A masterclass in theory over execution it may have been, but we still have a special place in our hearts for Scribblenauts. Any game where Cthulu is only ever a few taps on a virtual keyboard away or a pesky chasm can be traversed by filling it with guitars is okay by us, even though the idea of drawing solutions to puzzles into existence turned out not to be entirely without flaws. All-powerful items more or less broke all bar the most specific challenges – manoeuvrability tasks could be cheated every time with a jetpack, while God could smite just about any foe. And conversely, the best-laid plans often ended in disaster as objects broke for no good reason, items defied physics and glitched themselves broken, and all your hard work gluing things together literally came unstuck all too often.

But while the first Scribblenauts was more a stupidly entertaining experiment than an actual game, 5th Cell is doing its level best to ensure the follow-up functions on both levels. The first aspect to be addressed – and necessarily so – is the overall control. Many struggled with the original’s slippery Maxwell and the horrible, vague stylus controls that governed his frustrating movement, so this time he’ll be directly controlled with a combination of D-pad and stylus controls. The camera will also put up less opposition than it once did, the insistence upon zooming back to Maxwell impatiently after only a second or two removed to offer more planning time and freedom in scoping out levels before you get stuck in. And when you do eventually bust out the lexicon and start drawing things into existence, there’s a whole world of new potential laying in wait.

Adjectives. Lovely, helpful, awesome adjectives. As handy as they are in day-to-day life, they’re an absolute game-changer in Maxwell’s curious world. What this basically means is that there now exist countless permutations for each individual object, and that the scope for puzzle solving is off the charts. Where a regular clown is likely to get mauled by a roaming dinosaur, a giant angry metal clown will probably fare much better. Similarly, detrimental aspects of certain objects can be downplayed or even removed entirely with the right prefix – a dragon will mess you up if you summon a regular one, but try adding words like ‘docile’ or ‘friendly’ on the front of its name and there’s every chance you’ll be able to call in a few favours. This new factor changes Scribblenauts in such a monumental way that it’s difficult to see it //not// fall foul of the same kind of exploits that plagued the original. Should words like ‘invincible’ or ‘almighty’ work then there’d be little that could stand in the way of even the smallest (invulnerable, rabid) flea.

… continued