Q.U.B.E. Director’s Cut Review

Developer Toxic Games’ Q.U.B.E. originally released on Steam in 2011, but thanks to the help of publisher Grip Games, recently landed itself a definitive edition of sorts. The new Director’s Cut version of the game ups the ante with enhanced visuals, a reworked soundtrack and narrative, and a 10-level time trial mode. All of this is supported by a fistful of new trophies, achievements and leaderboard ranks.

Of course, all the remastered trappings and finery in the world wouldn’t count for much without a foundation. Fortunately, Q.U.B.E. has hardly changed from a gameplay perspective. It’s a first-person puzzler based around a pair of gloves capable of manipulating colored blocks in the game’s otherwise unnaturally sterile levels.

The game’s aesthetic is just as striking as it was four years ago. Crisp edges, high contrast and the eponymous cube motif make for ethereal environments. The occasional pulsating hallway ripped straight from a carnival fun house bring things ever closer to M.C. Escher’s unmistakably backward style. Things are further spiced up by dark rooms which allow you to selectively illuminate objects, and it’s all carried by a soundtrack comprising fantastical and thumping tunes.

The visuals work well with the game’s simple level design, clearly indicating the key elements of each puzzle with a splash of color. Puzzles operate on a system of cubes: red can be extended outward up to three spaces; blue can be retracted and then used as a one-off bounce pad; one-by-three grids of yellow can be extended in three different arrangements; the wild card green is the only one not tied to a wall; and purple squares can be used to rotate modular sections of levels.

It’s a mouthful of mechanics that only becomes more unruly when you add in such puzzler staples as laser and perspective manipulation. Ironically, Q.U.B.E. keeps things from getting overwhelming by telling you absolutely nothing. There isn’t a speck of tutorial or instruction to be found, a design decision that is at once necessary and brilliant.

Human beings learn best through experience. That’s why it’s infinitely easier to get the hang of a new job than it is to memorize a paragraph. So, it’s only natural that, rather than hit players upside the head with reams of text, Q.U.B.E. has the sense to let them figure things out for themselves. New colors are introduced at a healthy pace, and in a way that lets you experiment with their applications. After a few basic levels, you’ll have accumulated the knowledge necessary to take on more intricate machinations. And you’ll have done it entirely on your own.

This do-it-yourself approach helps prevent information overload. Colors become synonymous with their function, so it’s easy to start theorizing after taking in a new level. Without that working knowledge, late-game tasks like assigning colors to blocks yourself and designing paths for free-roaming spheres would be incredibly daunting. Instead, they’re just more tests to be conquered.

Things are further grounded by the game’s first-person perspective, which complements the frequent platforming sections and the use of real-time physics. The sum of all this is remarkably organic presentation. This is only truer for the behind-the-scenes levels set within the decaying bowels of the massive cube that the overarching narrative so frequently alludes to.

Indeed, there is a story behind all the brain-bending. You, an amnesia-stricken man by the name of Jonathan Burns, have to save the world by solving puzzles inside a giant cube that’s hurtling toward Earth. Don’t ask me how it came to that. Don’t ask the game either, because it never gets around to explaining it. It’s a quirky premise to say the least, but well executed, in no small part owing to the superb voice work for the part of Commander Novac, who relays the gravity of your situation when she and her satellite orbit within range.

It sounds simple, but the gaps in Novac’s dialogue are actually integral to the story. They establish intervals of progression, regularly reminding you of how long it’s been since you last heard from her while simultaneously reiterating the importance of all the block-shifting. But the core of Q.U.B.E.’s narrative lies in the ramblings of another, nameless character.

Not wishing to spoil, I will say this: Q.U.B.E. plays with the truth that we get by on distrust. It’s why we lock our doors when we leave home, put our bags in our glove box when we park and bring our laptops with us when we go to the bathroom at the library. We frequently assume the worst and will usually side with pessimism when faced with a lack of evidence, especially if we feel threatened. Some of the game's writing is undeniably contrived, but it all comes together in a satisfyingly climactic revelation. More than an excuse to drive the puzzles, the bridging narrative is genuinely engaging.

Some questionable dialogue aside, Q.U.B.E.’s biggest problem is its infatuation with precision. See, the lovely thing about puzzles is that, once you find their solution, you can easily complete them. They are a test of intellect and reasoning, not skill. Puzzles are physically easy to complete but mentally difficult to solve. This isn’t always the case with Q.U.B.E., which sometimes insists on pixel-perfect timing in the execution of solutions. This is never more prominent than during what the game's trophies call its hardest puzzle, which is little more than an exercise in fiddling. It’s no more puzzling than getting a couch through a door, but it is every bit as annoying.

And while I’m on the subject, I should bring up a surprising but, I feel, incredibly important annoyance: Q.U.B.E. made me physically ill every time I played it for more than an hour. Ordinarily, I would slap that sort of hyperbolic criticism on shovelware that is simply too bad for words. So I was understandably confused when I legitimately had to stop playing for fear of giving my sink a bold redecoration.

Full disclaimer: This has never happened before. I do not get headaches and have never been prone to sea or motion sickness, or even general dizziness. However, I do have abnormally large and unstable pupils which are sensitive to high contrast images. I can only assume that Q.U.B.E.’s sharply contrasting aesthetic, coupled with its stop-go movement, rubbed some part of my brain the wrong way. I won’t hold my weird eyes against the game, but I would caution the visually impaired to be mindful of this potentially bothersome side-effect.

Back to normal critique: The time trials included in the Director’s Cut edition are, as expected, counterintuitive. Puzzles and time trials just don’t mix. The only way to approach them is to fail until you figure out the solution, then ace them in a fraction of the allotted time, which completely obviates the time limit. Racing for a new record is boring for the same reason. The many secret puzzles tucked into the core game are far more enjoyable.