
Singing lifts objects, builds bridges, and eventually solves increasingly complex audio puzzles.Īs you set off on your journey into this unknown land, you pass buildings with ghostly black figures pressed up against windows. It immediately becomes clear that singing (or humming or whistling) manipulates objects in the game world. The character animations match up your inputs almost precisely: it sings when you sing, its mouth opens and it tilts its head back. Your character is pink with big, dopey eyes – almost like a cartoon ghost – donned with a green scarf around its neck. Unless you’re a streamer, a microphone isn’t always (or even usually) an essential to playing games. I can’t think of the surprise I would have felt during this first moment if I hadn’t already been streaming with my microphone connected. The game instructs you to sing at your lowest comfortable range, which then calibrates which notes the game will request from you. Its at this point that the game mechanics make themselves known. A singular street lamp breaks the illusion, like a beacon that implies to you, “hey, this way is forward.”

It feels like a melancholy city that recently experienced rainfall. The dim palette of blues and greys in the background nicely blends between your character and the world. Your character then emerges from a kind of energy cloud, enshrouded in pastel colors that breeze by you, lighting the sky with peach, pink, and orange wind. The contrast between your innocent looking character and this uncanny monstrosity inspires a brief moment of dread about what’s to come. This blob monster runs past, reminding me of the climax to Inside. This peaceful introduction of your character is met with something rather disturbing: a massive blob with a million legs. Atmosphere acts in context as a narrator. What is this world? Who is this character? In some sense, as a player, you aren’t worried about answering those questions because the raw novelty and beauty are captivating. You are dropped into a world swirling with atmosphere and intrigue, something deeply reminiscent of how Journey brings you through a staggeringly beautiful, mostly peaceful, and at all times mysterious world.

It’s certainly unique, engaging and pleasantly presented, and I’m keen to see more of its narrative and the unusual gameplay opportunities as its development progresses.One Hand Clapping combines unexpected gameplay mechanics, lore, and surprisingly silent storytelling.


The one shame right now is that One Hand Clapping is an incredibly short experience, with only the first level being playable in Early Access – though that’s reflected in its £2.49 price. It’s not a game to play around other people though – unless they want to hear you poorly holding the same notes for any length of time. It’s such a cool, if niche, set-up and if the soundtrack can support it I could see myself really getting into the swing of things. The soundtrack accompanying you is ambient and relaxed, and later on when you’re singing refrains back to a floating flower lady, you follow the beat in order to know when it’s your turn to sing. I can really see the seeds of something unique here, and I’m sure that the developers will be aiming to wring every ounce of potential out of the possibilities it affords. I know I gave a little chuckle every time I did anything new in this early portion of the game, and there’s a real sense of discovery and newness that you wouldn’t expect from a weary old genre like the 2D platformer. It’s strange, but it manages to also be fun. There are also flowers that will only bloom if you sing the right note, opening up to provide a jumping platform, while bigger devices appear that you have to sing a certain phrase, a bit like a musical Simon Says. Where there are areas that your little guy can’t simply jump up or across, you’re able to sing a platform into existence that they can walk on. You use your voice to solve the puzzles put in front of you, helping your little purple singer move across the landscape.
