
You get this fuzzy, imprecise safety net to fall back on, and it's not quite as satisfying. It leads to some new challenges, sure, but it breaks that one-tap immediacy of the early levels. That sheen is slightly tainted by the second lot of levels, where Rayman can use his helicopter-like hair to momentarily float mid-jump.


That's something that comes into especially sharp focus on the unlockable Land of the Livid Dead stages, where simply getting to the finish line is challenge enough. Those rare successful runs are euphoric explosions of satisfaction, as retrying a level 20 times finally pays off. It's a sweaty palm, white knuckle thrill to be applying those lessons, and nailing every jump just as memorised. Your second (or third, or fourth, or 17th) attempt will then be a well-orchestrated, well-choreographed dance, expertly informed by every failed attempt that came before it. You'll need to know the timing of every trap, which jumps to make and which to avoid, and the very moment a slide is going to break off into a pit of thorny vines. So while your first run-through will certainly test your wits and reflexes, the next time you play - this time, on the hunt for 100 golden Lums - you'll need to learn the layout of the level. Our loose-limbed hero Rayman automatically dashes from left to right, and your only real control is to tap the screen to make him leap or to spring off walls.īut, unlike the infinite and randomly generated layouts of your typical endless-runner, Rayman's 40 levels are hand-crafted, 30-second-long stages. So, at first glance, it might look a bit like Canabalt. Unlike most platformers and endless-runners it's not so much about sharp reflexes as it is about learning the rhythm and timing of the stages.

Playing Rayman Jungle Run is like performing a complicated piece of music.
