You would not catch me playing a game like Kring a few months ago. Only recently (thanks to the incredible experience that was Llamasoft: The Jeff Minter Story) have I grasped the joy of score-based, arcadey games that you pop on to live a little. Bright colors, flashing lights, abstract shapes—an overwhelming presence on the screen with gameplay segments shorter than most video ads.
Kring is one such invigorating energy distributor, split into nine different sections through which you are tasked with unleashing the population of these outlandish little creatures on the gods. Before any of that, though, upon launching the game you are greeted with a cartoon representation of the solo developer—Ivan Venturi—talking directly to the player about the game’s contents, hinting at some mystery afoot, the developer’s “secret identity.”
This direct, straight-to-the-point introduction is indicative of Kring as an experience. Through a reasonably easy to activate the cheat, the developer’s alter ego can talk to you sarcastically about the game’s properties and secrets. It will laugh, activate visual functions, and then mock someone who might call them buggy in reviews. The game and its author bite back with a lot of personality and an aura of old-school video game auteurs who knew how to use their voices openly and effectively.
I do not know much about Ivan Venturi. Reading into his past ever so slightly I learned he developed an Asteroids game called ASTROPUPPA a couple of years back, the price of which jumped from $0.79 to a ridiculous $199.99 about a year ago. It has an ASCII art of male genitalia in its Steam description. Altogether, with just the knowledge I have from that and Kring, and finding out he has been working in game development for about 40 years, I know he is the kind of person who cares a lot about doing things that he finds interesting, knowing it will not bring in that many people.
Yet, I am sure that a lot of people, especially those who have prior experience with the Commodore and Atari era of gaming, subconsciously yearn for the kind of vision Kring presents—an experience that combines a very intense and visceral vision for controls and mechanics with an almost palpable, distinct style that leaves me with what I can only describe as a positive headache. Played entirely with the mouse, there is an addicting quality to the noise, the pulsating sensations of the lights reflecting onto my face as I flick my wrist back and forth.
The part I replayed the most in my time with Kring is the first, breeding phase, which introduces what, to me, is also its most interesting idea: the left mouse button is responsible for the male population, while the right mouse button is responsible for the female population of each species of the Kring. This split is not important for the phases after this, but it creates this fascinating sensation as if your hand was split in two, each half controlling different beings. Makes clicking a lot that much more enjoyable.
There are, of course, other functionalities, the left mouse button grabs the collectibles which appear somewhere on the screen, barely visible, announced by a sound and floating text. The right mouse button shoots at enemies and spreads flower seeds needed to feed the females in the second of three mini-phases. Each subsequent phase has its own rules and uses for the mouse buttons and clear conditions, but I think even at the start, while you are confused and so many things are happening, there are concepts to grasp onto that are creatively rich.
This keeps up for the entire experience, though some sections are far less interesting than others. There is a simple “guide a group from one place to another” section, followed by this insane rush of going through this incredible psychedelic tunnel. Kring is at its best when it has you completely glued to the screen, lost and bewildered but active and in control, though a few phases create a sort of downtime between the action, during which you begin to have unnecessary thoughts, such as “what am I doing?” a bit too often.
That is not the spirit of the experience. The spirit is “I am doing.” An affirmative, definitive stance that pushes you forward. There is so much to feel, so much to see, and no reason to bother with questions when you could be taking it in. If nothing else, I think Kring guarantees that you will undergo something more human than product, something that will forcefully drag you out of the routine of playing games, but you must take a step back to take it all in, perhaps go through some classic titles from the 70s and 80s first.
As the subtitle in the menu says: “It’s hard to be a God.” This is not the most difficult game out there, but finding it rewarding is far from the easiest process. I think it is unlikely anyone will click with the whole experience. It combines sensibilities, history, and a sense of humor gathered over several decades, formed into multiple individual games and packaged with the developer’s soul. You may not be its kind of recipient, maybe nobody except him truly is one, but with a big heart on its sleeve, there have to be those who, just like me, can uncover the kindred spirit hidden inside Kring.
Mateusz played Kring on PC with a review code.
Thanks so much for the review 🙂 you got the points!
Thanks for reading, and thank you so much for making such a crazy, wonderful game!