuphead? No. God no.
 
What I didn’t know about myself going in – and what Cuphead graciously helped me learn – was that I need an ebb and flow of gameplay. I need smaller stretches in between big moments. That chance to calm down. I need Blighttown between the Gaping Dragon and Quelaag. I need a fat-walking section between the Clicker Garden and the School. I need those poxy little weird “find an item for me” quests in Nioh between the story missions. I need a change of pace, a chance to unwind, and an opportunity to see a greater breadth of challenge.
 
Put me in front of 30 bosses in a row? No. Please. Go away.
 
In the first region of the game, I found myself struggling to find any elation whatsoever from winning fights. The frogs, the flower, the onion – not hard bosses at all, but any frustrations I felt during the fight absolutely overshadowed any opportunity to enjoy a victory, especially when another, harder fight was waiting just around the corner. I’d slay a beast, it would take me one hour, and then I’d find a beast that took me five hours.
 
Especially in that there’s an element of RNG to the fights. Not that all the moves are random – enemies have set move sets and set ads that hop all over the screen – but that these moves can be used in any order, and in any combination. In some fights the ground you walk on is random.
 
Sometimes stuff will just push you into a corner and you’ll take damage that feels cheap. There's occasionally an eye-rolling amount of visual clutter, tens of items on screen you need to keep an eye on all the time, some of which with some very cheeky hitboxes.
 
Sometimes you’ll have a weirdly easy fight where the enemy aggression is low and things are easy to avoid – and it was fights like this I’d typically win, and fights like this I’d walk away from with a weird sense of imposter syndrome. I never felt like I was learning this game, even when I learned to parry and time my dodges and pick the best builds, I never felt like I was getting anywhere.
 
The dragon, Grim Matchstick, from isle 2, took me a few days of on and off playing, and I can’t whatsoever remember my response when I beat it. I don’t think I had any response at all, it was entirely diminished by the frustration I felt whilst fighting it, and the solemn acceptance that I was likely about to encounter something even worse. Like a numb wank, you just grind away at it with gritted teeth and when you finally reach the finish line, it’s not even worthwhile.
 
I remember my first time beating the Northern Asylum demon, surrounded by my old housemates as they cheered me on. I remember beating Slave Knight Gael to a screaming Twitch chat. I remember beating Fare for the Afterlife, watching the final trophy pop, and losing my mind, almost crying with pride. But Cuphead? When I look back, it’s nothing but a blur. Probably because of all the tears I was playing it through.
 
I finished the game too – and the DLC, that salt baker was hilarious. And the addition of Ms Chalice, the cutest videogame character I’ve ever seen, did kind of help since I found her so adorable, and her abilities so useful. I gave this game an honest try, I got all the trophies. There were bosses I loved the look of too: the Ghost Train, the Dog Fighters, Satan himself – but there’s not one fight I miss, not one fight I’d go back to.
 
Cuphead isn’t a game I’m especially proud of finishing. It’s a strange situation: I can acknowledge its quality. It’s not like I think it’s a bad game. I can play it and know it’s a good game, but, for me, it helped me learn something new about myself.
 
It helped me learn that I don’t like Cuphead.