You start off with a pistol but soon move to more weapons. Later, the game tests your platforming and wall-jumping skills by laying a series of electrified traps. There are also barrels to ride and gas canisters you can blow up in mid-air, and you can even kick the severed heads of enemies into their comrades. At times you’ll also run across a frying pan that you can kick skyward, and shooting makes it comically bounce in the air as it reflects bullets at your foes. Reflective panels appear later, allowing you to redirect bullets into enemies from a distance. The game staves off repetition by constantly offering tools, tricks, and environmental challenges. In the game, you can knock over tables for cover, slide down zip lines, wall jump, roll around like Samus, and occasionally ride a skate board that you can heel kick into people’s domes. Luckily, My Friend Pedro throws a lot of ideas into the mix. It wouldn’t take long before the feeling of “been there, done that” sank in. However, if the game leaned only on bullet time, that enjoyment would probably fizzle out. After all, there’s no reason to change the recipe if it hasn’t gotten boring, and My Friend Pedro won’t leave you snoozing. No, My Friend Pedro doesn’t stray far from the predictable formula, but that’s not necessarily a point against it. Psychedelic scenes where it seems the protagonist may have gotten dunked in a vat of drugs? Check and double check. A murderous symphony of blood, gore, and gunfire set to the tune of an ’80s synth soundtrack? Oh, it’s in there. A masked silent protagonist who receives constant hints about his forgotten past? We got that. You can almost view it as a list of necessities at this point. Indeed, the game is breathtakingly straightforward but rich with that special weirdness that publisher Devolver Digital loves. When foes stray too close, you can send them packing with a swift kick to the teeth. You run through a grungy, 2D world mowing down enemies with a multitude of weapons. Instead, the game places you in the blood-caked shoes of a man keen to slaughter thousands of dudes at the bidding of a talking banana, Pedro, who may or may not be all in your head. Of course, My Friend Pedro doesn’t waste time pondering the value of its primary mechanic. When will bad guys learn not to stand with their backs turned to windows? Goin’ bananas
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