Once Upon A Puppet Review

When you start Once Upon A Puppet, you enter a dark and warm world. From the start, it's clear that Once Upon A Puppet isn't just another puzzle shooter. It's an experience meant to make you think life is a performance.

In Once Upon A Puppet, every backdrop and every interaction underscores the game's commitment to storytelling and atmosphere, weaving a narrative that pulls you in as tightly as the spellbound spool that tethers its protagonists together.

In Once Upon A Puppet, you navigate a 2.5D puzzle platformer crafted by Flatter Than Earth and published by Daedalic Entertainment, released on April 23, 2025. The game's world is like a stage with two very different areas. The Front Stage is spotless and shiny, where the rich and powerful show, and the Understage is a mess of broken things and forgotten souls.

This smart set-up doesn't just look good; it also makes a strong statement about style, performance, and how much greatness costs. Throughout Once Upon A Puppet, you'll feel the weight of these themes pressing in on both sides of the split stage.

You control two unlikely partners bound together by a magical spool: Nieve, a former weaver and stagehand exiled from the Front Stage, and Drev, a scrappy puppet who can survive in the trash trenches below. In Once Upon A Puppet, Drev is controlled with L2 and the left stick, while Nieve responds to R2 and the right stick.

This dual-stick control creates a constant push-and-pull tension, like trying to walk in sync with someone on stilts. You're not meant to move together, yet you mst, and that push-and-pull becomes the beating heart of puzzle-solving, traversal, and narrative progression.

Once Upon A Puppet tells the story of Nieve, a once-revered weaver from the shining world of the Front Stage who is cast out after a failed performance tarnishes her reputation. When she awakens in the forgotten depths of the Understage—a realm of discarded props, broken dreams, and castaway puppets—she finds herself magically bound to Drev.

Together, you explore a world split between class and perfectionism to discover what's happening with Stage Fright, a mystery force that spreads fear and silence across both worlds. As you search for a way to sever your tether and return to the lives you once knew, Nieve and Drev are forced to confront not just the broken systems around them but their own beliefs, fears, and the very meaning of purpose, performance, and identity.

In Once Upon A Puppet, the central metaphor is laid bare in the operation of its world. On the Front Stage, everything must look immaculate—even if it means discarding anything that doesn't fit the image. When something is thrown away, it becomes scrap, forgotten until someone in the Understage deems it valuable.

You witness trash becoming treasure, both practically and thematically. This theme resonates through Nieve's arc: she begins the story worshipping King Caliban, believing that crafting a new outfit for him is her path to redemption. However, your perception begins to crack as you complete small quests, collect stained glass shards, and weave outfits from scavenged materials.

What is perfection, and who decides what belongs in the light and what deserves to rot in the dark? Through Nieve's transformation—and Drev's evolving view of the stage—you experience a beautifully written partnership full of wit, warmth, and quiet growth.

Gameplay-wise, Once Upon A Puppet isn't the most mechanically complex puzzle platformer, but it doesn't need to be. The beauty comes from the little things. As you play, you'll find spools that give you new skills, like double jumping, gliding, and more. These skills will give you more fun and complex ways to interact with the world.

You'll also find tools that let you change how you play, which keeps the pace light and the platforming exciting. It's like a paper model come to life; each area feels like it was made by hand. In Once Upon A Puppet, every level design choice reinforces the theatrical theme, making traversal feel like a choreographed performance where timing and rhythm are key.

Something darker lurks just behind the velvet curtains in Once Upon A Puppet. The enemies in the game, which are twisted dark figures called "Stage Fright," are more than just problems; they are fear itself. People rarely come into direct contact with these creatures, but they are always there, more in the background than in the real world.

You should avoid them, hide, and keep quiet when you do come across them, instead of fighting. This small mechanic adds to the game's themes of repression, performance anxiety, and the fears we try very hard to avoid.

The aesthetic of Once Upon A Puppet is a constant delight. Character designs are imaginative and striking, even if the variety of enemies is somewhat limited. The game more than makes up for this with the unlockable extra costumes found worldwide.

These costumes aren't just for looks; they also represent Drev's past as an actor and his journey of finding his voice. Finding and wearing these clothes makes you feel like you're enjoying Drev's change, and each one gives your game more charm and personality.

As with any performance, not everything runs flawlessly in Once Upon A Puppet. You'll encounter technical hiccups—glitches where characters get stuck in walls, physics puzzles breaking and requiring restarts, and noticeable slowdowns in busier scenes. None of these issues is game-breaking, but they break immersion, which stings a little in a game focused on the illusion of perfection.

Visually, Once Upon A Puppet's stage-like presentation oozes character. The environments are layered like a pop-up book, and characters move as if hanging from marionette strings: awkward, expressive, and completely charming.

Every animation has an undeniable sense of performance, a feeling that someone somewhere is always watching. This artistic style is matched by a playful score that celebrates happy times and changes to more somber tones during darker scenes. The audio cues and enemy noises are fun and different, adding to the dramatic feel.

Even though it has a silly plot, Once Upon A Puppet isn't afraid to look inside itself. Stage Fright's secret and the emotional weight of Nieve and Drev's journey grow. You're prompted to consider themes of identity, class, and disillusionment, to ponder what it means to be tied to someone you didn't choose and what you can learn from them anyway. Once Upon A Puppet asks you to navigate a world that discards what it fears and to find beauty in what's been thrown away.

Once Upon A Puppet delivers a solid puzzle-adventure experience that's quirky, heartfelt, and bursting with style. You might not find revolutionary mechanics here, but that's not the point. What matters is the beautifully staged story about what happens behind the curtain, where the scraps live, and where real magic often lies. From its clever world-building to the tender partnership between Nieve and Drev, Once Upon A Puppet offers a performance you won't soon forget.