I knew something was terribly wrong 10 seconds into Marvel Rivals’ tutorial. Actually, not just something. Everything. The annoying omnipresence of Galactus’ weird anime daughter, who serves as the host of these gladiatorial bouts; the fact that the map looked like a soulless facsimile of an Overwatch location, all brightly coloured but entirely forgettable; and worst of all, the combat itself, which is so unpleasant that it took all my willpower not to quit there and then.
My enthusiasm for hero shooters allows me to overlook a lot of flaws. I even enjoyed a stint in Star Wars: Hunters—free-to-play junk food, but fun nonetheless. And I wanted to like Marvel Rivals. The MCU has done a fantastic job of sapping my interest in comic adaptations, but that didn’t stop me from falling in love with X-Men ’97. I’m not totally burned out yet. Thanks to what NetEase has created here, though, I’m perilously close.
Tutorials are rarely a good time, of course, so I gave the game the benefit of the doubt and hopped into my first match. My hopes were then buoyed by the presence of Magneto in the roster. Magneto is not just Marvel’s greatest antagonist, he’s the best comic book villain (and sometimes hero). Remember the time he ripped all the adamantium out of Wolverine? The dude’s a boss.
Unfortunately, in Marvel Rivals, the man who reversed Earth’s magnetic poles, took out entire cities, and regularly defeats teams of superheroes single-handedly is reduced to the role of ‘shield guy’. He’s a Pound Shop Reinhardt. But I like Reinhardt, so this isn’t necessarily a terrible thing. Unfortunately, his suite of abilities are, like everyone else’s, horrible to use.
Magneto’s big shield lasts mere seconds, making it a brief, situational save rather than something a team can build a strategy around. He can also protect allies with magnetic bubbles, but they are also incredibly short lived. This means you’re constantly running around trying to protect everyone, while your team jumps around, flies off, or gets lost in the mess of obfuscating abilities. It’s a bloody nightmare.
As I floated across the map like a sleepy tank, I wondered, “Is this what the Master of Magnetism has been reduced to?” A support role with no bite, chasing down unworthy allies in an attempt to save them from their own recklessness. An Omega level mutant turned into a sad nanny. Even though Marvel Rivals matches are short, my stint with Magneto was more than enough time for my love for the character to sour.
Even though Marvel Rivals matches are short, my stint with Magneto was more than enough time for my love for the character to sour.
His primary attack, meanwhile, sees him shoot out little purple projectiles, and thanks to Marvel Rivals’ lack of feedback and every attack’s complete absence of weight or momentum, feels entirely impotent. Even his ultimate, where he launches a metal meteor at a specific area, feels wimpy. It can wipe out multiple heroes, so this isn’t a complaint about its actual damage capabilities, rather it’s an issue of presentation, where every match looks like a cluttered light show.
His secondary attack scores a point because there’s a good idea underpinning it—it can be quickly charged up by shielding allies, encouraging players to support their team so they can unleash a more powerful attack—but there’s no joy to be found in hitting targets with it. This really encapsulates the Marvel Rivals experience. Even when it reveals a neat idea—like certain heroes being able to team up, so Scarlet Witch can bestow Magneto with a sword infused with chaos energy—the foundations are just so weak, the combat so unappealing, that it’s entirely undermined.
It’s hard to really capture how deeply unsatisfying every second of this game is, whether it’s using an ability, shooting a gun, or simply moving. It has an almost numbing effect, leaving me barely able to engage with its lacklustre systems. I just wanted to go for a nap. As a sedative, Marvel Rivals is actually quite good, which is surprising given its obnoxious level of gaudiness.
Visually, it’s an explosive fireworks display full of unnecessary bullshit. Heroes are constantly popping off over-the-top abilities that obscure everything—even the Hulk gets a giant green bubble around him—and when you’ve got a few heroes in the same place it’s just impossible to read what the hell is going on. It’s a headache waiting to happen, and ensures that there’s no competitive future here. It’s just too messy for the kind of precision esports thrive on. And I definitely can’t imagine anyone wanting to watch it.
It just feels really careless. Even where individual heroes might seem almost cohesive in their design, the roster absolutely isn’t. Hero shooters are ultimately all about the teams, and while thematic variety and special hooks are necessary, there also needs to be some consistency so you can make sense of the brawls. Especially in a third-person game like this. That’s not remotely evident here. Despite the team ups and support roles proving that some thought has been put into character synergies, this still feels like a game full of disparate heroes vying for the limelight.
When Marvel Rivals was first revealed, some of the criticism was aimed at its Overwatch mimicry. Frankly, aping the biggest hero shooter around is probably a really good idea, but NetEase has failed to actually capture what makes Overwatch work. Aside from a few heroes, it’s predominantly a shooter. It has a clear visual language, and the big, screen-obscuring abilities are events rather than simply part of the moment-to-moment action. Had Marvel Rivals leaned into the Overwatch similarities more, it might have been salvageable.
As it stands, Marvel Rivals is a powerfully off-putting hero shooter that seems to offer little aside from the promise of letting you play with a decently varied gaggle of supes—none of whom actually live up to their comic book counterparts. This isn’t the Punisher; it’s a ‘roided-up bloke with a peashooter. You’re not playing as Rocket; you’re playing a raccoon who spits out aimless healing orbs. There’s no power fantasy to be found here—just awkward, blinding brawls.
