Before the megawatt success of Hades, Supergiant Games dropped one of the most fascinating and unusual games of the last decade: Pyre.
The game is fantasy lore meets 3v3 basketball, and the unlikely combination of the two results in a game that is both beautifully realized and fabulously fun to play.
The Concept of Underrated
Now, underrated is a term that I tend to shy away from. The modern video game industry produces so many incredible experiences that the label of “underrated” gets slapped onto almost any above average game that does not absolutely take over Twitch’s popularity charts for a week.
Very often, it’s not that Game X is underrated. It is just that Game X has been properly loved by the people who found it and engaged with it without ever making the quantum leap to popular consciousness that so, so few pieces of media make in the splintered attention-landscape of 2020s video gaming.
(Though, to be clear, underrated is a well-intentioned label by fans because it is their way of screaming “Hey!! You other gamers are missing out on one hell of a game.” And I totally respect that passion.)
My argument is simply that it is not a useful or accurate way of describing many games that are freaking awesome in their own ways.
Ok rant over. And but so you saw this coming: HOWEVER, I think Pyre might just fit the bill of what it means for a game to be Underrated.
Of course the shadow of younger brother Hades looms massively over the Supergiant catalog, but shouldn’t that mean Pyre gets even more attention?
See, unlike its Supergiant siblings Transistor and Bastion, Pyre is a strangely elusive title, never having made the jump to consoles due to some technical doo-hickies that made even a no-brainer conversion to the Switch an impossibility.
That lack of console exposure hurts even worse considering the sporty nature of the title makes it a much better experience on controller than M+KB. And it released in the pre-Steam Deck days (where Pyre absolutely shines today).
And it wasn’t an issue of critical reception either. Pyre was rated very highly by some key media outlets at release, but that never translated into sales numbers: it is estimated to have earned the developer roughly 75x LESS than Hades at this point.
Ok, ok. Hades was special. Impossible comparison, right? Well…the beautiful, yet straightforward Bastion and Transistor have both sold more than Pyre too—and it’s not particularly close.
So why did this captivating game fail to make the cultural splash that Hades did or even to rival the punch of its in-house predecessors? Ironically, the magic qualities that make Pyre so amazing and worth playing are also the things that restricted its appeal to a larger audience. (Which is kind of sad in a way)
Genre Bending
Pyre is a hybrid of two genres: Visual Novel and Arcade Sports.
(It has RPG elements as well, but that’s not that important)
The VN story (which takes up about 60% of the game) centers around a group of condemned souls living in the underworld, “The Downside,” of the game’s universe. The characters in your party compete with other similarly positioned beings in short basketball-style skirmishes called “Rites.” The goal of each Rite is to extinguish the flame of the opposition (by throwing a spherical object into it enough times) before the other side is able to extinguish your own flame.
There are competing factions, races, and all manner of quirky quasi-deities and individuals with connection to the rites and to the members of your party. The game world is diverse and weaves a fantasy story so unlike so many that came before it. The primary issue at the center of the story is sociopolitical, but the more tangible struggle is a spiritual and personal one. The characters that you bring alongside you (or compete with) are so unique that the increasingly crowded roster always retains a sense of novelty. You are always uncovering new background stories, and the characters grow into themselves as you find success as a group.
Some highlights are Sir Gilman, a worm-like being with a Don Quixote complex, and the hulking demoness Jodariel who has been stuck in The Downside so long that you cannot help but root for her to regain a sense of possibility.
The lore/party members are engrossing and loveable, yet one particular feature is truly a stroke of video game genius. By winning enough Rites, a participant can be granted the opportunity to be redeemed back up to the overworld, “The Commonwealth,” where a gigantic social upheaval is already well under way. You are the one who chooses which characters to free from The Downside. But, by freeing a character, you lose both her prowess in the increasingly difficult matches and your ability to see her story continue to play out. At the same time, without spoiling anything, the characters all naturally have reasons why they want to go back to The Commonwealth. They all have something to fight for and are worth redeeming in their own ways. This is where Pyre draws its humanity because your choice feels so incredibly important.
On my first playthrough, I remember the first character that I freed and exactly how I felt in the moment of his liberation. What would the other characters think and say about my choice? How would this or that character act now without the man I freed? He was such a critical part of the group–what now? I was happy for him to be free, but I was genuinely moved by disappointment at knowing he would not be around to witness what would have been the rest of our story. I loved this aspect of the game so much, folks. What a triumph.
As for the basketball side, the game revolves around the concept of movement and space just like the real game of basketball. Each side can only move one of the three players at a time, and you must pass the ball (or the control) to your teammate for him to start moving. You can also be temporarily banished if you come into contact with the “aura” of another player. Larger characters move slow but cast huge auras and vice versa. You also lose the aura protecting you when you have the ball, which always puts the ball carrier into everyone’s crosshairs.
This simple combination creates all types of strategies. Do you play defensively and wait until the enemy is out of position or down a man to strike with your fastest player? Or do move your chess pieces early and squeeze the other team into an impossible position? Maybe you cycle one character’s strongest offensive ability and use the other two for defense. Small court. Small numbers. Big possibilities.
Some might decry the basketball aspect as repetitive, but I never found it to get stale. Your opponents and their strengths are always changing and the liberation rites prevent you from relying too heavily on one character for too long of a stretch throughout the story. Additionally, matches eventually begin with a penalty selection screen where you can impose restrictions on yourself or give bonuses to the other team in order to secure greater rewards at the end of a successful match. You are essentially building your difficulty level up as you go according to your own taste. This system works very well for me because it feels so organic as you steadily improve your own abilities in the matches.
And so, as you can probably see, how the hell do you communicate any of that in a Youtube trailer?
You cannot call it fantasy-style basketball because it’s not. It has similarities to basketball, but is far from the actual game itself. You cannot really even say it’s an arcade sports fantasy game because the majority of your 10-12 hours in the game will be spent in the Visual Novel side of things. But it isn’t really a Visual Novel because it is a game that revolves around the competitive rites. And on and on the circle of confusing marketing goes.
Bastion and Transistor are so easy to explain.
Transistor: This is a freaking beautiful action game where you work through a bunch of levels
Bastion: This is a freaking beautiful action RPG game where you work your way through a story
As we have all learned by playing Game Dev Tycoon, weird genre mixes just do not = $$$. Even though that exact mix is where Pyre draws its energy and fun.
Thus, dear Reader, we conclude the tragic tale of this once-in-a-generation game. Too weird to get widely played but too interesting to be forgotten. As the tragic figure of Oralech warns us in the game, “My night will come.” Let us hope the same is true for this masterpiece.
Verdict: Top Tier–> Proof that Games = Art
