God of War Ragnarök review: trapped between great design and Hollywood

My first PlayStation 4 was purchased in 2019. It was the first Big Console I’d had since the days of the slim PlayStation 2, and it came with God of War (2018), a new game from a series I wasn’t too familiar with. The shiny toy was ready to go, so I turned it on. My life is a big part of it. God of War experience — something that didn’t click until later — was the one-off novelty of playing a big blockbuster on a “new” console. That was OK. The story was fine. Sitting down to write this, I realize now that the finer points of the story were almost forgettable, which is kind of what happens when you follow the game-as-a-prestige-movie story path that seems to color a lot of the AAA landscape.

By 2022 God of War RagnarökIt has taken inspiration from the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s success and spectacle to improve on this recipe. It is, in essence, the most non-Marvel Marvel story I’ve seen in a game, from the eminently recognizable story beats — heroes face difficult dilemmas, friends become enemies and vice versa, boy meets girl, beloved characters die, and so on — to its practiced use of comedy and tragedy (the two classical storytelling genders) to push the player’s buttons.

Similar to its predecessor(s), Ragnarök This is the culmination of an all-man fantasy. You can enact strong and badass acts to vengeance on your enemies, while still maintaining the moral high ground. After all, you’re a parent struggling with many issues. While the story does an excellent job of establishing characters and places in the world, the experience is unevenly pacey. It feels more like something that you could consume in a week, but it is still a decent, if not exceptional, movie.

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

Kratos and Atreus start off in Midgard, quietly reeling from the giants’ prophecy that warned of impending apocalypse and Kratos’ death. Since Baldur died, all nine realms have been thrust into Fimbulwinter — a precursor to Ragnarök — which is sort of analogous to drastic, world-ending climate change.

Kratos is still trying to figure out what it means to be a father, despite sharing the same tired countenance of the Ben Affleck Smoking meme. Atreus is puberty incarnate, Mimir is still a head, and Freya — well, she’s still around, and she’s still mad about Kratos killing her son. It turns out that Atreus has been quietly researching giant lore without Kratos’ knowledge, and poking his nose into what happened to Tyr, the Norse god of war. Things kick off after an unannounced visit from Thor and his father, Odin, and Kratos reluctantly, cautiously agrees to follow his son’s quest.

As in the last game Ragnarök builds itself around a central hub — a cozy treehouse where Kratos, Atreus, and Mimir make their home base. The game’s gameplay is the same: they explore new realms and navigate through hostile locales to solve occasional puzzles. Kratos has both his signature weapons, along with new toys that pop up along the way (one appears after the midway point, in one of the game’s many pacing issues), like a helpful amulet that gives you a variety of build options; Atreus has his own skill tree, along with largely cosmetic armor and limited bow upgrades. You’ll find all of the hallmarks of AAA games today: minibosses and treasure chests. It is also difficult to get through locked gates. Kratos still doesn’t have a dedicated jump button, but that’s fine — he’s a big boy.

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

The core principle of universality RagnarökIt is the connection between Kratos & Atreus. The bond between Kratos and Atreus is an emotional one. The first third of the game can be grating if you’re not a fan of claustrophobic bickering and puberty-driven tantrums — I’m not talking about a taut, bristling sense of dramatic tension, but a lot of whining and grunting. However, this creates an immediate feeling of relief every time Kratos and Atreus separate to do their respective things; Atreus finally becomes his own person when he travels to other realms. He finally finds other children his age and embraces himself. The game, for the most part, does a good job of letting Kratos’ horrendously repressed emotions bubble to the surface. The game does a good job of untethering a highly codependent familial relationship. I know this because I am the child of one parent.

The story reveals that the writers were deeply influenced by The Great. SopranosRenaissance after the pandemic. All too familiar are the echoes from a man who is being re-elected into his old job, the impulsive scion, ritualistic sit-downs, and mob negotiations which lead to inevitable conflict and the need to see therapy. In ancient mythology, mob drama isn’t too far off from how gods behaved — unbridled pettiness, strict adherence to duty, maudlin displays of spite, and plenty of disguises and scams. The heart of this all is, naturally: the family. Odin is a cross between Woody Allen and a neurotic Guy Ritchie mob boss, which I’m sure will appeal to some folks, but after 35 hours, I’m not one of them. It’s true that God of War’s characters (mostly Brok and Sindri) already established this anachronistic “what if ancient beings followed modern stereotypes” style, but Ragnarök The approach is grabbed by the neck. This is more an attack than an accentuation.

Like all art and entertainment, games reflect the cultural contexts and trends surrounding their development, and when there’s big money involved, it means, more often than not, following a path that has already proved effective for the bottom line. The other side of the story is that Sopranos-like undercurrents, RagnarökAlso channels the toned down antiheroic qualities of The Boys, spatters of aspirational Tarantino dialogue, and the frat pack era of filmmaking — the latter is evident in the character of Freyr, who, besides being a huge stoner, fails to show the blistering X-factor appeal that supposedly draws elves, dwarves, men, women, children, and stray dogs into his orbit. While some may delight at the banter when Thor shows up at Kratos’ house, it can feel a bit like eating reheated leftovers, albeit well-voiced ones. This isn’t a complaint about derivative media; all our stories are derivative. But how you do it matters — and when storytellers are generally too keen on remixing the hits without adding anything new, it means you have to work twice as hard to pull off a banger that still feels fresh and invigorating.

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

Watching Odin godboss, gaslight, and gatekeep his way to Atreus’ heart is pleasantly sadistic revenge for the squabbles that came before. It is fleetingly comical to see the hypochondriac Sindri get sneezed on, and the game leans hard into the dysfunctional family dinner trope, where a humble dining table becomes the focal point for the story’s big “what now?” moments. On the other hand, characterizing Thor’s drinking like a modern-day affliction feels incredibly forced; it is simply a weird choice to bring contemporary concepts of accountability and Alcoholics Anonymous vibes to a mythological world of gods. Odin’s obsession with his own fate, too, feels poorly thought out. You can’t just shoehorn modern sensibilities into Valhalla — even with the goal of making the gods relatable and “human” — and expect all of it to fit well. “It’s me, your entire economy, speaking,” Odin yells at the dwarves, in another overwritten callback to his mob boss characterization.

It is not easy to be aware of script structure, despite its pain. Ragnarök’s pacing is, at best, inconsistent. There’s a lot of filler and circular rambling — mostly on Atreus’ part — about what needs to be done to either avert or trigger Ragnarök. Atreus has the kind of endless questions that make parents smile. One thing is for sure: It does the job! The constant whining and hawing can be annoying and, in certain cases, it may make the entire situation seem more urgent and desperate. You will be reminded by NPCs to get off your feet and take a break before you continue the quest. But when the stakes are literally the end of the world and it’s already established that Odin has more eyes on you than a Ring doorbell, it doesn’t exactly make you want to run around and take in the scenery.

The frustrations that are engendered by this system could be the root of the problems. Ragnarök’s architecture as an “open-style” but non-open-world game. As in God of WarYou will eventually reach an end, but the main quest is really a series tunnels. Some of these sections seem interminable like Vanaheim or Svartalfheim. What’s more, some realms feel like assignments rather than exciting new places — NPCs shouldn’t have to explicitly tell me to be thrilled about exploring a locale. For such an enormous world that clearly prides itself on its scale and wonder, there are times when my adventure felt like an amusement park ride (there’s a flume-boat section that looks and feels just like Big Thunder Mountain Railroad) where I just wanted to careen off the rails. Some of the mechanics, like Atreus’ chain-reaction Sigil arrows, feel like they belong in a different, more creatively permissive game that lets you actually experiment with the environments. RagnarökAlthough it hints at interlocking systems deeper than that, it fails to act.

Even so, Alfheim is by far the most captivating realm, possibly because there’s just so much to do, and also because the Temple of Light seems visually inspired by Singapore’s Gardens by the Bay (upon seeing the non-hive-encrusted Lake of Souls, I immediately thought of this local landmark). The temple is one of my favorite environments, next to the earthy reds and ochres of Jotunheim’s flora (and how it plays with size and scale), which had me peeking around corners for Elden Ring’s Malenia. Asgard, though, remains a wasted cipher — there isn’t much room to explore, even though a huge part of Atreus’ story arc involves going there to do just that.

Image: SIE Santa Monica Studio/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

That being said, most of the side quests (known as Favors) are a lot more compelling than the main storyline, like Freya’s very personal mission to get closure from her forced marriage to Odin. I’ve always maintained that the real heart and soul of a game world can be found in side quests, if it has them, and Ragnarök is no different; there’s an especially engaging slow burn in the Vanaheim Crater area, where you get thrown a few crumbs about Kratos’ enigmatic late wife Laufey and her past. A fair amount of Favors involve cleaning up messes — again, back to the theme of accountability and making things right, or trying to leave something better than it was before.

This is a welcome departure from God of War, Ragnarök You can also experience different characters together for a limited time. Atreus has extremely strong synergies with a new character who I won’t spoil here. Atreus becomes a more mature, slightly wiser man when he reunites his father. It feels almost unfair that he is relegated back to the role of sidekick. But such is the power of the parental gaze — it makes sense to have Atreus inhibit himself around his father until dire circumstances call for dire actions. The big emotional gut punches in the story, when they do happen, do hurt (to be fair, I’m also someone who cries at cable television). The very last act of the game, where everything comes together and ties back to Kratos’ past and status as a god, felt like a bittersweet triumph for both father and son, and almost made up for all the times I wanted to knock their skulls together.

Despite all its faults, there are still moments of beauty. Ragnarök They are the true rulers. Mechanically speaking, the Aesir boss fights are all pretty much the same iterations of dodge, dip, duck, dive, and dodge — nothing to write home about, and more of a test of endurance and evasion than anything. One boss fight against Nidhogg captured my heart. It’s metal as hell: a full technicolor blast of adrenaline and visual flourish and great monster design that I would replay in a heartbeat. To be sure, there are other options. Ragnarök’s credit, a lot of very good dogs, and very purposefully weaponized uses of them.

Image: SIE Santa Monica/Sony Interactive Entertainment via Polygon

After watching for dozens upon countless hours Ragnarök’s characters struggle through a quasi-comical escalation of events — the kind of domino effect shitshow where one thing inadvertently sets off a chain reaction of mini-shitshows that nobody wanted to happen — it’s great to forget about fate and decorum, and simply feel content with the knowledge that everyone in this big, messy not-Marvel, not-SopranosThe production saw some promising signs of character development, at most enough to make the game a more enjoyable experience than its predecessor.

This isn’t a life-altering way to live. RagnarökThe game ends, but the pleasant feeling I get when it’s done is similar to what I feel from seeing a Marvel movie. Even where the game can be frustrating, rote, and uneven, it’s also safe and comforting, like a rerun of Cheers where everyone knows your name and you know that you’ll never get thrown out of the bar. God of War Ragnarök, as the sum of its many disparate and often conflicting parts and influences, isn’t here to reinvent the wheel. Its singular desire to imitate all of the great Hollywood stories will be its greatest weakness, but it will also continue to be an enduring source for success. And like many, many Hollywood success stories, it shouldn’t feel this weird to say that something of this scope and scale is just OK.

God of War Ragnarök The game will be available on PlayStation 5 on November 9th and PlayStation 4 on November 9. Sony Interactive Entertainment gave us a code to review the game on PS5 and we used it. Vox Media is an affiliate partner. Although these partnerships do not impact editorial content, Vox Media could earn commissions from products sold via affiliate links. Find out more. additional information about Polygon’s ethics policy here.