Rayman
Unfinished game #4
Type of Game
A compendium of enchantment, more magical than all fairy tales combined. The character also takes more punishment than in all fairy tales combined.
Release Date on our machines
December 1995, well after Super Mario Bros. Long before, um... Hollow Knight, for instance.
Developer
Ubi Soft Paris Studios still exists, but a lot has happened since then, hasn't it?
Publisher
Ubi Soft Entertainment Software was such a dream back then.
Rayman : available on GOG.com, and Ubisoft Store, under the name Rayman Forever. Basically, the base game, a level editor, and fan-made stages.
Still too young to decide which games were installed on my stepfather's computer, I discovered Rayman somewhat by chance, as I did with WipEout and, well, let's say EF-2000 for a change from the usual references. And like everything else, I grabbed the CD-ROM, looked around to make sure no one was watching me, and launched the game with the near certainty that I was going to have a good time. I was half hiding because, of course, my stepdad had bought it for my little sister Rebecca and hadn't told me that a new game had been added to his computer's hard drive. But unfortunately for him, she hit the game over three times in ten minutes, then asked me to play for her before moving on to something else entirely. Lucky for me, that left me plenty of time to discover it at my leisure. And to get beaten too, mind you. I didn't just love Rayman because I was breaking a semi-rule by winning a measly victory over the other stepdad scumbag, but for a whole bunch of more legitimate reasons. The first was the feeling of opening the door to a world exuding a magic that was completely new to me. The second... well, I'll talk about that later, so as not to sabotage myself right from the introduction.
Solidarity in beatings
Revolution in the land of platforms
According to a study I conducted on a panel of less than five individuals, and based on absolutely nothing, I can say this: the emergence of PCs with lots of megabytes in the box has led to the democratization of a whole bunch of new types of video games in people's homes. The established values that we thought were immutable just a few months earlier? Sidelined, removed from the hype forever. Platformers were among the most affected, in my opinion. I forgot about them as quickly as I welcomed strategy games into my heart. However, Rayman brilliantly resisted the avalanche of RTS games like Warcraft II, FPS games like Heretic, and management games like Colonization that swept into households, without even overshadowing it at all. Kudos to the people who brought him to life, while respecting the codes of the genre and subjecting him to several small revolutions. Among the most important of these is the character who evolves and gains new abilities throughout his adventure.
In any case, seeing this feature outside of a classic RPG seemed so crazy to me that it took me several years to get over it. However, I had already seen it before in horizontal scrolling action games, notably in Mystic Defender. But I wasn't impressed by the latter at all; in fact, I found it rather repulsive. And so I didn't make the connection. It happens; you scratch your head and life goes on, I guess. Should I persist with this baseless argument that spouts as much nonsense as it does opinions sugarcoated by childhood nostalgia? Is it awful to read? Okay, I'll keep going! Beyond the gameplay improvements (which are a little more varied than in Mystic Defender, at least), what elevates Rayman to legendary status is undoubtedly his graphic style.
From the very first seconds, this life that bursts out of the scenery, both in the foreground and background, captivated me to such an extent that it took me several years to get over it (as with the evolution system, yes). Until then, if something moved in a game, it either meant there was an object to use or an enemy to beat up (although that's debatable in Ecco the Tides of Time, but hey, underwater doesn't count). In Rayman, flowers dance, butterflies flit about cheerfully, and all sorts of things wriggle around... This makes the immersion ten times greater, without disrupting the gaming experience in the slightest. However, other games had done this before, such as Sonic 1 and Sonic 2. Why had I missed this until now?
​It may have seemed less magical with the hedgehog, more artificial with Dr. Eggman. Okay, I'll stop getting bogged down in my contradictions before I can't get out of them. The truth is, I didn't get very far in Rayman, which is why I'm only talking about the forest and the cute mushrooms that jump around. But the magnificence of the first few levels was more than enough to transport me for eternity. And for once, I fell in love with a joyful and colorful art style; it was a nice change from all those dark and edgy universes that made me believe I was a cool guy. At least with Rayman, there was no smoke and mirrors. I knew where I stood: among the dreamers who had their snacks stolen in the playground. Go on! Comfort yourself by thinking about dancing flowers, kid!
What do you mean, not even close?
Based on my past experience with games of this type, I think I've completed about two-thirds of the adventure. Come on, at least half of it for sure! So I watch a longplay, feeling pretty proud of myself, only to realize that... oh no! I've only done a third at most, since I got stuck during the musical world, I can't remember exactly where. I think I had just unlocked the ability to glide by twirling Rayman's hair. Well, his mac and cheese that serves as his hair, rather. Damn, it's a change from the platformers I knew before, where you could beat the game in thirty minutes. On YouTube, classic playthroughs range from two and a half to four hours! Wohohoho! No wonder most reviewers all mention the same trauma. I wasn't dreaming back then when I thought it was super hard. Too bad, I missed out on the mountain biomes, giant drawing materials, winding caves, and finally the castle where the final boss lives, a wizard who had nothing better to do than destroy the harmony of the entire world.
And yes, I used the term “biome,” which makes my teeth bleed every time I hear it, but I was tired of repeating ‘world’ and ‘stage.‘ These ‘biomes,‘ then, have nothing to be ashamed of compared to the forest at the beginning. I've seen some passages... and it's hard not to regret having cowardly abandoned Rayman when I had it in my hands. All those pretty images that will never make it into the vast database of my nostalgia, a tragedy of Dantean proportions, unimaginable for anyone even remotely grounded in reality. So what about the abilities? Which ones did I miss? The sprint and the extended helicopter. Oh yeah, enough to make me want to revisit each bio... sorry, each world, to open all the cages containing Electoons, those little living emojis that you have to free to save the planet (and reach 100%). What's more, there's replayability within the same game. Ahlalalalalala, what a stroke of genius, what!
LIVE FROM PARADISE
The OST could be summed up as follows: a repertoire of auditory wonders that delight the ears and transform an already beautiful adventure into a wonderful dreamlike journey. Just that, yeah. I'll think about applying for the music section of a far right magazine, when democracy has disappeared. During a game, I often let go of the keyboard for a moment because I started shaking my head, eyes closed, transported by all these beautiful melodies. When I opened them again, I met the distressed gaze of my father-in-law, who sighed and muttered some insult before returning to his own loser activities. And then I lost a life, or rather Rayman lost a life, pierced by the vile proboscis of an equally vile yellow and pink mosquito. Did I say that the art direction was close to perfection? Yeah, well... not when it comes to the enemies, which I find utterly disgusting. What's with the explorers with their stupid hats and pickle-like appearance. YUCK! In any case, getting carried away by the pretty graphics clearly didn't help me progress through the levels. Again, I'm only talking about the first few tracks, because I obviously don't know the rest. I still haven't listened to them today, too torn by the fear of having missed some gems when discovering them would have mattered. It already stings to watch the levels I didn't play as a kid, so... Even though I admire the tracks that accompany the various forest areas, one stands out even more. The one that accompanies the fairy who gives us a new ability. I don't know why such a joyful moment had to sound so melancholic to the developers, but WOW! Goosebumps, tears in my eyes, and a mindless smile. What more could you ask for? A big posthumous thank you to Rémi Gazel (and the others who accompanied him) for his fantastic work.
​Towards the hallway, and beyond
The family computer migrated from the master bedroom to the end of the hallway around the time this game arrived in our home, during the second half of 1996, I would say. Or even early 1997. No one cares about this detail, but I like to reconstruct my mental timeline; to know at what age I destroyed my mother's “pretty” crystal vases while playing soccer in the living room, for example. And that we made the insurance company pay by pretending it was all Randall's fault. Anyway, this completely impractical computer setup blocked half the access to my room and Rebecca's, but I was so happy that I didn't mind squeezing and contorting myself a little. At least the PC was no longer suffocating in the depths of my stepfather's gloomy lair, covered in papers and dirty underwear. With this uncomfortable oppression removed, I was able to enjoy gaming sessions in a whole new way, almost as peaceful as in front of the Mega Drive, installed in the protective cocoon that served as my den. This change had the same effect on me as the lushness of the levels Rayman traversed: a great wind of freedom.
It's crazy how five meters can change your life. I almost wanted to shout “YEAH!!” like Rayman does at the end of each level. Does anyone know why he has the voice of a drunk hooligan only at that precise moment? And without even opening his mouth (but flashing his teeth)? Because it left me speechless a bunch of times, even though I thought it was kind of cool once the shock wore off. It's worth noting that in the PlayStation version of the game, a semi-demonic “laugh” was added to that famous “YEAH.” And that laugh can also be found in the sound bank of a music creation software called Techno Maker, released the same year as Rayman, which had a huge impact on my childhood. What other machines was this game released on? If surprises like this await me on each of the different consoles, I'm in for a lot of fun! Hahahahah! I love setting myself pointless goals like this to get away from the daily grind of real life. It's so... sad? Yes, sad is the word, actually.
Follow Rayman publications on the social media!
