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Big Walk review – larking around with mates elevated to an artform

Switch 2, PlayStation 5, PC; House HouseThe creators of Untitled Goose Game return with an online, open-world adventure that delivers slapstick silliness and bucolic majesty in nearly equal measure

Radiant sunsets glinting on lapping waves; bushland valleys that beckon with secrets; modernist buildings sat atop craggy ridges: Big Walk’s setting is as arresting as it is beguiling – a kind of architectural fever dream transplanted to a handsome Australian wilderness – but it is the images created by players that lodge deepest in the mind. Here’s one that has stuck with me: in the black of night, cicadas kicking up an almighty din, I had lost my partner. Panic. Despair. Fear. Then, there in the far distance, I saw him signalling in my direction. He was relentlessly spamming a gigantic, ball-shaped lamp on and off, the ground around him flicking from inky dark to warm pastel pink and back again, like a single Christmas light blinking from afar.

Big Walk review – House House's collaborative puzzle quest takes the hangout game to a new peak

What is Big Walk, exactly? It's a simple game, really, but explaining what's special about it is a little more complicated. For starters, you might wonder if the latest game from Melbourne-based House House is anything like its breakthrough. Well, it certainly shares the gleeful devilment of its biggest hit. There are no geese here, though your colourful avatars do have a somewhat birdlike quality; big or small, that nose is slightly beakish. It's equally smart in the way it wields its silliness, similarly playful and exuberant, and stuffed with innumerable delightful little touches. Otherwise, it's not much like Untitled Goose Game at all.

Big Walk Is for the Italians

Growing up as a kid with a rebellious streak, there was a time in my life when I tried to resist my Italian heritage. My father was born in Abruzzo, and I was always close to Italian culture as a result, but I spent years trying to distance myself from it. It was a futile resistance. I couldn’t help but absorb cultural quirks from my father and his friends. I never realized that until the first time someone noted how much I talk with my hands. I felt like a walking stereotype at the time, but I’ve since come to embrace the theatrical way I communicate. Nothing emphasizes your frustration like an impassioned flick of the wrists.

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