A world-first hands-on with Jett: The Far Shore, as Superbrothers’ sci-fi adventure prepares for lift-off

By Chris Schilling

The pull of the unknown is powerful indeed. But the excitement of setting off on a new adventure is often tinged with sadness: every departure means leaving something, or someone, behind. It’s hard to imagine a scenario where that could be more pronounced than a journey into space, not least when it’s clear the goodbye is going to be permanent. The new game from Sword & Sworcery creator Superbrothers, made in collaboration with Pine Scented Software, hits you with that just a minute or two in. Looking through the eyes of protagonist Mei, you step out of a yurt to a sea of faces, at once sombre yet expectant, all looking directly at you. Beyond mum, dad and older sister lies the low-altitude vehicle of the title, the one you will pilot for much of your journey. The urge to start your journey is strong. But you’re also made to feel the wrench of leaving.

Then you clamber up a ladder into the cockpit and it feels as if a weight has been lifted. Your diminutive Jett is an incredibly nippy and agile craft, as you soon discover during a training exercise which lets you get to grips with its handling before you head for the cosmodrome from where you leave your cradle world behind.

On screen the vehicle looks tiny, the camera pulled back to offer a thrilling widescreen view of your surroundings: an appetite whetter for the landscapes you’ll discover in the hours to come. But before you arrive, there’s a truly electrifying launch sequence, set to a piece of music by Jim Guthrie (his sole contribution to the soundtrack) in which the roar of rockets and soaring synths build to a Hans Zimmer-beating crescendo that all but lifts us out of our seat. Deftly establishing the game’s heady blend of the expansive and the intimate, it’s an intro for the ages –a spine-tingling moment that feels more suited to an IMAX screen than our modest PC monitor.

Game Jett:TheFar Shore Developer/publisher Superbrothers, Pine Scented Software Format PC, PS4, PS5 Release 2021

But then Craig D Adams and Patrick McAllister – the two-person team that first conceived and has since developed much of the game – have had plenty of time to think about that opening. Jett: The Far Shore has taken a long while to get off the ground. In its embryonic form, in fact, it existed before Sword & Sworcery took over Adams’ life and put his pseudonym Superbrothers on the map. The two previously worked together at Koei Canada, where McAllister was a programmer and Adams a CG designer on the interestingly flawed futuristic racer Fatal Inertia. Which, perhaps surprisingly, provided the initial spark of inspiration.

“The idea of a pulled-back shot with a jet leaving a trail was there from 2007, probably,” Adams tells us. “While I was developing the camera style for trailers and things, I [imagined] another type of videogame that doesn’t exist that I would really like to play.” Looking at the footage from that more distant viewpoint, he began to imagine a snowboarding game or some alternative racer viewed from a similar perspective, and how those games could be taken in a more narrative-led direction. “There’s some variety in the racing genre, but you don’t often see a videogame with those kind of vehicular action chops going after a kind of Fumito Ueda type of action-adventure experience.”

It’s the second time in as many months we’ve had developers nod toward Shadow Of The Colossus, though its influence here is more on the mood than mechanics. As we speed across this new world to Andrew ‘Scntfc’ Rohrmann’s score – by turns evoking feelings of whimsical discovery and otherworldly awe – we’re reminded of those long, lonely rides between battles. Except here we’re not alone. Mei’s amiable co-pilot Isao is a constant companion, at least for these early hours, passing on instructions and chipping in with observations and the occasional earnest pronouncement. “A people reborn, in Ghoke’s dim glow,” he says grandly, referring to the vast pink-red planet looming ominously in the eastern sky.

He’s with us for all those crucial firsts, such as the initial descent to the planet, where we deploy chutes and jettison the shell with which we breach its atmosphere. And he’s with us as we limp along to solid ground, our ship’s scramjets disabled until we finally touch down and recharge them. Here we’re invited to alight, the camera pivoting to a top-down view as it rapidly drops to ground level; then we’re back inside Mei’s suit, feeling gravity’s tug once more in the weight of her movement.

Even with the ability to sprint by holding the right trigger, her feet feel heavy, each footstep communicated through rumble feedback and the gentle jog of the camera.