Thank Goodness You’re Here! Review

Small towns have a unique energy to them – you can’t take two steps without running into a colleague or family member, gossip comes as naturally as breathing, and the concept of lending a hand is just the done thing. This is mainly because everyone knows (and possibly hates) each other, so any social faux pas will dominate the main street chatter for weeks after you refuse to help your cousin Glen move house.

If that all sounds a bit boring, it’s because it is. At least 30% of my life was spent in this kind of environment, so seeing Thank Goodness You’re Here! lampoon the shit out of it is like finding a childhood mixtape that has been warped by the sun – familiar, but fucking weird to imbibe.

TGYH describes itself as a “slapformer” – with two buttons and a licence for mischief, you essentially shove your weird lemon-headed bloke into a variety of situations and townspeople problems. Your solution for most things involves violently shoving or burying yourself into things, with disastrous results that still somehow please the affected party. Tidy up the supermarket? Sure. Does everything look alright now that it’s on the floor? Never looked better? Well, alright then.

You can always trust a fence hole sausage

Ideally, you are supposed to be visiting the mayor of this quaint British town, but your appointment is running late. Sure you could hang out in the reception for a bit longer, but why not step outside and see what Barnsworth has to offer. You are scarcely out the door before you encounter a man with his arm stuck in the drain, and you best believe he needs your assistance.

There is a story to the game, but really it’s a tale about what happens when you are filling time. You’ll get an unmitigated glimpse into what goes on behind the closed doors of a little town, be it inane thoughts on pie size or noting the freakishly large head on the local greengrocer. Truly, the most involved piece of recurring narrative is fixing the deep fryer at the local chippie. Your journey will take you to every odd corner of Barnsworth, with denizens all remarking how pleased they are to see you, if you could just spare a moment to lend them a hand.

With no sign of an objective tracker, I felt my arse clench and instinctively reached for my pen and paper to make sure I didn’t boomer my way into getting stuck somewhere – but it became clear that while you are technically free to explore, you are often only expected to do one specific thing. Each part of the town also subtly changes to railroad you into heading in the right direction, often past new gags and progressing old ones. You’ll soon come to realise that your loops through Barnsworth are all cleverly done to revisit goofs and show the descent into madness your presence is bringing. Handily, the traversal portions also have some passive storytelling to them to keep the gags coming while you squeeze through a pipe for the umpteenth time.

And this humour is the beating heart of the game. With only a jump button and a slap button to your name, 99% of your timewill be spent wandering around and beholding what is going on – and the beholding is a rich feast. This game drinks deeply from the cup of British comedy, channelling a greatest hits mix of absurdist humour like The Goon Show or Monty Python – dropping weapons grade nonsense at such a rapid pace that you’ll often worry that you missed a gag in the time it took you to recover from the last one. The game literally opens with an ad for “Peans™” – Not quite peas, not quite beans – and this was all I needed to know I was on the path to greatness. Smack smacky bum bum indeed.

And while the crudely drawn charm of the world is magnificent to explore, it is also a treasure trove of visual gags that are strewn about like rubbish on the floor of your mate’s car. Characters are all misshapen oddities, but expressive to a fault – animatedly barking their unique brand of butchered English right into your delicate ear holes. The game covertly asked me if I understood Yorky slang when I booted it up, and when I meekly admitted that I do not, it was kind enough to translate some of the odder phrasing in the subtitles.

My tour through Barnsworth was a whirlwind of meat, milk and stolen tools – and wrapped up neatly in a little under two hours. Seeing the achievements list, I know there are some hidden gems to dig up at some point – and the very nature and tone of the game is one that begs for a playthrough with company to help you scrutinise the oddball vibe of it all, so while I can’t say the replayability is a strong seller, I will admit that it is at least present.

Peans™! For your gout!

Final Thoughts

Thank Goodness You’re Here! establishes itself as one of those games that will always prompt the question of, “Have you played Thank Goodness You’re Here!”? when encountering people of a positive nature – where you will then delight in their own telling of their experiences or feel the giddy warmth of recommending it. It’s razor sharp, densely packed and firing on all cylinders for the entirety of the afternoon you will spend playing it – all for the price you’d pay for a disappointing fast food dinner. And by the time you encounter the ending and drink in all the madness THAT has to offer, I’d challenge you to not feel well cared for.

Reviewed on PC // Review code supplied by publisher

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