No More Heroes III review

Filled with a roster of batshit crazy character, feverish action, and a dubiously health obsession with Takashi Miike, No More Heroes III lands on PC. Expect all the satire of the Switch version, only without the sputtering framerate.

Nine months before the release of the original No More Heroes, Goichi Suda hosted a lecture at the 2007 Game Developers Conference entitled, “Punk’s Not Dead”. It’s a phrase rightfully associated with the director as well as his company, Grasshopper Manufacture. The studio’s early output, with titles like The Silver Case, killer7, and Flower, Sun, and Rain all share a defiance toward conformity. Each is magnificently multifaceted, resists straightforward descriptions, and has more personality than most developers’ entire body of work.

Similarly, the first twenty minutes of No More Heroes III demonstrates more creativity than many triple-A, endlessly focus-tested franchises. The game opens with returning protagonist Travis Touchdown reminiscing about a retro game called Deathman. But instead of merely showing a cinematic of a make-believe retro title, it’s a playable game within a game, one of many that fill the series’ playtime.

Like previous entries, No More Heroes III is a tribute to pop culture, referencing everything from games, anime, tokusatsu, wrestling, and beloved films. But punk has few allegiances, and delightfully, almost everything can be a target of ridicule in the game.

Pleasingly, the references come at a quick pace in No More Heroes III. Following the faux-retro game foreshadowing of Touchdown’s journey, the game settles for an anime-style skewering of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. Here, Suda and company mock the melodramatic plotline of a young boy helping his alien friend return to his home planet. Before the adorable creature boards his rocket to head home, there’s the requisite mawkish affirmation and a promise of reunification in twenty years.

Two decades later, we find that both the boy and the alien have grown into complete assholes. Damon Riccitiello (referencing the former EA head who said that game developers not thinking about monetization were “fucking idiots”) has used the powers endowed by the extraterrestrial to become a spineless tycoon obsessed with saving his own ass. Meanwhile, the loveable visitor, who goes by FU or more formally, Jess Baptiste VI, has become the supreme leader of the Galactic Superhero Corps. He destroys planets as a hobby, and earth is next on his to-do list.

Like a catchy riff rooted in a pop-punk anthem, No More Heroes III offers a succession of fist-pumping rewards. Within minutes, we witness satirical reminders to not play games more than ten hours a day, in-game conversations praising the prolific filmmaking of director Takashi Miike, and even a roomful of corporate executives eviscerated by FU. But after violently assaulting Shinobu Jacobs, the game spends time establishing the alien as a merciless antagonist, setting things up for Travis’ ascension up the Galactic Superhero Rankings. Yes, it’s a familiar format, but it’s one that still works well, especially given the series’ wonderfully eccentric boss battles that toss new challenges at players.

But what works especially well is the game’s patchwork of aesthetics, which incorporate everything from wide-eyed anime characters, washes of blood, faux action figure commercials, low-fi VHS tapes, barren open-worlds landscapes, and Netflix’s countdowns before subsequent episodes. More than previous entries, No More Heroes III feels like a blender filled with the fruits of our pastime, with hints of everything from Resident Evil’s stilted navigation to the psychedelia of Ultraman’s opening credits. Dialog is wonderfully farcical, with an exchange of taunts right out of a pulpy grindhouse film or a swiftly localized action game. There are a few games that allow the player to plumb the subconscious of the average otaku, but few do it this well.

While you can drink up No More Heroes III’s multitude of references, you can also abstain from the bulk of it, focusing on the game’s assortment of activities. Naturally, Touchdown’s trademark Beam Katana and the Death Glove introduced in Travis Strikes Again make a reappearance, allowing for plenty of feverish swordplay. In addition to your rapid light attacks and powerful heavies, dropkicks, area of effect assaults, and a telekinetic push can assist when tackling throngs of foes.

As if turning opponents into blood fountains wasn’t enough, there’s also a slot machine-style mini-game triggered after taking down a foe or performing a killer slash. The Slash Reel provides access to some of Travis’ most dramatic abilities, granting abilities like katana hacking that doesn’t deplete your battery, being able to perform wrestling moves on enemies that aren’t stunned, and even mecha armor and missiles. Delightfully, that’s not the only mechanized bit in the game, with Suda building on his experience with Liberation Maiden.

Also, Travis can jump during fights, but the subsequent strikes aren’t all that powerful. And you’ll likely miss the themed lead-ups from previous entries. No More Heroes III lacks the pre-boss encounters, favoring rather featureless wave-based fights.

Even worse, Grasshopper Manufacture’s joke about the vapidity of game sandboxes feels old. In the first game, the barren streets and sporadically stubborn navigation was sharp satire. But in this iteration, finding out that your modified Demzamtiger can’t blow through a flimsy parking lot boom gate feels like a comedian recycling their old material. You’ll also have to get behind the wheel in order to earn the required registration fees to fight the next boss on the Galactic Superhero Rankings.

The other side-quests and errands used to raise money still feel like work. Yes, a bulk of the game’s fifteen (or so) hour playtime is spent depicting Travis doing labor. And whether you are moving lawns, planting trees, unclogging toilets, mining ore, or collecting trash from alligator-saturated areas, each activity loses its novelty long before you’ve earned your virtual paycheck. Sure, the irony about doing the kind of work that games usually provide escapism from is amusing. But the gag lingers on the punchline, as registration fees escalate in price. On the upside, the PC port remedies the sputtering framerate of the Switch version, allowing you to fluidly cruise through Santa Destroy’s eerily vacant streets and perform tedious tasks with all the fluidity of the real world.

Fortunately, No More Heroes III’s creative boss battles make the senselessness of side quests forgivable. From beating one foe at a game of intergalactic musical chairs to confronting Destroyman one more time, the dozen showdowns here are undoubtedly the game’s best moments. Nearly every one of them is preceded by the buildup of a professional wrestling match. Heroes’ heavies are all larger-than-life shit-talkers who attempt to intimidate you. The joy here is discovering advantages, as you dish out a steady stream of Beam Katana strikes and Akira Maeda-style suplexes while wearing an unlockable “Fuck Racism” hoodie and sandals.

Look past No More Heroes III’s playtime-padding activities and you’ll discover a breathtaking collage of sight and sound that mostly moves at a wonderfully breakneck pace. Yes, the errands and driving can be peeving but they are counter-balanced with a well-spring of pop references and imagination that erupt like the arterial spray of a Miike film. If No More Heroes III was real, it would probably fill Travis’ waking hours.

No More Heroes III was played on PC with review code provided by the publisher.