CLASH OF CLANKS
Some games resist analysis. Fun as it is to play, writing about Ratchet & Clank 3: Up Your Arsenal is about as inspiring as reviewing a third entry in a superhero film series. So little separates the installments that you could copy-paste most reviews, tweak a few details, and call it a day. The franchise’s appeal lies in its kinetic silliness, not in being dissected. I’d honestly rather get this text out of the way so I can return to playing the series.
From a purely practical standpoint, this third chapter is likely the strongest so far. It introduces a range of quality-of-life improvements you didn’t realize you were missing: a dedicated strafe button (which I barely touched in the second game), faster bolt collection, and noticeably better pacing overall. Tedious sections are either trimmed down or distributed more evenly. The Clank-centric gameplay segments are shorter, less restrictive, and less frequent. At this point, the only thing I truly miss is a proper dodge roll.
Still, I hold the original game in slightly higher regard, largely due to its sense of novelty. It did the heavy lifting. Everything that works about the franchise today is built on Insomniac’s inspired initial concept. I’m not especially fond of some of Up Your Arsenal’s additions—such as the Captain Qwark–starring side-scrolling segments, a new lock-picking mini-game, or a timing-based alien conversation mechanic (though I do enjoy the bizarre responses you get when failing).
In this outing, the lombax-and-robot duo faces off against the blue, one-eyed Tyhrranoid army led by Dr. Nefarious, a robotic supervillain whose scheming you can literally observe through the transparent glass dome of his cone-shaped head. His plans for domination are initially vague, but the eventual reveal is so delightfully absurd that I’ll leave it unspoiled. Suffice it to say, they’re nefarious—and your goal is to stop them. The storytelling delivers sharp, Pixar-like comedic timing, built on low-key puns and surprisingly understated reactions.
As always, you hop from planet to planet, following a breadcrumb trail toward an inevitable final showdown. Along the way, you encounter a mix of new and familiar characters and explore a series of thematically exaggerated worlds: a suburban planet here, a jungle planet there, and—yes—those aquatic planets we all love so dearly.
Level design adheres closely to the franchise’s tried-and-true formula: narrow paths cutting through open spaces, factory corridors, and tunnels linking cavernous interiors, all punctuated by frequent enemy encounters. For players weary of sprawling open worlds, this is almost refreshingly old-school—strictly linear progression. You can backtrack, and some areas open up slightly, but a line remains a line. Call it antiquated if you want; I think it still works beautifully.
Preparation revolves around assembling an ever-growing arsenal of weapons, gadgets, and tools, acquired through exploration or purchased from vendors. I enjoy how the game often shows you weapon prices long before you can afford them, stoking a delicious sense of bolt-collecting greed. Anything destructible—lamp posts, crates, windows—turns into currency. In a delightful irony, saving the universe largely involves destroying it.
With Up Your Arsenal, the series continues its drift away from action-platforming toward full-blown shooter territory. Insomniac leans hard into weapon design, crafting encounters that highlight each gun’s specific strengths—spread, range, elemental effects, and so on. Some planets feature mission-based combat scenarios where you support ground troops for hefty bolt rewards. They’re nothing remarkable, but they serve as an efficient way to pad your wallet.
Weapons grow stronger the more you use them, eventually evolving into devastating late-game tools. However, their core mechanics are beginning to feel repetitive across entries. The few truly novel additions—the Plasma Whip, with its flashy physics, and the Infector—failed to make much of an impression on me. It’s starting to feel like Insomniac may be approaching the limits of their weapon-design imagination.
Even so, upgrading your arsenal remains the game’s central progression system—arguably more important than the breezy, cartoonish story. There’s a faint echo of Pokémon-style evolution here: you’re constantly curious about what each weapon might become, and which ones will remain viable against tougher encounters. Boss fights and arena challenges provide ample opportunity to test and refine your loadout, separating the truly useful tools from the novelty items.
Reading back over this, it’s clear how weapon-obsessed the experience is. In that sense, Ratchet & Clank feels like a natural heir to the slapstick violence and innuendo of classic cartoon shorts—Looney Tunes and Tom & Jerry come to mind. As with those shows, continuity is beside the point. Just pick an entry, dive in, and enjoy the inventiveness, chaos, and mayhem. I certainly do.
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