
Worms: Open Warfare is one of those games that quietly reminds you how much narrative potential lives inside a sausage-shaped creature with a penchant for explosives. On paper it's a tidy 2D artillery tactics title - teams of worms, an armory of ridiculous weapons, and a soft spot for banana bombs - but if you squint at the battlefield like it's a soap opera stage, the worms start hitting their marks with genuine dramatic timing. The game returns the franchise to its classic sideways charm, swapping the 3D experiments for sprite-based mayhem and emphasizing turn-based tactical cruelty. This review takes the slightly irresponsible approach of treating each worm as a character with an arc: the rookie, the flamethrower-philosopher, the veteran who never trusts the wind, and the watery antagonist that always shows up to drown the plot (literally). Expect a balanced look at the mechanics - the 60-second turns, 100 HP per worm, sudden death that slashes everyone to 1 HP after 20 minutes - and a mock-epic character study full of sarcasm and genuine affection.
At heart Open Warfare is an exercise in controlled chaos. Each team fields a squad of worms with 100 hit points apiece. Players take turns - typically 60 seconds to move, strategize, or lob a grenade into a very specific patch of dirt where an enemy worm happens to be having a bad Tuesday. The limit of one attack per turn forces a strange kind of tactical discipline. You learn to pause, breathe, and consider whether this is the time to spend your slot on a precision bazooka shot or to drop an air strike and hope the physics gods are in a generous mood. The weapon list reads like a comedy arms fair: grenades, homing missiles, bazookas, cluster bombs, banana bombs (the franchise signature), dynamite, air strikes, shotguns and more. Each weapon is a character trait as much as a tool. The grenade is the reckless teenager, the homing missile is the stalker ex, and the banana bomb is the show-off who arrives to steal the scene and explode spectacularly. Crates are the little plot devices that fall from the sky, offering health and weapons like deus ex-machina with parachutes; they can swing momentum and redraw allegiances mid-battle. The water level mechanic acts as a slow, rising antagonist that forces a dwindling-no-escape subplot - the coastline creeps inward and turns otherwise confident worms into clumsy swimmers. Rounds are capped with a twenty-minute timer, and when the clock hits zero the writer - or rather the game - flips the script and turns every worm's HP to a single point. Sudden death is the equivalent of an unexpected season finale: every throw, shot and wind calculation gets magnified. Multiplayer plays like a dramatic ensemble cast. Local matches are where the game shines: friends (or people who pretend to be civil) trade barbs, hurl banana bombs, and narrate their own worm's demise with shrieks and laughter. Online play is conspicuously absent from the original handheld releases, which is a shame because the title's best punchlines happen in multiplayer. The AI, as reviewers pointed out, is a bit like a secondary character who forgets their lines: serviceable for practice, frustrating when you expect calculated competition. The career or mission structure is less about plot development and more about teaching you how to turn the tiniest ledge into a murder mystery. Your worm's arc is dictated by the choices you make each turn: timid survivalist, ballistic artist, or reckless demolitionist. The balance between movement, environmental hazards and the weapon set creates emergent stories: the redemption of a worm who survived three air strikes, the tragic fall of a worm who misjudged a jump into rising water, and the slow, inevitable hubris of the team that refuses to trade crates.
Open Warfare's visuals lean into the series' cartoon sensibilities. Returning to 2D was a deliberate choice that gives each worm expressive little animations and makes every exploding crater feel intimate. Reviewers appreciated the graphics for being clean, charming, and readable on handheld screens - a necessary virtue when you need to aim a bazooka while being jostled on a train. The art direction supports the comedic tone: weapons feel over-the-top, the environments are colorful, and the UI keeps the important stuff visible without turning the screen into a cluttered instruction manual. GamesRadar singled out the graphics as a highlight, and it's easy to see why: the sprites and backgrounds do the heavy lifting of character and mood so the gameplay can focus on delivering punchlines. Where the presentation stumbles is not in look but in connectivity. The absence of online multiplayer on the original releases leaves the graphics and charm confined to local showdowns - imagine a blockbuster rom-com that never left its hometown. For players who want to trade barbed one-liners with strangers across the world, that's a missed opportunity; for groups of friends in the same room it's a deliciously retro treat.
If you approach Worms: Open Warfare expecting a narrative in the traditional sense, you'll be disappointed - there's no multi-episode arc with character development, unexpected twists, or a worm-based redemption montage. What the game does offer, and does slyly well, is a tapestry of micro-stories. Each death is a mini-tragedy; each lucky crate drop is a plot twist; the water level is an omnipresent antagonist that forces characters into last-ditch heroics. Critics gave the PSP version roughly universal mid-to-good scores (around 70/100) and the DS slightly lower, reflecting a title that's solid, charming, and occasionally held back by missing online features and uninspired AI. For people who like strategy served with a side of slapstick and who enjoy character-driven chaos, Open Warfare is a compact dose of delight. The worms themselves carry more story than the developers ever promised: they die, they come back next round, and they keep auditioning for the role of 'beloved explosive troublemaker.' That loop is surprisingly satisfying. Final verdict: a reliably funny tactical romp that rewards creativity, curses the wind, and makes even a banana feel like a character with unresolved feelings - 7/10.