Ape Escape 2

The right analogue stick does the work here, and that decision explains everything else. Every gadget Jimmy carries is swung, aimed or wound up by flicking that stick in a direction, which means catching a monkey is a small physical act rather than a button press. You creep up, time the net swing, and feel the difference between a clean grab and a flailing miss. Few platformers of the era asked for that kind of manual commitment.

Sony's Japan Studio built the sequel as a direct continuation of the DualShock showcase that opened the series on PS1, and the restraint is notable. The hardware got faster, the levels got bigger and busier, but the toolkit stayed close to what worked: stun club, monkey net, slingshot, a water gun, a remote-controlled car that scuttles into gaps Jimmy cannot reach. The Sky Flyer propeller and the Electro Magnet open routes rather than rewrite the loop. What changes is the monkeys themselves, who now wear the Pipo Helmets with more personality, patrolling, fishing, napping, panicking when they spot you.

The structure is old-fashioned in a way that has aged well. Levels are compact and layered, with monkeys tucked behind timing puzzles and alternate paths, and clearing a stage once rarely means clearing it completely. Going back with a later gadget to grab the stragglers is the real spine of the game, and the counter at the level select is an honest, unglamorous motivator. It is collection design with a skill floor, which is rarer than it sounds.

The weak points are the ones the series never solved. The camera fights you in enclosed spaces, and because the right stick belongs to the gadgets, you are stuck nudging the view with shoulder buttons while a monkey bolts. Boss fights lean on pattern memorisation and go on slightly too long. The tone is relentlessly cheerful, with Specter's monkey army and a plot about brainwashing television that never asks to be taken seriously, and some players will find the voice work wearing within an hour.

It is also one of the few PS2 platformers that still feels mechanically distinct rather than merely competent. Most of its contemporaries were chasing Mario 64's grammar with a bigger budget; this one built its own, then trusted it enough to repeat it. Years later, the satisfaction of a perfectly timed net swing on a monkey that almost got away remains entirely its own.