At the risk of sounding like a continuation of the points raised regarding Vividlope, the thing with nostalgia -- and why some developers may latch onto specific referrals to past joys more than others -- is that it isn’t all surface level. Sure you can praise a game’s art-style, visuals and presentation for being reminiscent of what's come before; the way it may or may not be actively honing in on that more rose-tinted of recollections. To have you remember just how much you loved playing this or that game at a yonder period. "Well did you know we’re just like that game," the pitch will in all likelihood conclude, "...so you’ll love this too, right?" There’s stock in appealing to the child in us all -- to the games we specifically grew up on. But while there's a tendency to rely simply on how something comparatively looks, it's better still when we're drawing comparisons not just through visuals, but in structure. Specifically, the admirable and methodical nature of level design. And to a game like Gravity Circuit's credit: how it identifies said element without feeling too much like hollow imitation. Something with which is immediately identifiable and easy to latch onto with all the respect that comes with it.

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It doesn't take a genius to work out exactly what series of games Gravity Circuit is evoking. 2D platforming, robotic characters, a protagonist who can absorb the abilities of the end-level bosses it beats. The arm cannon-wielding hero may have had its main color palette swapped from blue to red, but need I even mutter its name? Well technically I do, but only because it offers some insight into why Gravity Circuit successfully manages to sidestep the risk of doubling-down on nostalgia from a more personal standpoint. I recently went back and played some of the old Mega Man games (there's the name-drop) out of curiosity on two things. First: were the levels as challenging to tackle after years of a lapsed memory? Second: was said challenge due to how cleverly said levels were designed and structured so as to both test and trip up a player's skills alike? Many a death and accompanying swear word later, the conclusion that yes, the level design of early Mega Man games still, decades on, holds up. Somewhat embarrassing it is to concede the early segment of Gutsman's stage in the original Megaman still gets the better of me.

Even from as a brief a demo as Gravity Circuit is -- two specifically-themed levels on show -- the first thought isn't so much in a similar vain to something like 30XX, how unapologetically Megaman-like it feels, right down to the comical and uncanny way your character transitions between rooms. But moreso how it tackles the philosophy of platforming as a two-fold test of wits. A challenge set by the game itself, but also a challenge inadvertently set by players on themselves. That latter test being simple in theory, but a lot harder in practice: try not to get too overconfident. Because for every sequence of jumps or every destructible object or part of the environment, Gravity Circuit is there -- primed and ready to trip you up. Not through some seemingly-mandatory requirement to be unfair to its players, but to relinquish that feeling of safety by punishing you for not paying attention. For not, like the best Megaman entrants, deducing the correct sequence of timing and movement.

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While much of this ordeal is down to hostiles themselves -- their bevvy of projectiles, melee strikes and out-of-shot pounces to avoid -- there isn't much in Gravity Circuit that can't be worked out if you pause for a moment and read what's in front of you. One example, the primary "gimmick" of one of its two levels, being to avoid streams of molten metal. Some activated upon you tripping a sensor, others meanwhile acting on a loop -- requiring not just a brisk pace, but a memory on when and where those deadly streams are likely to pop up. It's the kind of perilous challenge where you almost feel like you're running on autopilot at the point of instigation -- muscle memory taking hold as you make those required number of leaps or moves. Only to then wrestle back control from such automation, when you suddenly realize Gravity Circuit is aptly waiting, ready to trip you up with something you should've seen coming, but didn't.

It's a costly, more punishing breed of platforming. One whose enemy hits and deadly pitfalls will eat at that precious health bar in no time at all. And while you can naturally regain that lost health at various checkpoints dotted about these levels, the concern over one's survival wouldn't be as prevalent were it not for the ongoing, albeit optional, temptations. Hidden paths that may or may not reward you with vital currency, optional NPCs to rescue that lay stranded on some nearby platform or at the end of a perilous high-risk route. Easy as it may be to conclude this brand of platforming is nothing new, Gravity Circuit at least knows precisely the right time to ask its players the crucial question: are you actually paying attention? When it comes to side-scrollers or platformers confined to two dimensions, though good level design is where a sense of peril and challenge can be identified, great level design is that which you can't until it's too late.

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Ignoring the fact that destroying that cracked wall will also cause the ground you're standing on to break. Knowing when to rely on a simple repeated pattern of jumps and when to break that cycle to avoid a potential danger. It's these simple, minute details that separate developers into two groups: those who understand the art of level design and those who don't. Nostalgia is all well and good in this genre, providing you can prove to your potential audience that you recognize that fond memories aren't always exclusively art and visual-based. It's enough of an admiration in what Gravity Circuit is demonstrating thus far to ignore (for the most part) that which remains questionably unconvincing in its application by contrast.

The command input-based abilities you can administer, something that feels implemented for implementation's sake and nothing more. Made less appealing when platforming is so demanding of precision, that said abilities end up getting in the way more than they do feel in any way helpful. Ignorable move-sets aside, though, Gravity Circuit so clearly speaks not just to the raised-on-platformers child in me (and perhaps many others), but so too to one's current self. Someone with an appreciation not just for great level design, but smart level design on top. Gravity Circuit gets why series like Megaman have achieved their lofty status and it makes for the kind of upcoming platformer I want to play more of.