There is something quietly haunting about Majogami from the moment it begins. Not frightening in the traditional sense, but melancholic. Every environment feels fragile, like a storybook left out in the rain and carefully stitched back together. Torn-paper landscapes sway in impossible winds while broken memories drift through the background like ash. Inti Creates has always known how to make 2D action feel sharp and satisfying, but Majogami adds surprising emotional weight beneath all that speed and spectacle.
You play as Shiroha, a young woman robbed of her memories, wandering through a twisted papercraft world alongside her father, Shiori, who has somehow been transformed into a living sheet of paper. It sounds absurd on paper, yet the game commits to its strange fantasy with complete sincerity. The deeper Shiroha travels into the domains of the Craft Witches, the more the world begins to feel like a broken fairy tale desperately trying to remember how it once ended. That lingering sadness gives Majogami a personality that sets it apart from the growing mountain of stylish action platformers competing for attention.
Gameplay
Majogami lives and dies by its combat system, and thankfully it absolutely thrives there. The centerpiece is the Setsuna ability, a lightning-fast slash-dash that lets Shiroha teleport through enemies, evade incoming attacks, and reposition herself with almost balletic precision. Within a few minutes, movement feels completely natural. Soon you are chaining attacks without consciously thinking about the buttons, darting through projectiles as enemies explode into showers of paper fragments and ink.
The beauty of the combat is how aggressively it encourages you to play. Playing cautiously often feels like the wrong decision because the game rewards momentum. Setsuna is not simply an attack mechanic. It is movement, defence, traversal, and survival, all wrapped into one elegant system. Entire platforming sections are built around mastering its timing, forcing you to slash across gaps, weave through hazards, and ricochet off airborne enemies in rapid succession. When everything clicks, Majogami feels phenomenal in motion.
The game gradually expands that foundation through unlockable Astral forms, each dramatically altering Shiroha’s combat style. Some forms prioritise speed and aerial mobility, while others turn her into a slower but devastating powerhouse. Swapping between them adds welcome variety across the campaign and prevents combat encounters from becoming repetitive. Certain boss fights practically demand experimentation, especially in later encounters where bullet-hell patterns begin to fill entire sections of the screen.
There is also a surprisingly satisfying customisation system beneath the action. Magical charms and unlockable techniques let players tweak passive bonuses and special abilities to suit different approaches. Some builds focus heavily on evasive mobility, while others encourage relentless offence or elemental status effects. The flexibility is appreciated because it lets players shape Shiroha to match their instincts rather than forcing a rigid playstyle.
Still, Majogami occasionally pushes its systems too far towards chaos. Late-game combat encounters can become visually overwhelming, particularly when multiple enemy effects overlap against already busy backgrounds. The speed remains exhilarating, but there are moments when readability suffers under the sheer amount of visual noise erupting on-screen. It never ruins the combat, though it can lead to a few frustrating deaths that feel more confusing than deserved.
World Design and Visuals
Visually, Majogami is stunning. Inti Creates has crafted one of the most distinctive-looking action games in recent memory. The papercraft aesthetic could have easily felt gimmicky, but instead it becomes the game’s entire identity. Characters unfold like living origami creations, while environments resemble handcrafted theatre stages layered with textured paper, ink strokes, and painted shadows.
Every biome feels memorable for different reasons. One moment you are navigating a haunted paper forest lit by lantern glow, while the next you are climbing through surreal mechanical shrines guarded by towering witch constructs. The game constantly introduces fresh visual ideas without losing its core artistic cohesion. Even small environmental animations, such as paper grass rippling or torn scenery folding inward during transitions, add charm to the illusion that this entire world exists inside a living storybook.
The Craft Witches themselves deserve special praise. Each one dominates their section of the game with a wildly distinct personality and visual style. Their boss fights feel theatrical in the best way, often escalating into massive, screen-filling spectacles packed with dramatic attack animations and shifting mechanics. These encounters are where Majogami feels most alive. The witches are grotesque, tragic, eccentric, and occasionally hilarious, all while remaining visually unforgettable.
Performance on the PlayStation 5 is also excellent overall. The game runs smoothly in most combat scenarios, maintaining the responsiveness required for such precision-heavy gameplay. Load times are quick, controls feel razor-sharp, and the vibrant art direction benefits greatly from the console’s clean presentation.
Story
The emotional core of Majogami centres on Shiroha and her relationship with her father. When the game slows to focus on them, it genuinely lands. There is an understated warmth to their interactions that keeps the narrative grounded beneath all the surreal fantasy elements. Shiori’s condition could have easily become comic relief, but the game instead treats it with quiet tenderness. Watching Shiroha slowly recover fragments of her memories while struggling to understand the truth behind the world creates some genuinely touching moments.
Unfortunately, the narrative pacing is less consistent than the combat. Story scenes often arrive in lengthy visual novel-style conversations that can drag momentum after especially energetic gameplay sections. Some exposition becomes overly dense, particularly when explaining the mythology surrounding the Craft Witches and the world itself. There are stretches where Majogami feels like it is trying too hard to sound mysterious rather than letting its emotional beats speak naturally.
There is also an issue of tonal inconsistency. Several critics have pointed out the game’s reliance on fanservice elements, and it is difficult to ignore how awkwardly some of those moments clash with the heavier themes of grief, family trauma, and identity. Certain character designs and camera framing choices feel distracting rather than additive, especially during scenes clearly attempting emotional sincerity. It does not completely undermine the story, but it occasionally cheapens moments that otherwise could have carried greater emotional weight.
Even so, the ending leaves a surprisingly strong impression. By the time the credits roll, Majogami has made Shiroha’s journey feel meaningful. Beneath all the supernatural chaos and explosive boss battles lies a story about memory, loss, and holding on to human connection in a world designed to tear it apart.
Audio Design
The soundtrack deserves enormous credit for shaping the game’s atmosphere. Tracks shift effortlessly between melancholic piano melodies, energetic combat themes, and eerie ambient pieces that reinforce the world’s dreamlike instability. Boss music, in particular, stands out, often escalating encounters into emotionally charged showdowns that feel larger than life.
Voice acting is also excellent throughout. Shiroha’s performance strikes the right balance of vulnerability and determination, while the supporting cast injects personality into even the smallest scenes. The witches especially benefit from strong vocal performances that make each confrontation memorable long after the fight ends.
Sound design during combat remains crisp and impactful. Every slash, teleport, and counterattack lands with satisfying weight, giving combat a tactile sharpness that complements its fast pace beautifully.
Final Verdict
Majogami is not flawless, but it is unforgettable. Its narrative pacing stumbles at times, and the tonal imbalance between emotional storytelling and fanservice occasionally undermines it. Yet none of that can overshadow how thrilling the gameplay feels or how stunning the world looks in motion.
This is one of Inti Creates’ most visually ambitious projects to date, backed by combat systems that feel fast, fluid, and immensely rewarding once mastered. More importantly, it has genuine heart beneath the spectacle. Shiroha’s journey through this fractured papercraft nightmare lingers long after the final battle. Majogami feels like a forgotten fairy tale folded from grief, ink, and steel. It is messy, beautiful, strange, and very difficult to put down.
