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Let me be honest with you—when I first heard about Tales of Kenzera: ZAU, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. I’ve played my fair share of Metroidvanias over the years, from Hollow Knight to Ori and the Blind Forest, and I’ve come to appreciate the genre’s delicate balance between exploration, combat, and storytelling. But there’s a nagging question that stuck in the back of my mind as I started playing: Does this game rise to the heights its inspirations achieved? After spending around 15 hours exploring its world, I’ve come to a conclusion: not quite, but it gets remarkably close. And honestly, that’s more than enough for me to recommend it.

The premise alone is what pulled me in. You step into the shoes of Zau, a young shaman grappling with the loss of his father. It’s a story within a story—a tale crafted by a father for his son before the father’s own passing. That meta-layer adds so much emotional weight. Zau, desperate and grieving, makes a pact with Kalunga, the god of death: bring three powerful spirits to the afterlife, and Kalunga will resurrect Zau’s father. It’s a simple but powerful setup, and it’s one I found deeply relatable. We’ve all faced loss, and the idea of bargaining with fate? That hit home.

Now, let’s talk about gameplay. As a Metroidvania, Tales of Kenzera doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it polishes it to a brilliant shine. Zau uses two shaman masks—one for close-range melee, the other for ranged attacks—which he inherited from his father. I loved switching between them mid-combat; it kept battles dynamic. But where the game truly shines, in my opinion, is in its traversal mechanics. Remember that feeling when you first got the Grappling Hook in Super Metroid? Tales of Kenzera captures that perfectly. Around the 4-hour mark, I unlocked the ability to freeze bodies of water, and later, that trusty grappling hook let me swing across massive chasms. It’s not just about unlocking areas—it’s about how Kalunga, your companion throughout, helps Zau master these skills. Their dynamic adds depth to both the gameplay and the narrative.

Backtracking is a staple in Metroidvanias, and I’ll admit, sometimes it feels like a chore. But here, it rarely did. The map is divided into distinct biomes—lush forests, volcanic caverns, spectral ruins—each with its own visual identity and challenges. I found myself wanting to revisit earlier areas, not because I had to, but because I was curious what secrets I could uncover with my new abilities. On average, players might spend 12–18 hours to complete the main story, but if you’re a completionist like me, you’re looking at closer to 22 hours. And it’s time well spent.

Here’s where I get a little critical, though. While Tales of Kenzera is a great game, it doesn’t quite reach the legendary status of its predecessors. The combat, while fun, lacks the precision of something like Hollow Knight. I died more than a few times because the controls felt slightly floaty in certain sections. And the boss fights, while visually spectacular, didn’t always feel as challenging as I’d hoped. That said, the fact that it even attempts to stand alongside giants like those—and doesn’t fall on its face—is impressive. It’s a testament to how inspired design can elevate a game beyond its flaws.

What truly sets Tales of Kenzera apart, for me, is its emotional core. Zau’s journey isn’t just about defeating spirits; it’s about processing grief. There were moments—quiet conversations with Kalunga, flashbacks to Zau’s father—that felt raw and genuine. I found myself pausing just to take it all in. In an industry where stories can sometimes feel tacked-on, this one is woven into every mechanic, every environment, every unlockable ability. It’s clear the developers didn’t just want to make a fun game; they wanted to make a meaningful one.

So, where does that leave us? Tales of Kenzera: ZAU may not dethrone the titans of the genre, but it carves out its own space with confidence. It’s a game that respects its inspirations while telling a story that feels both personal and universal. If you’re a fan of Metroidvanias, or if you’ve ever struggled with loss and found solace in stories, this is one you shouldn’t miss. I’d give it a solid 8.5 out of 10. It’s not perfect, but it’s heartfelt, beautifully crafted, and—most importantly—it’s fun. And really, what more could you ask for?