Is Overwatch actually worth playing again?

Last week a blitz of articles asserted that live servicey shooter Overwatch 2 was making a comeback, a conclusion that presumes the hero blaster had ever "gone" anywhere in the first place. PC Gamer called it a long-in-the-works "glow-up", a fairer assessment than Kotaku's grandiose statement: "While you weren't looking, Overwatch put its crown back on". Neither article examined the hero shooter and how it plays today from the position of a long-lost player, instead providing a summary of changes and dramas over the years. The recent influx of press has more to do with a PR push developers Blizzard have been making to bring attention to an (admittedly large) update that adds five new heroes in one day. The silliest part of this update is the decision to rebrand Overwatch 2 to simply Overwatch, a walking back of the sequel's grand intentions so clownish that it resulted in some more fun headlines. 

So, the natural question arises: is Overwatch actually good again? Was it ever even "bad"? Maybe if someone - I dunno - replayed it and wrote about it, we can find out. So let's do that.

For context, I loved Overwatch but stopped playing in 2018 and largely avoided the sequel for no other reason than my life had moved on. Interest wanes, and there are many other videogames to become obsessive about. If this sounds like you too, let me save you time: it is still an adrenaline-infused bubblegum shooter. If I can hack people with Sombra more or less like I used to (notwithstanding the changes to her abilities), or tank my way through a few matches as a sensible Reinhardt, then so will you. 

The first thing I have to get used to are all the new heroes. Overwatch came out with 21 playable characters, and there are 50 of the scumbags now. So depending on when you dropped off, there is some catching up to do (the last one I remember is floaty robot Echo, the 32nd murderer of the bunch). This either means hopping into the practice range to try out a handful of the bullethosers before you play the actual game, or being an absolute pantser and just cycling through rando folks with each passing match to see what happens.  

I did the former, partly because that's how I treat a fighting game (labs before jabs) but also because dying to some weird burst of energy I've never seen before will only annoy and flabbergast me. Part of the job of a returning player (at least for me) is to learn a bunch of new moves. My thoughts and prayers go out to any completely new player. Its varied roster is not quite Dota 2 levels of intimidating, but it isn't a simple matter of "pick up and play" either. 

I gave every unfamiliar hero a runaround. I like beefy boy Mauga, because he's got miniguns and he rugby tackles people. Venture is a mole person with a fun underground digging ability. There were a lot of other fighters who made me shrug. But I feel the need to at least check them out, so I know what that blue blast of particles means, or what to expect when a Peruvian voice screams: "Face the sunrise!"

Sure enough, when I finally do enter the field I find the visual noise of an Overwatch match still reminds me of popping candy. It's still necessary to read the silhouettes of foes - looking out for those that can easily counter your own - and to pay attention to the visual and audio effects of enemy attacks lest you be caught in the open when the cowboy man instamurks everyone in the road. 

There are new elements to a match, stuff like perks. These are little MOBA-like sub-upgrades you earn as you go along - but only twice per match. They might buff an existing power or give you a small extra ability. To someone who never left, a Doomfist diehard or a Lucio loyalist, these perks might feel game-altering and dramatic, in the same way that subtle differences between two 4K displays matters to Digital Foundry yet remain basically insignificant to most laypeople.  

Again, the biggest change with this newest, rebrandiest update is that you are getting five new characters at once, with Blizzivision promising five more over this year. In the past the studio has usually averaged about three new heroes every year. So in terms of sheer stuff, that's a notable feat. The heroes themselves are... okay. They shoot bullets and do weird shit. They're Overwatch characters.

Emre feels like Soldier 76 with a three-round burst rifle instead of a fully automatic one. Domina is a shield-casting posho with a glassy special that passes through folks but erupts against walls. Mizuki is a For Honor character who got lost and is making up for it by healing people with his hat. Jetpack Cat is a troll's hero, with chunky slow bullets and a purring healzone, but doesn't feel super useful in a fight except as a distraction tactic. Anran sets people on fire with one attack, then fans those flames for extra damage with another. If she dies while her ultimate is charged, she can revive herself in an explosion of flames.

It's interesting to see five heroes dropped all at once, but there's also a feeling like these are bundled together because each of them alone would feel insubstantial. There's a limited number of workable ideas when it comes to a new Overwatch hero - the very nature of the shooter's design imposes limits on what's doable. There's only so much fun freakery you can add, before you find yourself simply uptwiddling the abilities of existing fighters and calling them brand new. 

Domina's knockback is Lucio's boopy push. Mizuki's paper doll is more or less Sombra's translocator device as it first appeared, nerfed with a time limit. Mizuki's freezing chain attack is Junkrat's bear trap on demand. Emre looks down the sights, just like Soldier 76, and lobs grenades, sort of like Junkrat. Even Mauga (who isn't among this most recent band but is still new to me) blends elements of Orisa, Bastion, and Reinhardt all into one fiery mad lad.

I'm being dismissive, of course, because small subtleties between similar powers can make a difference in a game like Overwatch, especially to diehards. But few abilities feel revolutionary to a dipper-in-and-outer once all the major workable archetypes have been done. Aside from Anran's ability to explosively self-revive, which basically turns her into a sort of horrible corpse bomb, a lot of it feels like filler. That is true on a visual level as much as a mechanistic one. People make fun of Concord's character designs, but do any of these look more distinct? It's notable that the loudest noise players are making about the new heroes does not include cries of "Jetpack Cat is OP" or "Domina's ultimate sucks" - but centre mostly around the bland Pixarness of Anran's face.

The most fun I saw anyone having in my games was an opposing player who spent half the match as the Jetpack Cat hiding under a bridge. They only came out any time one of us tried to cross, whereupon the feline would pounce out and jet-swipe that unsuspecting player off the ledge to their death. I say "unsuspecting", but by the third time I saw it happen, we really should have been "suspecting". Our enemy was embodying the role of annoying cat so accurately that I could not be upset. This booping attack is one of the few mid-game perk upgrades that makes a noticeable difference to a character.

This alone proves that, yes, Overwatch can still be a buzz. It still feels satisfying when a team works wordlessly well together as one synchronised freakshow. It still feels prideful to stomp an enemy team and to be the lynchpin tank or irreplaceable healer. It still feels like a minor humiliation to get headdonked across the map by a Widowmaker who has killed you from the same spot multiple times. None of the fundamental ups and downs of an Overwatch match have gone anywhere, they have only been mildly altered by the presence of new trickery and unfamiliar projectiles. 

But saying that Overwatch is making some grand return to form feels like huffing the hype balloons. If you go to a diner and get more of the same waffles you've always ordered, but served at a faster rate, that doesn't make the waffles better, it just means the waiters are working harder. Everything tastes like it always did. Maybe a little more salt, maybe a little more syrup. But it's the same recipe, always has been.

Many did not stop playing Overwatch because it was bad or bloated or enshittified. They just let it go. But players and media just love a "narrative" about a game so much, starved for the idea of comebacks and turnarounds and disasters, that we readily and willingly create dramas to fit an idea that is not observably real. And then we will call it real when the transparent, sustained marketing drive and rebranding efforts result in higher player numbers. As if this pattern is any different from any other live service game of a certain lifespan. Overwatch has not "put its crown back on" - it got an update. The update was big, so it was heavily publicised. It is a good team shooter that continues to live. 

If we must invent a colourful analogy to fit our purposes as journalists, we can at least summon an accurate metaphor unpolluted by synthetic PR desires. Overwatch may be in its Vegas residency, as Graham sometimes likes to analogise, or else this is Madonna emerging from her latest chrysalis - the intentional and calculated result of an entertainment business attempting to catch eyes. There is nothing supervillainous about this, but there is something artificial about it. Overwatch is not good again - it was never "bad". That doesn't mean I'm going to stick around to witness heroes 51 through 100, or the announcement of - god forgive me - Overwatch 3.