LEGO Voyagers: A Co-Op Masterpiece That Vanishes Like a Fumbled Spell?
AI Gaming News Author · IGN South Africa ·
Jeff dives into LEGO Voyagers, a charming co-op adventure that builds a fantastic foundation with its unique tone and creative puzzles, only to end far too quickly, leaving him and his daughter wishing for more from its wonderfully presented world.
Right, so you know that feeling when you're just getting into a really good book, the plot's thickening, characters are truly gelling, and then BAM! You're on the last page. That, my mates, is the slightly bittersweet magic trick LEGO Voyagers pulls on you. After a quick peek during a preview session, I was genuinely buzzing, even went as far as thinking, and I quote, 'LEGO Voyagers might already be my favorite LEGO game ever.' Keyword: *might*. It was a fleeting thought, like a spell cast just a *tad* too enthusiastically, leaving a gorgeous but temporary shimmer in reality.
Here’s the rub, though: between that initial dazzle and my 14-year-old daughter and I actually rolling credits, something rather less ideal transpired. We tumbled, built, and laughed our way through this mandatory-two-player adventure from Light Brick Studios and arthouse legends Annapurna Interactive, only to hit the end screen far, far sooner than anticipated. It was like finally nailing that impossible combo in a fighting game, only for the boss to just… disappear. We enjoyed every single moment, mind you – proper top-tier co-op fun – but the sudden conclusion left us disappointingly unfulfilled, as if the game had only just started clearing its throat before deciding to mic drop.
We rolled credits after a mere three and a half hours. Three and a half! Even the publisher's estimate of 'a slim five hours' felt a bit like a gentle warning, but we managed to undershoot even that. Now, I’m not usually one to knock a game for being a bit on the shorter side. Hell, Playdead’s *Inside* is still probably one of the greatest things I've ever had the pleasure of reviewing – a dialogue-free adventure that also wraps up in less than four hours. But *Inside* left my jaw on the floor in pure, unadulterated astonishment, a masterpiece of atmosphere and storytelling. *LEGO Voyagers*, on the other hand, left both my daughter’s and my jaws on the floor for a completely different reason: we both genuinely uttered, 'Wait, that’s it?'
To be fair, this is a twenty-five quid game, and not everything has to be the next *Silksong* (seriously, where IS it?!). But it absolutely left us wanting more in a 'no, really, we actually thought there'd be *more* than this' kind of way. It’s a bit like finding a treasure map that leads you to an amazing, albeit tiny, chest. You’re thrilled with the treasure, but you definitely expected a whole crypt of riches. I’m getting this one minor gripe out of the way upfront, just to set expectations, because, honestly, outside of the campaign's rather abrupt finale, I pretty much adore everything else about *LEGO Voyagers*.
Let’s chat about the tone for a moment. It’s a delightful departure from the more slapstick, licensed LEGO games we’ve seen from Traveller’s Tales – and certainly a different vibe from the LEGO movies' whimsical, heart-on-its-sleeve humour. *Voyagers* opts for something far more playfully curious, wonderfully so. You and your co-op partner aren’t caped heroes or famous characters; you’re just nameless, voiceless 1x1 bricks. One red, one blue, both sporting a single, mildly expressive eyeball. You quite literally roll around this beautifully rendered LEGO world, propelled by fairly believable physics that make navigating the diorama-like spaces a joy. It doesn't make a lick of logical sense, of course, but you can jump with a press of a button and snap onto any nearby peg. There’s even a button to rotate your brick’s orientation while snapped on, which is surprisingly useful for tricky builds.
And not entirely voiceless, actually! Those adorable little 1x1 bricks can make cute noises with a press of a button. Sometimes it’s for a neat little harmonizing moment, but mostly, I reckon, it’s a brilliant, wordless way to get your mate's attention when playing online. Speaking of online play, big props to Annapurna for taking a leaf out of Hazelight’s book and offering a Friend’s Pass. It means you only need one copy of the game to play with a pal – a genuinely player-friendly move that more games should embrace.
Our tiny, adorable bricks became instant favourites. It’s got a real Pixar-ish charm, with those subtle touches like the blue brick sporting a tiny beach bucket on its 'head.' And the music? Oh, the music! It’s not constant, but when it kicks in, it truly defines *Voyagers*'s playful, serene atmosphere. Mellow, varied, and just hums along, adding to the experience rather than fading into forgettable background noise. Most of it would probably end up on your 'Chill Vibes' or yoga playlist, not exactly headbanging stuff, but it absolutely *works* here, drawing you into its calming embrace.
Now, onto the bricks themselves, because they truly shine. The art direction and visual identity of *Voyagers* are refreshingly authentic. It’s less cartoony, leaning into a sort of digital realism where every single piece looks like the shiny, tactile plastic of its real-life counterpart – complete with the iconic LEGO wordmark stamped into each stud. The soft, ambient daytime lighting in many scenes bathes everything in a warm, serene glow, fostering that relaxing, playfully curious tone. The interplay of light and shadow is frankly brilliant, drawing you into these miniature worlds instantly.
And those worlds! They're like meticulously crafted dioramas that sometimes feature flowing water or are surrounded by it, adding to the illusion that you’re observing actual, physical LEGO sets from above, a sort of omniscient puppet master. This easy-going atmosphere is further bolstered by the complete and utter lack of punishment for 'death.' When – not if – you tumble off the edge or miss a jump, you instantly reappear right where you messed up. It’s completely low-stakes, actively encouraging a bit of playful chaos. So, when you snap onto your co-op partner and roll both of you off a ledge, or mischievously fling them off a bridge you’re supposed to be holding down for them, they can't even get *that* mad… well, maybe after the fifth or sixth time you pull the same trick. Pure, unadulterated, consequence-free mischief!
The core loop, as you'd expect from a LEGO game, is about building. From the get-go, we intuitively understood that the goal was simple: get from point A to point B. Early on, that means scavenging loose bricks and working together to construct makeshift bridges across gaps. And in true LEGO fashion, there’s no single 'right' way to build your path forward. You could construct a structurally sound marvel, something a civil engineer would proudly sign off on, or, as my daughter and I often did, cobble together a glorious hodgepodge of pieces with zero regard for aesthetics or efficiency, yet it still got the job done. We absolutely reveled in the latter, finding immense satisfaction in our ramshackle creations. (Side note: a Photo Mode would’ve been a stroke of genius here, a perfect way to capture our wonderfully chaotic builds and share them, but screenshots had to suffice.)
The puzzles do gradually ramp up in complexity as you progress, though, as I mentioned, it feels like there was so much more room for them to really blossom. One scene that genuinely stuck with us involved driving a chunky dump truck around an industrial yard where train tracks are forged. Our locomotive was stalled by a gap, so we hopped out, one of us steering the truck while the other (effectively) managed the pedals. We roamed, collecting raw materials, taking them to the foundry to be forged into usable track pieces, then satisfyingly snapped the new track into place, continuing our journey. It was still straightforward, but with a few more satisfying steps than just building a bridge.
Towards the end, there’s a series of minigames that I won’t spoil, but they are particularly finicky, physics-based challenges. They might prove a bit tricky for younger gamers, who will undoubtedly be drawn to *Voyagers*’s E-for-Everyone ESRB rating. Fortunately, none of these fiddly tasks are actually *required* to progress, but we had a blast earning the Achievements that came with conquering them.
Beyond the puzzles, there’s a lovely sense of freedom to just *play* in many scenes. My daughter and I spontaneously started racing to 'pop' every flower we came across by rolling over it (and there are a *ton*), even though there were zero in-game rewards. There are also delightful little 'breaks' you can take, like hopping onto a teeter-totter or simply sitting side-by-side on a bench. They’re absolutely not necessary, but they make for charming little pit stops along your golden path – an idea that fans of Hazelight’s other titles, like *Split Fiction*, might recognise.
If I had one more gentle critique to level at *LEGO Voyagers*, it’s that neither my daughter nor I quite grasped the full meaning of its completely wordless story. Our 1x1 brick avatars witness a rocket launch go sideways in the opening moments, and they spend the next few hours trying to get to the rocket facility. What happens next? Well, you’ll see. But if there was a deeper moral to the tale, in the vein of a *Wall-E* or a *Tunic*, we both seemed to miss it. It didn’t detract from the fun, but it felt like a potential layer that never quite solidified.
Ultimately, I would absolutely love to see the adventures of the red and blue 1x1 bricks continue. *LEGO Voyagers* lays down a truly fantastic foundation that just screams for more – more story, more ingenious puzzles, and simply more time spent in this wonderfully presented world. The building blocks here (pun absolutely intended, mate) are incredibly solid, and I’m convinced there's far more goodness to mine in this plastic-brick well than the three-and-a-half-hour campaign delivers. Its clever ideas never quite got complex enough to truly blow my mind in the way the best puzzle games do. Nevertheless, I wholeheartedly recommend a quick run through *LEGO Voyagers* with a friend or, even better, your child if you’re a parent. While it might sit a tier below Hazelight's absolute titans like *Split Fiction* and *It Takes Two* in terms of mandatory co-op delight, it's still an excellent two-player time for gamers of pretty much any age. A wonderfully crafted, if tragically brief, digital LEGO adventure.
Tags: LEGO, Co-op Gaming, Puzzle Adventure, Indie Game, Annapurna Interactive
Original article: IGN South Africa