Bayonetta 3 – Zero Punctuation

Which is something that only comes up when the idea bucket is very light and you’ve written yourself into the corner so hard we could put a doily on your head and call you an end table. If you can’t threaten the protagonist anymore ‘cos she’s killed God like nine times just introduce other dimensions and all bets are off. Not that cohesive plotting or understandable context have ever been Bayonetta’s strong point. I find it very hard to grasp precisely how much threat Bayonetta is under at any given moment because she just keeps pulling new superpowers out of her weirdly proportioned bum until she wins. The final boss encounter in this game goes through the same cycle, like, nine times. 10 print “Ha ha give up you cannot beat me.” 20 Bayonetta stomps him like a poo in a shower drain. 30 print “Oh no you have beaten me how is this possible PSYCH slightly more invincible form!” Bayonetta almost dies but then doesn’t, 40 goto 10. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable plot device? Well, what will happen when we throw a beanbag chair into an industrial grinder? Something that would make spectacular fodder for whimsical Youtube videos no doubt, but it’s hard to get dramatically invested.

No, we don’t play Bayonetta for a clear understanding of what the fuck’s going on. Ask me what the fuck was going on in Bayonetta 2. Yahtzee, what the fuck was going on in – I don’t the fuck know. We play these games for their impressive flamboyance and skillful combat that’s satisfying to pull off, for what would spectacle fighting be without -tacle. Perhaps Bayonetta 3 feels lesser than its antecedents because it’s already gone over the top so many times the distance between it and the top are now of astronomic significance. The combat does gain a new dimension this time around because as well as a primary weapon and some accessories you also equip a giant monster. Presumably in an extremely large baby harness the size of a communal picnicking tent, and then you call upon it whenever you want in battle and as long as you’ve got the magic power it’ll pop out and serve whatever’s in front of it with tartar sauce and a slice of lemon. Which does pretty significantly innovate upon the existing combat, in the way the Battle of Teutoburg Forest significantly innovated upon the 17th Legion.

It’s the classic sequel problem that an attempt to escalate the gameplay with bigger and better powers has the effect of just making it easier. You wonder even more why any of the enemies would feel motivated to show up for work when their target can at any moment throw all her clothes off and make a giant woman in high heels appear and stomp on their testic – oh I just thought of an explanation, actually. It is pretty demystifying, though. In prior games the point at the end of the boss fight where Bayonetta does the magic stripper dance that makes Godzilla appear out of her armpits and take the enemy apart like poorly secured gift wrapping, felt like a cathartic payoff. And that’s kinda lost when you can pull them out on a whim. Especially when the game keeps adding new monsters to the arsenal when you’ve barely got to grips with the last one. “Well done, player, here’s the ability to shoot a fifty foot tarantula out of your pubes.” would in any other context be met with excitement, and possibly concern about our soothing cream inventory, not a sense of “Oh for Christ’s sake just put it with the others.” I always get anxiety when Bayonetta and Devil May Cry games do this. Am I actually expected to use all these different weapons?

I’ve gotten into a nice button mashing groove with the giant club and the yo-yos, I don’t feel like going back to square one, Bayonetta 3. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Oh you beat the desert level? Here’s two more weapons and two more giant monsters.” Fuck’s sake. What am I, a giant monster orphanage? Gonna need a Thanksgiving table the size of Wingate Mesa at this rate. This is all part of a rather repetitive cycle the plot gets into where Bayonetta goes to another dimension, meets the local version of herself, watches them get creamed by the main villain ‘cos he’s totally the most serious threat ever you guys and Bayonetta certainly won’t be hitherto unknown bum-extracted superpowering her way out of this one although she does and then she doesn’t and then she does, and then yoinks her fallen equivalent’s signature weapon and monster pal before anyone has a chance to consult the will. I think Bayonetta 3’s issue is that it does have fun ideas, but most of them are used just beyond the point that they get tiresome. The levels are more open-ended now and you can explore around a bit finding optional challenges, but by the last few levels I was deliberately skipping all that to tarantulaline straight to the next story bit.

‘Cos the platforming challenges were a pain in the arse thanks to Bayonetta’s slightly wonky collision and traversal physics and the little side challenges were a pain in the arse ‘cos I’d have to go through two loading screens to get there and back, one loading screen for the pain and one for the arse. The interlude levels where you play a side-on Impossible Mission-style game with very elaborate 60’s spy movie intro sequence were a nice reprieve for my arse, but when the third one came along and I realised I couldn’t skip the very elaborate spy movie intro sequence, the pain settled back in. Turns out Bayonetta 3 has bigger problems than not paying its voice actors a big enough puppy murdering stipend or whatever that was about. I guess it just feels like we’re going through the motions, “the motions” in this case meaning madly gyrating our naked pelvis as Mothra with tits is conjured from thin air and proceeds to hose down the enemy with torpedos launched from its terrifying nipples, and yeah, that would certainly have been a noteworthy thing to happen in, say, Modern Warfare 2, but for Bayonetta it’s the baseline. Tiresome, tiresome, tiresome. Gosh, I’m glad I’m getting some use out of this word-a-day calendar.