Mark of the Ninja Review

Imagine for a moment that you're a professional baseball player. With each pitch, you read the man throwing it. You see the way he grips the ball, the spin when it leaves his hand, the speed at which it's coming to the plate, its future trajectory. You know everything there is to know about that ball. Playing Mark of the Ninja makes me feel like that batter, but instead of swatting homers, I'm stabbing suckers in the throat.

Here's the thing, though: You don't have to do any training to know everything you need to know about being a master ninja. This 2D stealth-platformer lets you know exactly how far the guards searching for you can see by displaying their cones of vision, how much noise you're emitting with visible soundwaves, and whether or not you're in the cover of darkness by changing the color of your ninja's gear from black to blue.

An Assault on the Senses

The totally gorgeous hand-drawn animation style makes it all remarkably easy
to read.

The totally gorgeous hand-drawn animation style makes it all remarkably easy to read, and all that information lends a certain level of precision to sneaking that isn't always present in stealth games. Whereas in a Dishonored or Splinter Cell there's a lot of ambiguity as to whether or not you'll be spotted, Mark of the Ninja does a remarkable job of completely removing chance from the equation. It becomes less about trial and error, and more about executing your perfect plan. Failures are never due to a lack of information or some unknown force, they're nearly always due to player failure. So, when a plan does come together, it feels incredibly rewarding.

As I made my way to enact revenge on those who invaded my clan's home, I was slowly learning the intricacies of what it is to be a ninja. Distracting guards with noisemakers, utilizing the ever-popular grappling hook, or deactivating lasers with the bodies of victims are all lessons I learned naturally and smoothly. I was comfortable with both mouse and keyboard and gamepad, but this being a sidescrolling action game, the gamepad has the home-field advantage.

The Illusion of Choice

Pure nonlethal runs are possible, but it's rather clear what Mark of the Ninja's design encourages.

Each room is designed for players to take advantage of the surroundings -- chandeliers hang precariously above guards' heads, traps can be used against the guards who set them, and a variety of gongs and sound sources can be used as distractions to set up lethal throat-slashings. For those willing to put in the effort of doing so, pure nonlethal runs are possible, but it's rather clear what kind of behavior Mark of the Ninja's design encourages.

This is especially apparent in later levels, which introduce elements like poison gas and motion sensors that funnel players towards encounters with big enemies with shields and shotguns. Of course, by "encounters," I mean "waiting above them for the right moment to backstab before stepping through the door they're guarding." It's always your choice as to how you can take them out, but it's almost always advantageous to clear the way of guards rather than trying to avoid them entirely.

Making Your Mark

Of course, that's not to say there's only one way of playing. Through a series of upgrades, Mr. Unnamed Ninja (unless... is his name Mark?) can become the sneakiest murderer you've ever known, or a straight-up melee monster. There are stealth kills like stringing opponents up from the ceiling, and tons of unlockable melee combos (including my personal favorite, the Rising Snake, which knocks enemies into the air long enough for you to escape) so as to build the exact kind of ninja you'd like to take into action. Sure, the end result is the same -- hundreds upon hundreds of dead bodies -- but the paths taken to get there diverge wildly.

The joy is in figuring out what kind of ninja you want to be. Mark of the Ninja gives you the tools to get the job done, and lets you run wild through levels with diverging paths, tons of secrets, and ways of slaughtering guards. As a result, that feeling of badassery I get upon pulling off a perfectly executed symphony of violence is a well-earned one.