In recent years, my affection for Star Wars has been more up and down than a wild tauntaun rodeo ride. From the lowest dips with the ironically named Rise of Skywalker trilogy to the momentary highs of The Mandalorian and/or…Andor, we’ve suffered some whiplash. Now, after the abysmal Acolyte, symptoms are progressing to outright nausea as many OG fans are getting sick of the squandered potential of this universe.
Basically, me wishing for good odds on Outlaws being great felt like laser-brain levels of delusion—lower than successfully navigating an asteroid field (approximately 3,720 to 1).
Imagine my delight, then, when I reached the end credits with a smile on my dial and an eagerness to load back in. This scoundrel’s origin tale may have centered around a heist of 157 million in beskar, but what was actually stolen was my heart. Ubisoft Massive may not have pumped out perfection—the gaming equivalent of an Empire Strikes Back—but I’ll be damned if this isn’t approaching a Rogue One result.
And do you know what? That comparison works pretty well for tone and intent. Much like Gareth Edwards’ vision, Outlaws gravitates to the gritter underworlds and morally gray areas of this galaxy, notably eschewing the Force and sabers for backroom deals and a good blaster at your side, kid.
The basic idea is to meet Kay Vess, a cocky, scruffy-looking nerfherder, and upskill her from a wet-behind-the-ears wannabe on the lam into a worldly gender-bent Han Solo with a crew of bad arses. Yep, there’s a dash of Mass Effect 2 in here—travel to the weirdest parts of a galaxy, find and recruit some reprobates, and then take a run at a near-suicidal mission. Only this time there are a bunch more wrongfoots and plot twists.
eschewing the Force and sabers for backroom deals and a good blaster at your side, kid.
Because, hey, a death mark’s not an easy thing to live with during the chaotic year between Empire and ROTJ, so Kay will need to play a side game of shifting gangster allegiances. Though my popularity levels with four syndicates didn’t hugely affect the linear Act 3, I was mighty impressed with the variance it caused in terms of side missions, unique rewards geared to certain playstyles, and, ultimately, the replayability of this package overall.
I love that Ubisoft has force-choked the concept of XP, levels, and blaster-sponge enemies with numbers over their heads. What we have instead is a Doom (2016) system where you tick off in-game actions to acquire powerful perks, followed by sniffing out more to-dos and skills from Experts out in this properly vast, four-planet sandbox. Oh, and sometimes also the odd off-world Imperial locales, which feel like mini-Death Star infiltrations ripped out of A New Hope.
Kay’s abilities can be pleasingly inched into the playstyle of your choice. She also keeps one highly customisable/upgradeable pistol at her side, which constantly Swiss Army Knifes into greater firepower or new means to nullify the defenses of special enemy types. This is decent cover-hopping gunplay with the added challenge of leading your shots (because lasers). I also dug its fluidity—be a ninja, a punchy brawler, or a bold AF blaster-slinger who solves “boring conversations” with a multi-foe instakill mechanic.
Speaking of, I adore the fast-talking skill, one of the few new elements that prevents the moment-to-moment gameplay from being a facsimile called “Uncharted: Honor Among Space Thieves.” How does it work? If you’re ever spotted infiltrating an outpost a’la Far Cry—typically via vanilla platforming, been-there grapple hooking, and listen mode cheatery—you still have options. Time will slow, R3 can be clicked, and Kay will stall the alarm with sheer bullshit and a well-placed stun blast. It never gets old.
Another inclusion I dig is Nix, Kay’s command-able, axolotl-esque pal. He’s not hugely innovative, but is certainly useful in the puzzles department (by basically being a long, stretchy arm to manipulate out-of-reach things). I liked him more for just being adorable, plus his ability to lure off patrolling Imps or attack them outright to create a window for you to superman punch fools fair in the helmet.
Kay does a lot of this; yet more proof that Stormtrooper armour is bloody useless against Ewoks and people who don’t even know Teräs Käsi.
Speaking of bloody useless, I really didn’t like how many of Kay’s blaster settings had to be “switched on/off” via some distant workbench and not in the field. You’d best hope you’ve selected the right settings to have on your quick-switch toggle for Plasma (regular laser death), Ion (thwart electrics/shields), and Power (charge-explodey goodness).
Stormtrooper armour is bloody useless against Ewoks and people who don’t even know Teräs Käsi.
This feeling of having reduced pew-pew options gets compounded by Kay being convinced that any great rifle she finds ought to be discarded quicker than a cursed Sith dagger. It’s like, hey, cool sniper rifle and/or grenade launcher I’ve just fou–oh, Kay just entered a vent and she’s ditched it. Later on that might be, oh wow, what a great shield gun and/or iconic E-11 blaster I scored! Wait… where is it? Huh. Kay…left it back at the base of that small ladder.
Why?! It’s such an overtly game-y thing that is at complete odds with the pragmatism and resourcefulness of this character. And the annoyance of this arbitrary auto-drop might be easier to swallow if Kay’s own pistol was something more satisfying—a new signature equivalent of Han’s DL-44 or Katarn’s Bryar. Sadly, not; in fact, it’s a bit of a peashooter for a few hours.
And while we’re on the topic of odd decisions, it’s weird that a Kay in transit can only kill other speederbike riders via the aforementioned quick-draw mechanic. You know, as opposed to good old fashioned free aim drive-bys.
I got so sick of peering behind me, slowing time to pick targets, killing them, and then eating absolute shit in an unintentional dismount as the camera reset. This got so troublesome, I simply resorted to outrunning my pursuers, a tactic I then replicated during the Rogue Leader-lite dogfights out in orbit.
The latter is quite a shame, too, as while Outlaws sure ain’t No Man’s Sky, it nails that intoxicating illusion of breaking through a stratosphere into asteroid fields or a weird icy orbit phenomenon. I quickly became houseproud of my EML 850 ‘Trailblazer’ light freighter, like I once did the Ebon Hawk, Stinger Mantis, and Outrider.
That really is one of the greatest strengths of this package—truly feeling like you are some tiny cog in some larger world(s). And I was careful not to say “a larger Star War” there, because another major pro is Kay’s refreshing indifference to the plight of those goodie-two-shoes Rebels, thanks to a bad introduction to them.
Ultimately, that “grounded, down in the muck” approach is what drew me to this game, and what kept me happy during my 15 hours of main campaign time (very much beelined through). Outlaws may not innovate massively upon its obvious inspirations—in this case Uncharted, Far Cry, and ideas from other Ubisoft stablemates—but it’s a more than serviceable jack-of-all-trades. Go into this starry-eyed, expecting the next big leap in open-world action-adventuring, and it’s not going to astromech your day.
Make no mistake, though: this is one gorgeous and expansive multi-world that’s absolutely brimming with minute detail, scoundrel swagger, and an obvious obsession with replicating that f’ed up cantina patina of ‘80s era Star Wars. Just typing about it now makes me want to fire it up again to go spend probably a dozen more hours doing my best interstellar Yojimbo—playing mobsters off one another for the creds and sheer satisfaction of it.
That’s the power of well-written characters, sumptuous lived-in locales, occasionally-great action, and organic progression that defies the usual Ubi-game design. If all that sounds like your space jam, then make the calculations and set course for what is one heck of a good base from which to build a new empire. Because this concept, right here—a Jedi-less open-world Star War—is strong enough to pull the ears off a gundark and continue into a franchise.
