Bloody Hell, a Demon Wants to Eat the Moon on a Skateboard?! My Deep Dive into Skate Story
AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer ·
It's been almost twenty years since I lived in New York City, but there's something sorcerous about meeting art that can so fiercely resurrect such a deeply personal time and place for an audience of one. Skate Story is one of these experiences; and for even more reasons, it's easily an all-timer of
Right, so you know how sometimes you stumble across a game that just… breaks the mould? Like a spell that misfires in the most spectacular, delightful way, opening up a whole new dimension you didn't even know existed? Well, strap in, because we're talking about *Skate Story*, and fair warning: it’s wilder than a rogue portal in a library.
I've been tinkering with this story all morning, and honestly, my mind is still doing kickflips. Devolver Digital, bless their chaotic hearts, just dropped a narrative adventure that asks: what if a demon, fed up with the moon's obnoxiously bright glow causing insomnia in the underworld, decided the only logical solution was to *eat the blasted thing*? And what if the Devil, being the charmingly sinister bloke he is, offered a skateboard as a weapon – for a soul, naturally? Thus, the Glass Skater is born, and mate, it's a premise that's so bonkers, it's genius.
Now, before you go thinking this is just another button-mashing trick-fest à la *Tony Hawk's Pro Skater*, let me stop you right there. While you absolutely *do* skateboard, and wonderfully so, *Skate Story* is less about high scores and more about an emotional, almost ethereal journey. It's a game that asks you to traverse its spectral landscapes, not just for points, but for meaning. It’s like a conversation you have with a mate after too many pints, where suddenly, profound truths about the universe start making perfect sense.
Sam Eng, the wizard behind this madness, clearly played his cards close to his chest during its six-year development. The trailers were gorgeous, sure, but they barely hinted at the lyrical beauty and exquisite weirdness that vibrates through every pixel. The original reviewer, Alexis Ong over at Eurogamer, hit the nail on the head, describing it as art that can resurrect deeply personal times and places. For Eng, that muse is clearly New York City – a dynamic love letter to psychogeography, starting with ghostly hints and blooming into a full-blown ode to familiar places, reimagined through a demon's moonlight-drenched lens.
Gameplay-wise, Eng eases you in with a gentle hand. You'll learn to ollie, powerslide, and string together combos, earning 'Souls' – the game's currency – to trick out your board at the gift shop. But then it twists. Eating the Moon isn't a walk in the park; it requires precision, fluid combos, and well-timed stomps on 'Moonlit Spots' that act like roving weak points on a cosmic colossus. You can't actually 'die' – you just get back up, a glass demon endlessly regenerating, embodying a 'fierce sense of regenerative violence' that perfectly matches the game's cyclical nature. The later boss fights, described as 'laser-precise ballets', sound like they'll melt your brain into an 'ecstatically unhinged flow state'. Now *that's* a magical experience I'm keen to try!
What truly makes *Skate Story* sing, though, is its emotional depth and clever observations. It unpacks the game as an emotion-driven narrative, diving into the soul of psychogeography – traversing a cityscape where one foot is in imaginary ether and the other is firmly on the ground. The game's cast of NPCs, packed with dry humor, sound like they've earned permanent residence in players' hearts. And it tackles the historical vilification of skateboarding, celebrating it as a 'portal to joy and identity' for minorities and outcasts, a true 'people's weapon' in built environments. It's about adaptation, resilience, and parsing space through intensely personal physical experience. That's some proper wizard-level narrative craft, mate.
Eng, in his brilliantly chaotic wisdom, sprinkles in references from *Evangelion* (apparently 'spot-on' and hilarious), literary postmodern narrative games like *Kentucky Road Zero* and *Norco*, classical philosophy, Derrida, Dante, and Guy Debord's concept of 'drifting' as an act of rebellion. If aimless walking was rebellious, then skating to devour the moon is an insurgency amplified tenfold. It's a postmodern fable for misfits made with exquisite care, finding levity in the face of meaninglessness, which, let's be honest, is a spell we could all use now and then.
Even with a few minor gripes from the original reviewer – a slower learning curve due to orthopedic woes (hey, we're not all svelte, well-oiled machines anymore, are we?), some confusion over 'SWITCH STANCE' text, and accidental dismounts – the sentiment remains overwhelmingly positive. The game's accessibility options, including adjustable timers, health, and even auto-trick mode, show a genuine commitment to letting everyone experience this unique adventure. And the music by Blood Cultures and John Fio, along with Rabbie the rabbit's ASMR-like voice effects, just seal the deal.
In the end, *Skate Story* sounds like a genuine contender for 'game of the year'. It's beautiful, funny, poignant, challenging, and a devastatingly rich text to unpack at your own pace. It's an adventure running wild on adrenaline and wide-eyed wonder, complete with fourth-wall breaks and an S-tier menu design (a small detail, but a mark of true craftsmanship, I reckon!). Eng has poured a deeply personal story into this, but in that intimacy, he’s found shared experiences and universality. We might all be running on the Devil's geometry, but with a bit of luck and perseverance, maybe we can make it out together. And perhaps, just perhaps, eat a moon or two along the way. Get on it, seriously.
Original article: Eurogamer