It’s been a long eight years since Replaced’s development began. It can safely claim the title as one of the most well-documented tumultuous development processes in history. It’s a miracle that it’s out at all. There’s the temptation to contrast this with the impatiently awaited Hollow Knight: Silksong’s unprecedented, secure development, but that may be an article for another day. I bring it up now to draw attention to what kind of expectations arise alongside eagerly awaited games with long development times.
Firstly, this means that Replaced occupies a simultaneously anachronistic and ahistorical spot in the game industry. It’s a game about the creation and implementation of A.I. that retains a posthumanist optimism that in 2026 feels even more fictional in our current landscape of A.I. slop, increasingly worrisome environmental consequences, and unresolved ethical concerns. In this way it feels much like a product of 2021, the year it was first announced at the final E3, in which we were looking for light at the end of the pandemic tunnel. However, its core message on humanity, that our winningest quality is our commitment to each other in times of need, is timeless and genuine.
That’s the risk inherent to a game that has been in the works for nearly a decade. And it makes me pause when I sit down to review it at the close of my 11.5 hours playing it. I’m not sure what I could even expect after anticipating Replaced for so long. It was hard to believe I was even playing it.
It’s a game with visuals that far surpass just about anything in the 2.5D, pixel art realm of games. Take any single screenshot in this game, and there’s a chance it’ll hang in the Louvre someday. It’s also a game with an outrageous amount of bugs that I am sure Sad Cat Studios is quietly stomping with well-worn boots in the background as I comfortably type at my desk.
It’s a game that felt like the artists alone had put in quadruple the amount of labor hours available in an eight-year period, but also a game that feels underbaked, barely clocking in the required, minimal cooking time for bread in the oven. It’s a mess, but it’s also timely and hopeful.
Much like the game’s narrative moral, I think the latter wins the day.
Replaced is one of the most cinematic and arresting games I have played. It’s a top dog in the race for best art style/direction at any awards outlet this year. It sprints past its inspirations and rivals, really any game that dons a cyberpunk aesthetic. The camera work in each cutscene is tasteful and bold. It adds a striking amount of depth as you make your way sidescrolling through Phoenix City. This is an undeniable tour de force that will drop your jaw from the opening cutscene and keep it on the floor for the entirety of the game.
There’s a hangup with such detailed backdrops, though. It’s when you’re in the thick of a fight. Replaced’s combat proudly boasts its Batman: Arkham Knight’s influence with its whole chest. Enemies will have an indicator flash over their heads for attacks you must either counter or dodge through. These are the two major rules that define the majority of combat scenarios. In a game with intense yellow or red lights with lovingly touched up glows burning brightly behind you, those indicators often will get buried in the environment.
In later chapters, this is a huge disadvantage when you’ll have to juggle counters, dodges, charging enemies, bullet deflection, and shield breaking all at once. The final battles are overwhelming. Replaced limits its crowd control abilities and emphasizes aggressive play to make it through encounters. Melee attacks will charge your gun, which in the first half of the game will dispatch any regular foe and dramatically lessen the stress of a combat scenario. But it isn’t the combat mechanics themselves but rather the space that makes these fights so tough.
In a two-dimensional environment, your movement is severely hindered. Rather than finding a corner to recover in or being able to keep enemies at bay in a circle, you’re constantly sandwiched between enemies on both sides, and dodging into one likely means landing right where another enemy is going to strike. As much as you have to carefully choreograph your position, oftentimes I would begin a fight already at a disadvantage or resigned to the merciless coordination of enemy attacks.
And so I go back to reset the fight and hope for better RNG (random number generation) or rethink my positioning on the next round. That’ll fetch me mixed results.
Conversely, occasionally you’ll string together several counters and feel euphoric satisfaction as you take down a band of enemies and get the rare upper hand on the next wave. If you stack your gun’s ammo quickly enough, you’ll be able to rip and tear with a handful of bespoke takedown animations through foes like a hot knife through butter. When Replaced throws you a bone, it’s smooth combat.
Platforming, similarly, has its highs and lows. Without going into as much detail, I’ll say that it’s serviceable and makes sense. Find the yellow-painted ledges, climb, and jump through hazards towards the next ledge that points forward. Swing on a bar or double jump to access new areas, and keep an eye peeled for pathways to lore tidbits or updates.
Movement is methodical when platforming, but sluggish when on the run. It’s hindered in two major ways. First, the jump. It’s awkward and squat. You can press down the input to jump a bit further and higher, but the button release feels slightly delayed before execution. Second, in chase sequences. These are thankfully not too common, but they rarely have checkpoints and are designed around precision.
In chapter 5, there’s one sequence on a crane. It’s gorgeous. It’s equally frustrating. I felt like it came down to pixel-perfect rolls and immediate switchback hopping up a wall, as well as a hefty dose of luck, to zig-zag my way to the ending of that sequence. The drone following me would clip me with one single round the second its cone of vision overlapped with me and send me back to the top without much feedback on how to better improve my chances on my next attempt. God forbid you trip on something while running away from an enemy. You’ll never recover in time.
Combat and platforming hangups aside, it’s the story in Replaced that drives the game toward its conclusion. The first few chapters are a bit too scatterbrained. The prologue sets up the premise well enough: You are Dr. Warren Marsh, a distinguished and arrogant scientist/engineer who has developed a powerful A.I. codenamed R.E.A.C.H. What this A.I. does is dubious at best, even in the opening moments. You’re introduced to its ability to match citizens of Phoenix City with “donors.” After your work is interrupted by an explosion, R.E.A.C.H. becomes implanted in Warren’s body. There’s a tender moment where you as a player lovingly but also knowingly watch as R.E.A.C.H. assumes the best and noble intentions of everyone you encounter and then get immediately betrayed. In many ways, the story has a coming-of-age feel to it as R.E.A.C.H. understands the worst of society.
Its heart is where the A.I. matures from a superficial acknowledgement of social problems to a nuanced and complete understanding of how social divisions are institutionally reinforced for profit. Early on in the game, this is muddled by the rip-roaring 80s characters and storytelling. It’s heavy on the quips and pizzazz and light on the meditation. The character Tempest, who easily could have been played by Kurt Russell, is an impulsive hotshot with charisma who doesn’t work too well as a counterweight to the player protagonist, who is a naïve but capable killing machine. You’ll find a center hub and meet a wonderful cast of characters, who get very little development or screen time. Nearly everyone serves to dole out quests rather than build the world.
When you discover some major plot details around the halfway mark, then Replaced hits its stride. Don’t worry, this game has plenty to say on the exploitation of people as chattel for the wealthy and powerful. But by focusing on how humanity is lost, and potentially rediscovered, in the wasteland of technological “advancements,” the game ends up having something profound to say on social inequality and big tech’s role in exasperating those problems.
At the conclusion of five public years of hype and eight years of development, Replaced is nearly a masterpiece. Everything your eye perceives is worthy of art and film history books. Actually playing the game is fine until the cards are stacked against you and some of the execution is off. The punches are crunchy, but the combat will tire when you’re served up an impossible string of attacks to dodge.
The platforming fulfills its role to pace out different set pieces, but the jump and chase scenes drag. The story has something meaningful to say when it cuts the fat and zooms in on the message alluded to in its title. But like most things, with the right kind of patience and meeting it halfway, Replaced’s shortcomings are outweighed by its genuine humanity.
