Ubisoft's disasturous fall from grace this autumn continues in their disbanding of the team behind their lone critical success of the decade
Beyond good and evil, this is simply bizarre
At this critical junture in the company’s history, Ubisoft are hardly asserting themselves as a paragon of resilience within the industry. Following on from Star Wars Outlaws’ failure to launch, in concert with a desperate retreat into the darkness from Assassins Creed Shadows, Ubisoft’s top brass could use a modicum of positive PR. However, they have instead chosen to recite this familiar tune. Indeed, the team behind Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown, a wily Metroidvania providing a sound time vortex between the eponymous series’ origins and its subsequent inspirators, has ostensibly been dissolved. Per a Francophone report from Gautoz, development upon the title was successful; employees believed it to have been the best production of careers. Those enlisted were relieved to have a reprive from Beyond Good & Evil 2’s circle of development hell - which has not received a formal update on its own website for four years, despite a re-release of its predecessor this very year.
If Immortals: Fenyx Rising followed a breath of the wild, The Lost Crown sought to capture Metroid’s dread.
Evidently, sanctioning a positive working environment is not a particular priority for the company. Shortly after launch, the game’s timeline was cut fatally short; it bore a minor player count of 300,000. If Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora’s 1.9 million trips to Pandora was regarded as a disappointment in an internal respect, Persia’s profound underpopulation was enough to thoroughly disenfranchise the studio. Consequently, Ubisoft discarded the team’s pitch for a sequel, before quashing their ploy for two expansions in its stead. Paradoxically, Ubisoft cited a successor as anathemic to the long-term growth of the game; how would abandoning content entirely cultivate this reputation? Nevertheless, a sole story DLC was sanctioned, serving as a sheathing of the franchise’s blunted dagger.
The Lost Crown’s existential narrative is a reflection of Ubisoft’s corrosive practices. A rare title of theirs to receive both critical and consumer adoration, the game should have heralded a return to their aptitude in delivering kinetic, creative exercises to compliment their commercial kin - the UbiArt Framework era is a contemporary example, though it was later reinterpreted to power Just Dance. The absence of an immediate delineation between their single-player titles and their live-service engagements culminated in a duo of bloated, disjointed experiences in Assassin’s Creed Valhalla and Far Cry 6: technically sound, yet conceptually rote. Both were imbued with expansive biomes, laboured upon to considered ends. However, their bare core was hollow, ensnaring players within emergent measures mimicking models of online play. The gradual creep of perpetual revenue generation into their stalwart series indicated a nascent identity crisis, shaded by a radical departure from core mechanics and microtransactions, respectively.
Mirage provided an oasis for players desiring a return to the series’ Middle Eastern origins.
In an attempt to rehabilitate the reputation of Assassin’s Creed in particular, Ubisoft spun Mirage into a premium title; it was intially conceived as a commemorative means of DLC for Valhalla. In parallel, the studio illuminated a desired milieu in Feudal Japan through Shadows - subsequently plagued by a successive parade of embarrassing incidents, chiefly in sanctioning a statue bearing a one-legged torii gate significantly before its time. Thus, with the once powerful dogma of the assassins wavering in integrity, what is to become of the company? First, perhaps a universal throwing of arms into the sky, succeded by a coordinated shrugging of shoulders. Then, analyses of their highest profile crises in XDefiant, whose marketing push will begin once it is in a “better place”, contrary to the very purpose of advertising, and the capsizing of Skull and Bones - well, the latter may be evident, as its numerous iterations and tandem conceptualisation of a Black Flag remake indicated rough waters ahead.
Perhaps from my own vantage point, Ubisoft’s problems are rather clear. They continue to develop titles from a place of obligation, rather than inspiration. Their lack of faith in their slate is reflected through the apathy of their audience; ginormous brands in Star Wars and Avatar were rejected by consumers due to the presence of Ubisoft’s swirl on the box art. The Lost Crown is their sole mediation of creative integrity and franchise maintenance in ten years; its reward is to have its braintrust stripped apart and assigned to titles reserving greater fiscal vigour. However, these games, once designed for everyone and no one in particular, are gravitating towards the latter; Ubisoft’s identity is best sketched through qualities representative of Triple A’s - sorry, Quadruple A's - composite struggle with scope.