![]() When it embraces the bizarre, it’s at its best. These areas just lack the colour seen when Pikuniku deviates from this formula. Most of the puzzles aren’t all that wonderful, though, and are instead pretty standard fare: you push in switches to open doors, or stand on switches to open doors, or kick acorns onto switches to open doors. It’s like a trippy fever dream Neil Buchanan had after a particularly successful big art attack. The narrative races towards the finish line in the final third, and some of the enjoyable frivolity is sadly thrown by the wayside, but Pikuniku still maintains its silliness. A rhythm-action dance off at the nearby nightclub is welcome, because it precedes a battle with a giant, buzzsaw saw-wielding robot. This 2D puzzle-platformer does well to marry the absurd and the inspirational, having you play hide and seek with an anthropomorphic rock before joining the group looking to take down the property developer that’s negatively impacting your new pals. Sunshine’s intentions are shady, and the eccentric townsfolk are at risk of losing their homes. is promising ‘free money’ to the locals in exchange for their junk. Piku – a red, armless blob with legs – comes out of its cave to discover that a company called Sunshine Inc. And there’s an angry slice of toast in there, too. This is a story about how people can band together, and not accept what they’re fed by large corporations led by an evil, pink fluff ball in a top hat. Pikuniku isn’t about Daddy Pig’s family making an absolute tit of him at every opportunity, though. May’s plans to wreck their future, giggling at every offbeat noise they catch in the accompanying melody. ![]() The block colours, the simplistic design, the Looney Tune violence: it’s tailormade for a child to slap their hands together with gleeful ignorance, unaware of T. When it comes to Pikuniku, really hard to look past what, at first, appears to be an intensely saturated episode of Peppa Pig.
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