I’m not a big anime guy.
That’s not just because I see a lot of Twitter harassment from random dudes with anime avatars either. I’ve just never really been able to get into most of the stuff I’ve watched. There’s a… disconnect that I can’t seem to get over, a method of storytelling that always seems to lend itself to overly introspective and wordy characters, capped off with a pace that seems comparable to that of continental drift. There are exceptions, of course, but as far as any other medium using the anime aesthetic as a way to appeal to one’s nostalgia, my buttons go largely unpushed.
That’s probably why I held off for so long on playing Galak-Z, knowing that it mostly played in that space, using an 80s style episodic framing device for its story. As it turns out, my fears were partially unfounded. Despite the format, the whole narrative and presentation of such are a very very thin window dressing, as if almost trying to hide the fact that Galak-Z is, at its core, an unforgiving rogue-like. The melding of the two works well enough, resulting in something undeniably unique, though there are moments where the anime gets a tad overwhelming, mostly notably in the fact that every single character is a chatterbox, refusing to let a moment of silence hit the air for more than a few seconds.
Still, considering my natural aversion to the influences, combined with my general disinterest in space settings, I had more fun with Galak-Z than I probably had any right too, readily jumping back into a mission that I’d already failed a handful of times, knowing I’d be forced to start back at the square one. Perhaps that’s the greatest compliment I can give the game. It put me in a position to enjoy something I typically wouldn’t.