Catchee is a game that you’re going to want so desperately to love. Aesthetically it’s like a big smile from a friend you haven’t seen in a while, packed full of good cheer and joyful music. Mechanically, though, it’s a bit like that same friend punching you in the crotch.
The game sees you catching blobs as they fall from the top of the screen. These blobs represent musical notes, so as you grab them you start to build up the song you’re playing. It’s all twinkly and lovely and the songs capture the endless summer days of youth with aplomb.
But playing it is another matter. Catchee is hard. Phone-crunchingly hard. Make a couple of mistakes and start to panic and you’re going to fail. You’ll get a fart sound and have to start again. You can go from a perfect score to total collapse in a matter of seconds.
That wouldn’t be so bad if there was another song to play, another style to choose. But you’ve got one song and one skin to begin with, and it’s going to take a long while to get anything else. The reward balance here feels decidedly off, and things get grindy before you’ve really had a chance to be enthralled.
The beepity-boopity glee starts to wear off and you begin to resent all the giddiness. You fail. Fart sound. Nothing changes. Go again. It feels like there’s something missing, like the rewards come too slowly and the game expects you to be an expert from the first try.
And it’s sort of heartbreaking. Because you want to see everything that Catchee has to offer. You want to boogie to its amazing songs and giggle at its silliness. You want to live in its brightly colored world and feel nothing but glee. Then fart sound. Fail. Do it again.
With a few tweaks Catchee could be a mesmerizing, blissful thing. As it stands, though, the gnashing teeth hiding underneath the smiles show themselves too early, and they tear away the vibe you’re getting before it’s really had a chance to take hold.