TL;DR: ChainStaff is a clever, focused run-and-gun that turns one multifunctional ChainStaff into an endlessly entertaining toolkit. Retro vibes meet modern precision design in a colorful, challenging package that proves restraint can be just as exciting as excess. Highly recommended for fans of inventive platformers.

The exact moment ChainStaff clicked for me, I was knee-deep in the third stage, sweat practically fogging up my glasses, when I accidentally flung the ChainStaff not at an enemy but at a distant floating platform just to see what would happen. Instead of a dramatic death screen, the hook latched, I swung across a chasm like some deranged cyberpunk Tarzan, and landed right behind a cluster of goons who never saw me coming. That single accidental flourish sold me harder than any marketing trailer ever could. Here was a run-and-gun that didn’t just hand me bigger guns; it handed me one ridiculously versatile Swiss Army knife of a weapon and dared me to get clever with it.

From the very first run, ChainStaff feels like it was built by someone who grew up mainlining 8-bit classics but refused to let nostalgia become a crutch. Nathan Fouts and the team at Mommy’s Best Games have taken the side-scrolling action formula we all know and love, stripped it down to its bare essentials, and somehow made restraint feel exhilarating. You start with nothing more than a basic automatic rifle and the titular ChainStaff. That’s it. No sprawling upgrade trees full of missile barrages or screen-nuking ultimates. Just you, your rifle, and this gloriously multifunctional chain that quickly becomes the beating heart of every single encounter.

What makes the ChainStaff in ChainStaff such a stroke of genius is how organically its different roles bleed into one another. One second you’re using it to yank yourself across a gap while mid-air, the next you’re planting it as a temporary shield to block a hail of enemy fire, and a heartbeat later you’re reeling it back in to impale three foes in a single satisfying chain. The transitions never feel clunky or forced; they flow like muscle memory once you’ve put in the reps. I caught myself laughing out loud during one particularly chaotic boss fight when I realized I was using the same tool to both grapple to safety and set up a perfect counter-attack. It’s the kind of elegant design that makes you feel smarter than you actually are, and in a genre that often rewards pure twitch reflexes, that sensation is pure gold.

The world itself is a glorious fever dream that somehow mashes together Roger Dean’s prog-rock album art, early NES color palettes, and the kind of irreverent 90s action-movie dialogue that makes you grin even when you’re getting your pixels handed to you. Floating islands drift lazily in the background while garish pinks and teals scream across the foreground. Enemies explode into cartoonish gore that somehow never feels mean-spirited. The whole presentation walks that perfect line between loving homage and playful self-awareness. And yes, the soundtrack absolutely slaps. Deon van Heerden (the madman behind Broforce) delivers pulsing electronic rock that occasionally threatens to outshine the on-screen mayhem, especially during those tense platforming sections where one mistimed jump could send you plummeting into the abyss.

But don’t let the colorful, almost cartoonish exterior fool you. ChainStaff steadily ramps up the challenge in ways that feel fair but demanding. Early stages let you coast a bit on raw gunplay if you want, but the game quickly starts punishing careless approaches. Enemies don’t just stand there waiting to be shot; they leap, flank, and force you to think about positioning, timing, and that precious ChainStaff cooldown. Spacing becomes everything. I died more times than I care to admit because I got greedy with my rifle and forgot to treat the ChainStaff as both weapon and movement tool. The satisfaction of finally nailing a sequence, chaining grapples, blocks, and shots into one fluid dance, is the kind of high that keeps you coming back even after a string of frustrating deaths.

Then there’s the delightfully deranged “brain food” mechanic. Scattered soldiers throughout each stage can be harvested for temporary power-ups, but doing so comes with delicious moral weight. Gobble down too many brains and the surviving NPCs start eyeing you with suspicion, nudging you toward one of the game’s six possible endings. It’s campy, it’s weird, and it adds this wonderful layer of decision-making that turns every run into a tiny ethical tightrope walk. Do I boost my damage at the cost of looking like a monster to the locals? Or do I play it safe and grind for tech points to upgrade my rifle instead? The fact that both paths feel viable and fun is a testament to how thoughtfully the systems interlock.

What I love most about ChainStaff is how it respects your intelligence without ever feeling pretentious. It doesn’t drown you in tutorials or hand-holding; it simply drops you into its world and trusts that you’ll figure out the depth hidden inside its seemingly simple toolkit. In an era where so many modern run-and-guns pile on layers of systems and upgrades until the core loop gets buried, this game’s commitment to focus feels almost radical. It reminds me why I fell in love with the genre in the first place: that pure rush of mastering a limited set of tools and bending them to your will.

After ten stages of increasingly inventive platforming, combat, and creative problem-solving, I walked away convinced that less really can be more. ChainStaff doesn’t try to overwhelm you with options. Instead, it gives you one brilliant toy and invites you to break it in every possible way. The result is a fast-paced, precision-focused run-and-gun platformer that feels fresh even while wearing its retro influences proudly on its sleeve.

Verdict

In the end, ChainStaff is the kind of indie gem that sneaks up on you. What starts as a charming nostalgia trip quickly reveals itself as a masterclass in elegant game design, where one versatile weapon carries an entire experience on its surprisingly broad shoulders. If you’ve been craving a side-scrolling action game that rewards creativity, timing, and a little bit of mad scientist energy over simple button-mashing, this one’s absolutely worth your time and your reflexes.