High on Life 2 drops you back into the most gloriously messed up corner of the galaxy, where bounty hunting means talking pistols, alien guts, and enough crude humor to make your grandma faint. I went in expecting more of the same chaotic energy from the first game, but Squanch Games actually listened to players and built something noticeably different. After 12 hours of grinding rails, popping heads, and laughing at lines I probably shouldn’t repeat in polite company, here’s my take on whether this sequel delivers.
New Tricks: Skateboarding Through Alien Guts
The biggest upgrade hits you right away: your character grabs a skateboard within minutes, turning every level into a halfpipe from hell. Forget the clunky walking from High on Life 1, where you shuffled between arenas like a hungover tourist. Now you’re grinding neon rails, wall riding toxic pipes, and launching off ramps to blast enemies mid-air. Combat finally feels alive, with dash, double jump, slide, and grapple hook letting you zip around like a caffeinated Tony Hawk in space.
This mobility transforms fights from static bullet sponges into frantic skate or die chases. Picture dodging plasma fire while ollieing over a pit of glowing slime, or chaining grinds into headshots. It’s messy genius that makes traversal pure joy, even if open arenas sometimes feel repetitive after the tenth wave. Sure, boss battles occasionally glitch when you skate too aggressively, but those peak moments make you grin like an idiot.
Guns That Won’t Shut Up (And That’s the Point)
Your arsenal returns as foul-mouthed companions, each with upgraded personalities sharper than their alt-fire modes. The classic pistols banter non-stop, roasting your skills, each other, and the absurd universe around you. New weapons bring fresh chaos: one dual-wields like a married couple arguing mid-fight, another turns enemies into piñatas for loot explosions.
Upgrades keep things progressing smoothly. Spend bounty cash on damage boosts, mod slots, or ability tweaks like homing knives or ricochet rounds. It’s straightforward pick up and play, without grindy menus stealing the spotlight. By mid-game, you’re juggling combos that feel powerful, even if enemy AI occasionally decides to admire the scenery instead of shooting back.
Story That Tries Too Hard This Time
High on Life 2’s plot kicks off with your bounty hunter slacking in a floating space arcade, until galactic trouble pulls you back for “one last job” to save your sister. It leans harder into movie parodies than ever, stuffing levels with interactive cutscenes mimicking everything from heist flicks to courtroom dramas. Memorable gags shine, like a boss hacking your menus (voiced hilariously) or murder mysteries solved via absurd interrogations.
Problem is, the humor lands less consistently than the original’s scattershot brilliance. Jokes pile up relentlessly, sometimes smothering the pacing. Side characters steal scenes with fourth-wall breaks and unhinged rants, but the main narrative feels thinner, more excuse for setpieces than cohesive arc. Clocking 10-15 hours total, it wraps neatly without dragging, but lacks the first game’s surprise emotional gut punches.
Worlds That Pop, Performance That Drops
Levels deliver psychedelic variety: toxic wastelands with grindable vines, neon cityscapes begging for tricks, bizarre hubs packed with weirdos selling upgrades. Exploration rewards peek behind vents for hidden luglox crates or secret skate spots, though collectibles feel tacked on compared to the main path’s constant action.
Technically, it’s rougher than hoped. PS5 and Xbox versions chug during big fights, textures pop in late, and skate physics clip through geometry. Patches should smooth this out, but right now it undercuts the vibrant art style’s impact. Still, vibrant colors and exaggerated animations sell the gonzo vibe perfectly.
Does It Beat the Original?
High on Life 2 iterates smartly on what worked: sharper movement, funnier guns, creative bosses, and unapologetic weirdness. Skateboarding elevates gunplay from passable to addictive, while writing keeps the soul of Rick and Morty’s creators intact (minus Justin Roiland drama). Weak spots hurt—sloppier story beats, technical hiccups, repetitive enemy waves—but peak moments hit harder than before.
If you loved the first game’s irreverent chaos, this sequel amps everything up for a crazier ride. It’s flawed, juvenile, technically shaky, but stupidly fun in ways polished blockbusters rarely match. Grab it on sale after patches, crank the volume, and let the talking guns carry you through the absurdity. Just don’t expect Shakespeare in space.
