REVIEW / The Rogue Prince of Persia (Switch)

Let’s rewind for a second, because you cannot talk about The Rogue Prince of Persia without acknowledging the legacy it is trying to flirt with. The Prince of Persia series has always been that effortlessly cool kid in the corner. The series started as a cinematic platformer with precise movement and punishing traps and then evolved into the Sands of Time trilogy that basically defined action platforming for a generation. After a long nap, the franchise is suddenly awake again with the release of Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown a few years ago and this new roguelite spin, The Rogue Prince of Persia last year. By observation of the two new games, it is clear that the series is in its experimental era. And honestly, I am here for it.

So where does The Rogue Prince of Persia fit into all this? Think of it as the chaotic younger sibling who picked up parkour, discovered roguelites, and decided structure is optional. Developed by Evil Empire, the team behind some very slick roguelite work, this game leans hard into speed, fluidity, and replayability. It trades in the tightly scripted storytelling of older entries for a loop driven experience. That means dying a lot, learning a lot, and looking stylish while doing both. It is less about saving the kingdom in one clean run and more about mastering the chaos over time.

Let’s talk about movement first, because wow, this is where The Rogue Prince of Persia absolutely flexes. The Prince feels ridiculously smooth to control, like he has zero regard for gravity and even less for your expectations. Wall runs, flips, slides, and aerial attacks chain together in a way that feels almost improvisational. I found myself experimenting constantly just because it felt good to move. Even when I messed up, I could not stay mad because the game makes failure feel like part of the dance. It is that rare kind of system where mechanics alone are enough to keep you hooked.

Combat builds on that fluidity in a way that feels natural but not overwhelming. You are not just button mashing your way through enemies. There is a rhythm to it, a balance between aggression and positioning that becomes clearer the more you play. Weapons and abilities add variety, giving each run its own personality. Sometimes I felt like a surgical assassin, other times like a chaotic whirlwind of blades and bad decisions. That unpredictability is part of the charm.

Visually, The Rogue Prince of Persia is not trying to be hyper realistic, which is evident in going back to 2D, and thank goodness for that. The art direction leans into bold colors and clean animation that make everything easy to track, even when the screen gets busy. Environments shift enough to keep things fresh without losing cohesion. It is the kind of aesthetic that feels modern without chasing trends too hard. Basically, it knows exactly what it is and sticks to it.

Now let’s get into the roguelite structure, because this is where things might split opinions. Runs are fast, deaths are frequent, and progress comes in small but meaningful increments. If you love that loop, you are going to feel right at home here. If you prefer a more guided, narrative driven experience, this might feel a bit repetitive after a while. I personally enjoyed the grind, but I could definitely feel moments where I wished for a little more narrative payoff. It is a tradeoff, and whether it works depends on your taste.

Speaking of repetition, The Rogue Prince of Persia does a decent job of mixing things up, but it is not immune to fatigue. Enemy patterns and level variations can start to feel familiar sooner than you might expect. That said, the sheer fun of movement and combat does a lot of heavy lifting. I kept coming back because the core gameplay loop is just that satisfying. Still, I would not mind seeing more variety as development continues. There is a strong foundation here that could benefit from a bit more expansion.

Alright, let’s address one of the more frustrating parts. The loading times are not terrible, but they are noticeable enough to break the flow. In a game that thrives on speed and momentum, even small pauses can feel exaggerated. After a few deaths in quick succession, those seconds start to add up mentally. It is not a dealbreaker, but it does chip away at the otherwise smooth experience. I found myself wishing the transitions were just a bit snappier.

Another thing that raised my eyebrow was the Ubisoft Connect requirement when you are online. I get it, ecosystems and all that, but this is a single player roguelite. There is no cooperative play, no competitive multiplayer, nothing that really justifies the extra step. Having to connect feels unnecessary and slightly annoying. It is one of those design decisions that pulls you out of the experience for no good reason. And for The Rogue Prince of Persia, a game focused on flow, that matters.

Despite those hiccups, the game’s personality shines through in smaller details. The Prince has a bit of attitude, and the overall tone leans into a playful confidence that works well. It does not take itself too seriously, which helps offset the repetitive nature of the genre. There is a sense that the developers are having fun, and that energy translates. It makes the experience feel lighter, even when the difficulty spikes. That balance is not easy to pull off.

Comparing this to Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown is interesting because they represent two very different approaches. One is a carefully crafted Metroidvania with a strong narrative backbone. The Rogue Prince of Persia, on the other hand, is a fast paced roguelite that prioritizes mechanics over story. Neither is inherently better, they just serve different moods. I found myself appreciating both for what they bring to the table. It is actually kind of exciting to see the franchise stretch in multiple directions.

By the time I wrapped up my time with The Rogue Prince of Persia, I realized something important. This is not trying to replace the classic formula, but rather, it is trying to remix it. And for the most part, it succeeds in carving out its own identity. The movement alone is worth experiencing, and the combat keeps things engaging. It stumbles in a few areas, but the core is strong enough to carry it. With a bit more polish and content, this could easily become a standout in the genre.

So yeah, is it perfect? Not even close. But is it stylish, addictive, and just a little bit chaotic in the best way? Absolutely. It feels like a game that knows it is still evolving, and that makes it kind of exciting to follow. I walked away wanting more, even with the frustrations. And honestly, that is usually a good sign.

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This review is based on a retail copy of the game provided by the publisher.