You could argue that Squadrons breaks no fresh ground, that it is merely the latest in a prized patch of genre; but the ground, fresh or otherwise, was left behind long ago, and being the latest is no bad thing.
If you're hoping for a sombre tale of lives brought low by the touch of darkness, my advice would be to go for a ride and take in the sights instead.
The new studios pay both respect and homage to the original releases by valuing their clarity above all else.
There may well be the feeling of a missed opportunity here, but no matter. Almost worthy is still pretty good.
The more I played the less the goings-on of the narrative bothered me, and the more I relished the wavelike rhythm of the action: the roll and crash of sailing and breaking to alight for supplies.
What's on offer here is a version of what would only have been available, back then, from a top-flight studio; a haven for those who crave a hit of Tartakovsky; and a hack-and-slash hardly ahead of the curve but happy to polish the past.
I would recommend the remake to anyone with a nostalgic thirst for the original, but so, too, to those that like their laughs with a dark bite.
The game may never have been as sweet as it was in the first of the three main areas, but, to its credit, that’s because I was swept along by the story.
Where it succeeds isn't in how close it scrapes to the level of prestige TV, or to films. Its coup is not, "Look how closely we can make games resemble highbrow art." It's more, "Look what previously fenced-off realms we can get interactivity into."
As with the rest of the game, outside of the more focussed platform sequences, I was boosted through by the breezy mood more than anything else. Skelattack is a masterpiece in the art of the pleasant.