Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice is the best Batman game to not feature Batman

Batman: Arkham Asylum released over twelve years ago. I still have fond memories of booting up the original Xbox 360 and slipping into a dreamlike flow of counters, stuns, dodges and gadgets as the dark knight himself. When its successor Batman: Arkham City came out two years later, I lost hours to its combat challenges, seeing how flawlessly I could weave between foes, knocking them down one after the other like bowling pins in the world’s shortest alley. It’s a basic combat formula that’s been iterated upon tremendously in games like Marvel’s Spiderman, allowing the player to chew through groups of criminals without feeling overwhelmed.

However, having beaten Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (and desperately wanting a sequel) I can’t push away a single thought: Batman: Arkham Asylum’s revolutionary combat system, as excellent as it is, doesn’t make you feel like Batman.

The series’ stealth segments do a slightly better job, forcing you to jump from perch to perch like some kind of nocturnal predator, silent as a snow-owl as you descend on your prey and clear the room through a mixture of clever gadgetry and resourcefulness. The actual beatdowns, though? They make you feel like you’re directing a Batman movie. You’re guiding the caped crusader through a series of elaborate counterstrikes and environmental takedowns that flow like grimdark silk.

True, such a performance might seem effortless to the viewer, but should being Batman feel effortless? I feel like this system forgets one of the most interesting things about Batman as a hero, something that sets him apart from his contemporaries. No, it’s not the nipple-suits and repressed trauma – it’s the fact that he’s just a guy.

The Arkham series’ combat and stealth systems, while both fully realized and great to play, create a sort of tactile dissonance by splitting the game into its two halves. If the presence of guns is dangerous enough to flatten the caped crusader in moments, then why can he breeze through these burly scoundrels so easily when they’re carrying lead pipes? One moment you’re borderline omnipotent, the next you’re forced into the shadows.

The grappling hook: who wore it better?

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice is another game wherein the yin and yang of stealth and combat gameplay is utilized, but instead of being opposed to one another they work in bloody harmony. Getting stealth takedowns will make combat encounters easier, but you’re not instagibbed for choosing to go in firecrackers blazing. Stealth instead becomes a tool in your utility belt, a practical way to improve your odds rather than a binary switch between gameplay styles. When the game does finally force you to duke it out against an equal, it asks you for mastery.

I adore Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice’s boss fights because they train you to think like a swordsman. The posture system forces you to stay on the offensive while your relative fragility asks you to always keep a palm on the hilt of defence. Fights play out like a rhythm game as you parry strings of attacks, answering deadly thrusts with dodge-towards and sweeps with jumps. You’re vulnerable but not helpless, skilled but not immortal, and when you finally fall into a flow state? You feel like you’ve overcome your normality and become something greater.

I think this feeling is so well-expressed because you put in the work. Sekiro and its soulsborne cousins often begin with a lot of frustration, but their carefully-constructed combat systems make these challenges surmountable with patience. With a mixture of cleverness, quickness and grit you can stand toe to toe with legendary warriors and horrifying creatures – which is exactly what Batman is known for. Swap out Sengoku-era Japan for Gotham City, the sword for martial arts, and the prosthetic gadgets for a toolbelt, and you’ve got yourself an excellent Batman game.

It might be difficult to sell that initial difficulty curve; after all, should the dark knight be taking a dirt nap ten to twenty times before finally besting Clayface? I think you could work around this by making him new to it. I’d love a Batman: Year One game where he’s still figuring out the best way to tackle these urban brawls and dangerous supervillains; imagine duking it out with Killer Croc, knowing that his strikes can flatten you just like the Guardian Ape. Picture a duel with Ra’s al Ghul that plays out like your rematch against Genichiro Ashina, testing the skills you’ve been building as a martial artist rather than prompting you with boss-specific mechanics. If a street brawl with the Joker’s goons becomes a potentially deadly encounter then so be it – it’ll just make breezing through them in the late-game all the more impressive.

You could even reskin deaths to be a part of Batman’s planning process. Bite it to some mook with a switchblade? You’ll get sent back to the last perch you were brooding on with a coy ‘that wouldn’t work, I should take a different approach.’ Just like Sekiro, your martial toolkit would improve as you progressed, unlocking new counters, strategies and items. It’d be grueling to get there, but I don’t think the caped crusader’s training regimen is particularly pleasant for him, either.

Ultimately I just want to play a Batman game where I feel like cardboard. This is primarily because I’m a weird masochist, but it’s also because I feel like Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice got us the closest to a Batman experience that really makes you feel like a powerless badass, performing heroic feats not because you hit the B button when a big counter icon appeared, but because you were determined, clever and agile enough to punch way above your weight class, just like the B-man himself.