Psychonauts 2 Review

Psychonauts 2 is absolutely fantastic. The creativity of its levels is the first thing that stayed with me: each mind is more than a new backdrop, because the game finds ways to turn its themes into the platforms, puzzles and enemies. The dentist’s mind is a great example. The game takes familiar dental imagery and turns it into an inventive platforming space, then builds enemies from ideas about the brain in ways that actually make sense within the level.

Raz’s psychic powers give the platforming more to work with than jumping alone. Telekinesis lets him pick up and throw objects, while Mental Connection links ideas and carries him between points in the air. Those abilities are useful tools, but their meaning fits the setting too. You are moving through a person’s thoughts, so finding a new connection can be a literal route across the room as well as part of the story.

The story and comedy help make the creativity land. The characters have enough warmth and oddness to make their problems interesting, and the game can be funny without reducing every moment to a gag. Going inside someone’s mind gives the designers a playful way to represent emotional struggles, memories and anxieties. It is imaginative, but it also gives the levels something to say.

One early mind transforms from a hospital into a casino after Raz interferes with its owner’s thinking. The change affects the platforming as well as the scenery, replacing medical imagery with gambling motifs. It is a good example of the game’s imagination serving the story: the player can see the consequences of a character’s altered thoughts in the space they have to navigate.

The warmth matters as much as the spectacle. A mind is not just a colourful level to clear before the next one; it belongs to someone with memories, fears and relationships. The game is funny without treating every problem as a punchline, and the writing gives its visual ideas something to express. I liked that a ridiculous enemy or prop could make sense both as a game object and as a piece of characterisation.

Collectibles extend that attention to character. Figments contribute to Raz’s rank, while Memory Vaults and other discoveries provide another reason to inspect a level instead of rushing to the exit. Completionists have plenty to return for with later abilities. The trade-off is that chasing everything can break the story’s rhythm, so there is a useful distinction between enjoying a mind as a journey and methodically clearing every corner of it.

The enemies carry the same ideas as the levels. Regrets, for example, appear as flying creatures weighed down by a burden, while Censors try to stamp out thoughts that do not belong. Their designs make the mental-health themes visible during a fight rather than leaving them entirely to dialogue. Managing Raz’s growing set of powers can mean stopping to swap abilities, which is a little less fluid than the platforming.

Between mental worlds, Raz can explore the Psychonauts’ headquarters and other hub areas, talk to the interns and follow optional assignments. Collectibles give completionists reasons to return with abilities gained later. Those quieter spaces let the cast develop between the more spectacular levels, though players who prefer a direct route through the story can spend less time chasing every hidden item.

Mental Connection is a particularly good expression of that approach: a traversal tool can alter someone’s thinking, giving a practical action consequences beyond reaching a platform.

Busy fights are the part that feels more routine than the platforming around them. Raz can only have a selection of powers equipped at once, so an encounter that needs something else can involve stopping to swap an ability. That is a practical interruption in a game whose imaginative spaces otherwise carry me along so easily. The enemies remain clever expressions of the world, even when managing the buttons is less elegant than the idea.