I booted up God of War Ragnarök expecting the clean, laser-focused punch of the 2018 reboot, just bigger, louder, and more confident. And it is bigger.
The game oozes production value, the camera work still feels seamless, and the world looks like it was built to make you pause and stare.
But a few hours in, I realized Ragnarök isn’t aiming to be a tight “one perfect ride” sequel.
It’s more like a full season of prestige TV: incredible highs, some detours, and a pacing rhythm that doesn’t always respect urgency.
I loved a lot of it. I also got annoyed more than I expected. And that mix is exactly what makes it worth talking about.
The Story Hooked Me Fast, Then It Kept Pulling Me Deeper
If Ragnarök has a superpower, it’s the way it makes you care. Kratos feels heavier, not just physically, but emotionally, like every decision costs him something.
Atreus, meanwhile, isn’t a passenger anymore. He’s becoming his own person, and the friction between them feels real in that “two people who love each other but don’t agree on the world” way.
What surprised me is how much the supporting cast matters. Brok and Sindri don’t feel like upgrade machines.
Mimir isn’t just exposition on a rope. Even characters who could’ve been simple “mythology cameos” get room to breathe and evolve.
The story also does this satisfying thing: a moment that feels small at first will click later, and suddenly it lands with far more weight than you expected. It’s not subtle all the time, but it’s effective, and it kept me moving forward even when the pacing wobbled.
Combat Still Feels Incredible, Even When It Stops Surprising Me
Moment to moment, fighting is still ridiculously satisfying. The axe has that crunchy impact. The Blades of Chaos remain pure controlled chaos.
Parrying is still addictive. And when the game throws you into the right kind of encounter, tight arena, multiple threats, perfect pressure, it sings.
But here’s what I noticed as the hours stacked up: Ragnarök doesn’t have the same “new toy” advantage the 2018 game had. The axe recall is still cool, but you’ve already felt that magic. So the sequel has to win by evolving the loop, not just repeating it with prettier explosions.
It succeeds most when it leans into variety, especially boss fights. Those are the moments where the combat feels like a true test, not just a routine.
Still, across a long runtime, regular encounters can drift into familiarity, and I definitely hit a few stretches where I felt the repetition more than I wanted.
The Pacing Isn’t Bad, It’s Just Weirdly Unfocused For A Game This Polished
Ragnarök starts with urgency and keeps reminding you that something massive is coming. And then, sometimes, it pulls you into activities that don’t match that urgency at all.
Not because side content is automatically a problem, some of it is genuinely great, but because the game’s structure occasionally feels like it’s padding the runway between the story beats that really matter.
I’m not against long games. I’m the type who can get absorbed in massive worlds if the moment-to-moment loop stays rewarding. Here, I felt the length. Not in the “I’m bored” sense, but in the “I’m doing chores to get back to the good part” sense.
There were sections where I thought: if this were trimmed by even 10–15%, the emotional punches would land harder, and the momentum would feel cleaner. The frustrating part is that Ragnarök has the confidence and quality to be tighter, but it just doesn’t always choose to be.
The Puzzles Kept Interrupting Me, And Then The Game Started Solving Them
This was the thing that hit my patience the most. The puzzles themselves are usually fine, simple, familiar, and meant to break up combat and traversal. The real issue is how quickly your companions start talking during them.
I’d walk into a puzzle area, take a quick look around, and within seconds, someone would start blurting out what to do, not a gentle hint, but basically the answer.
It kills the tiny “aha” moment puzzles are supposed to give you. And because the puzzles often aren’t deep to begin with, the hand-holding makes them feel even more like filler.
It created this odd vibe where the game doesn’t trust you to engage with its challenges, but also doesn’t fully trust the challenges to hold up on their own.
The end result is that puzzles stop feeling like a breather and start feeling like speed bumps; the game insists on pushing you over while narrating the process.
Progression And Gear Didn’t Pull Me Into Experimenting as I Expected
I usually love tinkering—testing builds, swapping armor, chasing upgrades that change how I play. In Ragnarök, I expected to do that constantly… and then I kind of didn’t.
Part of it is that the progression feels streamlined, making many upgrades less dramatic. I found a setup I liked and stuck with it because the game didn’t push me to rethink my approach very often.
Loot didn’t always feel exciting, and some unlock pacing felt oddly slow, like I was waiting longer than I should to get tools that would freshen up combat.
Nothing here is broken. It’s more than the system doesn’t consistently create that “ooh, I want to try this” feeling. In a game this long, that matters, because experimentation is one of the easiest ways to keep the journey feeling new.
When Ragnarök Hits Its Peak, It’s Honestly Unforgettable
Even with my complaints, there are moments in this game that will stick with me for a long time. The big narrative beats hit. The performances are genuinely strong.
The setpieces are the kind of thing you remember years later because they don’t just look cool, they feel earned.
And visually, it’s ridiculous. Realms feel distinct, creatures are imaginative, and the sheer polish is constant. I caught myself stopping just to take in the environment, even during sections where I was mildly annoyed by the pacing, which says a lot.
That’s the tension at the heart of Ragnarök: it’s filled with brilliance, but it sometimes buries that brilliance under detours, repetition, and design choices that don’t respect player agency as much as they should.
Final Verdict: Worth It….Just Know What You’re Signing Up For
I recommend God of War Ragnarök, no question, especially if you’re here for story, character work, spectacle, and those “wow” boss fights.
It delivers an emotional, high-budget journey that few games can match. But it’s not as tight as 2018. The pacing can feel padded, the puzzles are frequently undercut by aggressive hinting, and some systems don’t evolve enough to stay fresh for everyone across the full runtime.
If I played it again, I’d be more selective with side content early and stay focused on the main momentum until the game opens up naturally. Ragnarök is at its best when it trusts its strengths. When it doesn’t, you feel the drag.