Review: Once Upon a Katamari - Rolling Through Time

For those unfamiliar, the core gameplay concept of the Katamari franchise is rolling a ball over everything in your path to create a giant ball of debris, objects, people, buildings, and whatever else. And Once Upon a Katamari (official site) manages to transform this mess into something meditative, leading you to a satisfyingly tactile state of flow, where vacuuming things up feels as good as popping bubble wrap.

For the uninitiated, the main objective of Katamari games is simple: roll your katamari (a Japanese word meaning "cluster" or "mass") over objects smaller than itself. These objects stick to the ball, causing it to grow progressively, which in turn allows you to pick up larger things, starting with thumbtacks and ants and eventually rolling buildings and clouds.

If it sounds surreal, it certainly is. Combine that with psychedelic low-polygon visuals that look like those Japanese instant noodle commercials, plus a soundtrack that oscillates between sugary J-pop and cosmic funk, and an absurd story where an extravagant and divine king destroys the cosmos and sends you to Earth to transform everyday things into new stars to restore the heavens.

Let's talk about Once Upon a Katamari, and if you have any questions, leave a comment.

Expectations were understandably high for this new game in the series — the first Katamari in 14 years. There was hope that it would recapture what made the Katamari Damacy original and its direct sequel in PlayStation 2 true darlings of the critics. After all, the franchise's later releases, while entertaining, ended up showing some wear and tear on the formula and didn't reach the same level of acclaim.

Once Upon a Katamari fulfills this role well. The game continues exactly where the classics from the early 2000s left off, remaining faithful to the core formula of rolling and collecting objects, but with more refined controls and a renewed emphasis on replayability. There’s a wide variety of stages, collectibles, and objectives, as well as new features that modernize the experience without altering its character. The result is a true continuation of the series, preserving its absurd and unmistakable charm.

Players can choose between the classic dual-analog control scheme—which may seem strange at first, but proves precise with some practice—or the new Simple mode, which reduces movement to a single analog stick. The camera has also received useful improvements, including an X-ray vision for when the katamari is hidden by obstacles, as well as practical shortcuts for running or quickly repositioning the ball.

Among the new features are power-ups, called Freebies, which add small advantages without unbalancing the gameplay. The Magnet attracts nearby objects; The Stopwatch freezes time to make it easier to capture moving targets; the Sonar emits pulses that reveal hidden items; and the Rocket propels the katamari forward in a burst of speed. These elements bring freshness without compromising the series' characteristic pace.

You’re the Prince, the son of the King of the Cosmos, and your room is a mess. Your father orders you to clean everything using your katamari, to gather the mess and tidy up the room again, and after the Prince cleans everything (a scene that serves as a tutorial for the game), they find a strange and mysterious scroll. Since common sense is a quality the King of the Cosmos lacks, he picks up the scroll and starts playing with it.

But, in one twist, the scroll ends up in space and sucks up the entire universe, leaving an infinite nothingness in its place. The King of the Cosmos, being the irresponsible person he is, then orders you to go back in time and collect as many memories of Earth as possible so that he can rebuild the entire universe. He gives you a ship, the S.S. Prince, so you can travel back in time and roll your katamari through periods like Edo-era Japan to Ancient Greece, passing through the Old West and ancient Egypt.

This time, the game takes players on a journey through time via various eccentric historical settings from Earth's history. Each environment is filled with themed objects that can be collected, composing a visually vibrant mosaic consistent with the technicolor style that defines Katamari. The new power-ups, combined with polished controls and the diversity of locations, make Once Upon a Katamari a faithful sequel, but with a modern sheen.

The levels are short and dynamic, typically ranging from two to ten minutes, each with a specific objective—such as reaching a certain size before time runs out or collecting a specific type of item. The stages, designed as interactive dioramas, are packed with collectibles: dozens of cousins ​​(who can be unlocked as playable characters), hidden gifts, and three glowing crowns per stage.

The combination of well-hidden collectibles and optional challenge variants that remix the objectives makes each map worth revisiting. There are about 50 stages in total. The main mode can be completed in around 8 to 10 hours, but the most dedicated players—the so-called completionists—will certainly spend many additional hours exploring every corner and discovering all the secrets.

Between levels, short cutscenes showcase the series' characteristic slapstick humor, full of cosmic absurdities and nonsensical dialogue. Veteran fans will instantly recognize the eccentric style of the King of All Cosmos, although his verbosity can sometimes be irritating—especially when the large text box occupies a good portion of the screen during gameplay, creating a slight visual overload.

As in previous titles, there are moments when the katamari grows too large in confined areas, getting stuck between walls or obstacles until it finds an exit angle. The camera tries to keep up, but doesn't always succeed; this can cause occasional frustration. Still, these minor imperfections are part of the franchise's DNA and don't significantly detract from the enjoyment.

Once Upon a Katamari also introduces an online multiplayer mode called Katamari Ball, which functions as a lighthearted, competitive addition, playable against both human and AI opponents. In this mode, up to four players compete to roll the most items into a shared arena, periodically depositing their collections into a UFO-like beam of light to accumulate points. Each time a player deposits items, their katamari shrinks again, making it easier to control and creating a constant cycle of risk and reward.

The katamari's growth reduces its speed, encouraging the player to balance accumulation and scoring. If your katamari is large enough, it's possible to hit opponents to gain extra points. The final score, with random bonus categories, resembles the chaotic minigames of a Mario Party, functioning as a fun "palate cleanser" between main campaign sessions. The only downside is the absence of local co-op mode, something that would certainly be missed by those who enjoy playing on the same couch.

Matchmaking turned out to be fast, finding matches with live players in seconds. The online experience was stable and responsive, without noticeable lag or connection drops — a considerable merit for a game where physics and real-time collisions are essential to the fun.

Pros

• The first new Katamari in over a decade;

• Tons of content;

• Many unlockables across various categories;

Cons

• Finding the crowns is annoying;

• The UI elements block the action;

The game doesn't try to build a new universe; it simply reminds us why rolling around was so much fun in the first place. The visuals are vibrant, the soundtrack is pure, and the gameplay nails that perfect blend of chaos and comfort. It's a sequel that doesn't need to grow to feel better, polishing what was already cosmic perfection. The King is still ridiculous, the Prince is still zealous, and the cosmos remains a glorious mess waiting to be remade.

If you missed the quirky magic of Katamari, this return is absolutely worth it. And for newcomers, it's the perfect place to start – because once you start rolling, you'll never stop.