Monster Hunter Wilds Would Be Better If We Could Play as the Weird Cat Sidekicks

I’m struggling with Monster Hunter Wilds. I’ve gone on record here at Paste with my general disinterest in Capcom’s massively popular series, but it finally got its dual blades in me with 2021’s Monster Hunter Rise. Unfortunately the brand new Wilds seemingly tries to split the difference between Rise’s faster, less cluttered, more newbie-friendly approach and the overwhelming, molasses-slow game that the Monster Hunter faithful apparently prefer, and the results aren’t really doing it for me. This might just be a personal failing; our own Moises Taveras called Wilds “an intoxicating concoction” in his preview earlier this month, and from a quick glance at social media the buzz seems good. For me, though, Wilds is one of those times when this job really feels like work.

It’s not even the game’s depth that’s driving me away this time. Although it doesn’t seem as streamlined as Rise was, Wilds also doesn’t seem to be as complex as Monster Hunter’s rep. Like I said: it’s splitting the difference. What’s driving me away is just the general aesthetic, more than anything else. Even with the greater performance of a PlayStation 5 behind it (Rise was a Switch exclusive) Wilds is a less attractive game. The first land you hunt in is a relentlessly beige sandscape, and the pronounced Asian influence in Rise’s aesthetic and culture has reverted back to a familiar Eurocentric style that makes Wilds look like countless RPGs before it. The actual monster hunter part seems, y’know, “fun,” but I haven’t dug that deeply into it yet. There’s so much about Wilds so far that makes me feel lethargic about the whole thing; even when I want to tackle some ornery buster I’m put off by how everything looks, by the lifeless but conversation-packed camp, by the pro forma characters and story that I have to sit through to get to the action. I came in with an open mind, and Monster Hunter Wilds just isn’t giving me anything to hang on to.

Except for one thing—one thing that should be the focus of the whole game. I’d be way more excited about Monster Hunter Wilds if I could play as a palico.

Palicos are the cat-like sidekicks that shadow hunters into battle. They provide little defensive and offensive perks during the hunt, and they look amazing while doing it; imagine a three-foot-tall cat walking on its hind legs, with a huge backpack and a floppy hat with ear flaps that makes the cat look like some ‘90s hipster in winter. Now imagine if it meows like a cat but can be understood perfectly by all the humans it encounters, with subtitles for each meow so those of us at home can keep up. And finally, imagine if, unlike real cats, it was remarkably loyal and useful and attentive to its master’s needs, instead of being a cute but largely indifferent acquaintance who could take or leave their human companions. That’s a palico, they’re perfect little buddies, and they could be so much more.

If a palico was the main playable character in Wilds instead of a human hunter, the game would instantly get a dramatic and narrative charge in addition to the evergreen visual dopamine shot of a bipedal cat swinging swords and axes at monsters 100 times its size. The buff, capable hunter, decked out in armor and a steely, unflappable mien, doesn’t have the vulnerability of a genuinely great hero. Due to their inherently adorable appearance and extreme size disparity, though, palicos would be nothing but vulnerability, even if one of the defining features of a cat is seeming too damn cool for everything. When a cat’s annoyed or overpowered they don’t cry or whimper, they snikt those claws out and hiss like a furry cobra and try to look strong and spiteful even as they’re plotting their escape plan. The vulnerability is implicit, and that false bravado would only make the dynamic between a palico and a monster even richer. 

This wouldn’t even be the first time you could play as a palico in a Monster Hunter game. “Prowler” mode in Monster Hunter Generations lets you slink about as a palico, and it’s a unique way to play that requires a different approach than the standard hunter. And that’s exactly what Wilds needs.

The hunters in Monster Hunter Wilds aren’t prefab or one size fits all. Their appearance is highly customizable, and you can even pitch their voice up or down. Giving my hunter a contrabassoon voice that sounds like he’s always speaking at quarter-speed has reliably been my greatest source of pleasure in this game. So I don’t want you to think that you’re locked into a small selection of generic heroes. Perhaps, if I had dumped a lot of time into the character creation tools, I would’ve come upon a character that excites me as much as any random palico does.

That would take time, though. Palicos don’t take time. There are basically three things you can change about them: their color, their markings, and their voice. (You can even have them speak in English instead of meows, if you’re utterly deranged.) Every palico is perfect from the start, and letting them flaunt that perfection on the hunting grounds would make Wilds a more interesting game. I mean, it’s a cat: what could be more of a natural fit for a game about hunting? As anybody who has ever owned an outdoor cat can you tell you, these little pals are nature’s perfect hunting machine. There’s no reason to think that wouldn’t hold true with monsters.

I’m not done with Wilds. I’m going to stick with it until I feel like I’ve cracked it, or at least until I have to move on to another game for work—whichever comes first. But I’d be way more excited about that if my hunter was a silly cat in a dumb hat and not the most generic RPG character ever designed. Monster Hunter isn’t the first game that would be improved by swapping out the lead and the sidekick, but I can’t think of many games that need it more. Honestly, I don’t even understand why there are humans in Monster Hunter Wilds at all. Who isn’t sick of humans at this point? If we can’t get palicos as the lead in these games, Capcom should at least rethink the name and give the world what it really needs: a game where monsters hunt down and destroy the humans making a mess of everything. 

Senior editor Garrett Martin writes about videogames, TV, travel, theme parks, wrestling, music, and more. You can also find him on Blue Sky.