The original Planet of Lana proposed a science fiction fantasy that appealed on two levels: one, being able to adventure through a wondrously lush exoworld, and two, having a cat who actually listens to you. Planet of Lana 2 is more of the same, on both counts, while adding enough athleticism to its platforming and depth to its puzzling to feel like a worthwhile sequel.

Not that it avoids a slightly odd start. For all the leafy forests, snow-carpeted mountains, and tropical undersea trenches that you’ll eventually see Lana – and feline-ish alien companion Mui – through, game number two begins in a series of grey corridors. It’s here, mind, where Lana reveals she’s been keeping up platforming practice in the intervening years, and is able to sprint, slide, and wall-jump from the off. All simple tricks, but ones that give the physical challenges more of a flowing, dynamic quality than the occasionally sluggish clambering of the original.

Mui, too, is a more helpful blob-buddy. While still needing cursor-pointed direction, they’re no longer limited to waypoints that barely extend beyond Lana’s own arms, thus permitting them to boing around puzzles, gnawing cables and dropping ropes at the very extremes of the screen. Their hypnotic power over the planet’s fauna now extends beyond simple movements and into full player control, adding ink-blasting fish and colonies of sticky, rolling cloud creatures to your solving toolbox.

To accommodate the empowered duo, the puzzles themselves have in turn expanded. Often literally: Planet of Lana steadfastly kept each of its brainteasers to a single screen, but enabled by Mui’s unleashed range and the freely controllable wildlife, many of the sequel’s most memorable puzzles feel massive by comparison. Flying and swimming creatures, especially, lend themselves to sprawling, multi-stage conundrums that have you flicking attention between Lana, Mui, and your captive thrall like the character select screen of an indecisive Street Fighter player.

This is not a complaint. The back-and-forth dance between Lana and Mui was central to the first game’s effectiveness in staving off crate-pushing fatigue, an affliction that can prove fatal to lesser puzzle-platformers. Bigger, more intricate puzzles might have raised the risk of getting stuck and burning out, but the thoughtful, often tactily pleasurable suite of expanded powers and movements turns those scaled-up challenges into some of 2’s most satisfying highlights. You may have already played one of these in the demo: an elaborate infiltration of a submerged cave network, beautifully stitching together well-timed swims (both Lana’s and those of mesmerised fish) with underwater stealth (the coral is patrolled by crackling electric sharks) and management of the aquaphobic Mui.

Not unlike Lana’s squeaking BFF, these helper critters are also invariably cutesy and boopable, in a way that all but guarantees someone on Etsy will be selling stickers of them by the end of the week. This does make it weird, however, when you start marching them to their horrible deaths. Yes, thralls will straight-up perish if steered into hazards, and while this doesn’t reload a checkpoint – as is the case if, say, you send Lana ragolling off a cliff – the infinite resupply of replacements hardly discourages carelessness. In fact, sometimes it’s necessary to beat a puzzle, like hurling those rolling cloud bois into a fire pit to ignite the flammable trail they leave behind. Or using fish as shark bait. Or locking a giant bug in a cage, where it presumably starves to death offscreen. In my playthrough, Lana and Mui slaughtered their friends in all these ways and more. They may be the most prolific serial killer duo since the Wests, and yet the game never addresses, even ironically, their campaign of bloodletting.

In fairness, it’s all for a good cause. Having previously rescued her sister from robots, Lana must now rescue her niece from pollution, the innocent young’un having been poisoned by a mysterious boulder dumped by passing cultists like a radioactive Twix wrapper. This means the bulk of Planet of Lana 2 is framed around an epic fetch quest for cure ingredients, which probably doesn’t sound like the most exciting structure; I know my shoulders sagged when the shopping list first appeared onscreen.

But no – somehow, it works. Chiefly, the unguent hunt serves as an excuse to visit an even broader range of magnificently realised sci-fi biomes and facilities, all gorgeously presented in Planet of Lana’s handpainted style and adroitly scored with a soundtrack of pensive keys, swelling strings, and tense synth. The sequel is also more ambitious in how it uses these backdrops for dramatic setpieces, whether that’s a panicked dash through a burning jungle or the first quiet, suspenseful descent in a stolen submersible, though it ultimately values the original’s adventurous and hopeful atmosphere over action thrills. For every dash from killer bots, there’s at least one serene walk through sunkissed trees or past yet another gawkable vista.

The more segmented approach also opens up the chance for some flashback interludes to inject sweet, sweet Mui lore, illustrating a backstory and relationships that finally start to flesh out the little goober beyond Adorable Sidekick status. This, too, is a shrewd move. Lana and Mui’s friendship is the emotional heart of both games, and instead of just rerunning their original bonding, or wedging in some unlikely conflict betwixt girl and cat alien, these flashbacks subtly tinge it with tragedy: a pained past and conflicting loyalties that Mui, even with a higher degree of sapience than previously thought, can’t communicate to Lana until it’s too late. And not just because both parties speak in gibberish.

Unfortunately, while Planet of Lana 2 is a talented emotion-tweaker at the personal level, I wish it dove deeper into exploring its broader themes. The antagonistic cult, for instance, initially look like the unthinking bearers of some environmental message: they pillage the earth for resources, harmfully dump the waste, and slaughter animals, and not even for constructive reasons like solving a physics puzzle. This initially appears to be teeing up a Hayao Miyazaki-style polemic against our own planet’s ruination (appropriate, given the Spirited Away aesthetic, though less so on the game’s lack of shit-talking your son’s filmmaking abilities). Instead, these portrayals are mainly just shorthand for bastardry, their impact measured almost entirely on how they cause trouble for Lana’s immediate family.

This isn’t the only undercooked idea, either. The shining city, glimpsed in the key art and teased multiple times throughout the game itself? That’s explored properly for about three minutes, most of your time there spent navigating the sewage system and underground warehouses beneath it. Your visit occurs at a point in the story where there isn’t much time for sightseeing, but it’s such a stark departure from the untamed wilds you’re normally exploring – while maintaining the series’ eye-catching presentation standards – that it’s just a shame to leave so quickly.

It’s not quite Bestest Best material, then. But Planet of Lana 2 succeeds far, far more often than it dawdles. Its core puzzle-platforming benefits from some particularly canny mechanical improvements, scoring the unlikely achievement of becoming more complex without stumbling into head-stumping, teeth-grinding difficulty. And, once you escape those cold corridors, it’s even more of an audio-visual treat than the original. Still with, happily, a cat who actually listens to you.

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Mick Gordon, the composer for the forthcoming Atomic Heart, has further explained his decision to donate his entire fee to Red Cross Australia’s Ukraine Crisis Appeal, via a statement to Eurogamer.

Writing on Twitter yesterday, Gordon said he donated the fee “to stand in solidarity with the people of Ukraine”.

He continued: “I believe it is important to support pro-peace organisations, stand up for what is right and to help those in need, especially during times of crisis.”

Gordon’s decision was met with praise, though it also raised some eyebrows following concerns about Atomic Heart’s developer Mundfish. The company, which is headquartered in Cyprus, has seemingly hidden its Russian roots, denied it’s harvesting data for Russian authorities, and has been criticised for its overt Soviet themes.

A vague statement from Mundfish itself on its political stance and views on the war in Ukraine has also sparked criticism.

Now, in a statement to Eurogamer, Gordon expanded further on his decision to donate his fee towards the Ukraine Crisis Appeal, and commented on Mundfish itself.

“I donated to the Ukraine Crisis Appeal specifically because I wanted to help provide emergency relief and longer-term humanitarian support to people and communities affected by the war in Ukraine,” he said, before praising The Australian Red Cross for its “commitment to transparency and accountability in their fundraising and donation management”.

He continued: “As someone who started working on Atomic Heart almost two years before the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, I understand that the situation in the region is incredibly difficult and that many people have been affected by the conflict. I want to make it very clear that I vehemently condemn Putin’s violent aggression toward Ukraine and stand in solidarity with the Ukrainian people. It is unacceptable for any government to use military force to annex another country’s territory and violate international law and human rights principles. The ongoing conflict has resulted in widespread human suffering, and it is our collective responsibility to support those affected and work towards a peaceful resolution.

“My motivations are solely to support the Ukrainian people affected by the conflict. While I understand the appeal of making a private donation, transparency is important, especially regarding issues as serious as the conflict in Ukraine. By making my donation public, I hope to show my support for the Ukrainian people, raise awareness about the conflict, and encourage others to consider donating.”

Gordon praised Mundfish and the artistry of its international team.

“I believe it is important to separate the actions of a government from the actions of individual citizens,” he said. “The talented team at Mundfish has worked hard for many years to create a unique and imaginative project, and I am grateful for the opportunity to have contributed to it. The game is a truly international effort, with 130 developers contributing to the project from more than ten different countries. I deeply respect the artistry and creativity that went into the development of Atomic Heart, and I am grateful for the opportunity to work with the Mundfish team. I also have a strong ethical and moral obligation to help those in need and stand up for what I believe is right. I hope that by making my donation public, I can also encourage others to consider making a difference.”

Gordon’s Twitter statement also references his love for Soviet-era synthesisers, which influenced the score for Atomic Heart – alongside collaborators Boris Brejcha and Geoffrey Day.

“I developed custom-tuning scales for my synthesizers specifically designed to reflect the game’s insane robots and imaginative world-building,” Gordon added to Eurogamer. “One of the instruments I used to achieve this sound was the Aelita synthesizer, a rare Soviet-era synth known for its unusual sound and quirky design. Its distinctive sound helped me to capture the game’s surreal and imaginative qualities while also adding an authentic Soviet-era vibe to the music.

“I am incredibly proud of the work that my fellow composers and I did on the score for Atomic Heart.”

Atomic Heart is set for release on 21st February across PC, PlayStation and Xbox consoles. It will also be released on Game Pass.

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