When the PlayStation Vita launched in 2012, it wasn’t entering a friendly market—it was diving into a portable arena dominated by Nintendo and rapidly being eroded by mobile gaming. Sony’s handheld needed a statement piece, something bold enough to prove that the Vita wasn’t just a prettier PSP—it was a game-changer. That’s where Gravity Rush came in.
Developed by Japan Studio’s Team Gravity, Gravity Rush dared to be different. It didn’t just showcase the PS Vita’s dual analog sticks and motion controls—it relied on them. This was a game that asked you to tilt, tap, and dive headfirst into a world with no up or down. In a launch lineup packed with ports and safe bets, Gravity Rush stood alone.
The pressure was immense. Not only did it have to wow players visually and technically, it had to validate the PS Vita’s unique features—like motion controls and touch input—while delivering a full, console-quality experience on the go. It wasn’t enough for Gravity Rush to be “pretty good for a handheld.” It had to be special.
But was it too overly ambitious? In this review, you’ll discover whether Gravity Rush is still an essential game worth experiencing on Sony’s underrated handheld.
Story Overview
At first glance, Gravity Rush might not seem like it’s telling a particularly gripping story. You start off as Kat, an amnesiac girl in a crumbling city. She takes on odd jobs, helping citizens, and dealing with some vaguely-defined threats. It’s charming, sure, but a little meandering. The early hours feel more like world-building than world-shaking. But give it time—because when the story kicks in, it really takes flight.
Unlike the traditional superhero origin story, Gravity Rush doesn’t hand Kat a clear mission or tragic backstory. Instead, her heroism emerges from a series of chaotic events. One minute she’s helping a child find his way home, the next she’s toppling giant Navi creatures from the sky and saving entire districts. There’s a randomness to her rise—but it feels organic, lived-in, and refreshingly unforced.
Kat’s strength isn’t rooted in vengeance or responsibility—it’s rooted in kindness. She steps in not because she has to, but because she chooses to.
That journey, slow and scattered as it sometimes feels, pays off. The further you go, the more the plot tightens. Themes of identity, belonging, and control over one’s fate begin to rise to the surface. And Kat, once a confused amnesiac, evolves into a figure of myth—a symbol of hope for a city constantly on the brink.
By the final chapters, Gravity Rush reveals that it was always playing the long game. Plot threads that seemed random at first suddenly tie together. The stakes rise. The characters deepen. And Kat’s journey transforms from a quirky personal quest into something mythic.
So yes, it takes a while to get there. But when it does, the payoff is worth it. This isn’t just a superhero story—it’s a surrealist coming-of-age tale wrapped in comic book panels and powered by gravity.
Gameplay: The Art of Falling in Style
At the heart of Gravity Rush lies its signature mechanic: the ability to control gravity. And not in a gimmicky, momentary “float for a few seconds” kind of way—we’re talking full-on, direction-shifting, physics-breaking movement that turns the world into your playground. Running on walls? Standard. Soaring through the sky? Routine. Falling up? That’s just Monday for Kat.
This isn’t just for show, either. Nearly every aspect of the game is built around this mechanic. Movement becomes a thrilling, disorienting dance of launching, redirecting, and crash-landing your way across floating cityscapes. There’s a moment of pure joy the first time you fall sideways off a building, reorient mid-air, and land perfectly on a distant rooftop like a superhero. The game doesn’t just let you defy gravity—it dares you to master it.
Combat gets the gravity treatment, too. Kat’s gravity kick, her bread-and-butter move, turns her into a guided missile, hurling herself at enemies from all angles. You’re not just fighting on a flat plane—you’re attacking from above, below, and every weird in-between angle. It’s exhilarating, even if occasionally chaotic.
Exploration is perhaps where the mechanic shines brightest. Traditional platformers ask you to work with gravity; Gravity Rush asks you to break it. The verticality of Hekseville becomes a sandbox, full of hidden gems and secrets tucked into the sides of buildings or beneath floating platforms. Suddenly, “off the beaten path” means floating underneath an entire district to find a challenge mission or collectible.
It’s a mechanic that takes time to wrap your head around, but once it clicks, it’s hard to go back to anything more grounded. In a sea of games that play by the rules, Gravity Rush invites you to rewrite them—and then dive headfirst into the unknown.
One of the boldest decisions Gravity Rush makes is how deeply it leans into the PS Vita’s unique hardware features. Tilt to aim. Swipe to dodge. Tap the screen to interact. On paper, it’s a tech showcase—a love letter to everything the Vita can do. In practice? It’s a bit more complicated.
At first, the motion controls feel like magic. Tilt the system and the camera subtly shifts, helping you line up gravity kicks with pinpoint precision. It’s immersive in a way most handhelds don’t even attempt. Navigating the skies of Hekseville by physically moving your console feels like you’re holding the world in your hands. That’s not nothing.
But then the novelty wears off. The honeymoon fades. And suddenly, you’re trying to aim mid-battle while your hands are contorted into weird angles, desperately trying to re-center the camera before Kat slams face-first into a wall. The touch-based dodging? Fun in theory, finicky in execution. There’s a reason physical buttons exist, and Gravity Rush sometimes forgets that.
Worse still, the game never really gives you the option to not use these controls. There’s no “traditional mode,” no easy way out. You play the game their way, or not at all. For a tech demo, that’s fine. For a 20-hour action-adventure? It can feel exhausting.
Still, there’s something admirable about the commitment. This wasn’t lazy integration—it was ambitious, full-throttle experimentation. And while the execution stumbles at times, there’s no denying that Gravity Rush tried to redefine what a handheld game could feel like. Love it or loathe it, the motion control mania is a core part of the experience—and a big reason the game remains unforgettable.
When Innovation Trips Over Itself
For all its ingenuity, Gravity Rush often finds itself at odds with its own ambition. The same mechanics that make the game so distinctive—gravity shifting, motion aiming, touch-based controls—are also what make it, at times, maddeningly inconsistent. It’s the classic case of a game reaching for the stars and occasionally faceplanting on the way up.
Combat is where things get particularly messy. Kat’s gravity kick is meant to be her signature move, a dynamic way to attack enemies from any angle. But the hit detection is unreliable, the aiming finicky, and the camera… let’s just say it has a mind of its own. Battles often devolve into awkward spirals through the air, as you circle your target hoping the lock-on system finally decides to cooperate. It’s less “precision strike” and more “cosmic bumper cars.”
The game also doesn’t do much to ease you into its quirks. There’s a steep learning curve, and the trial-and-error nature of some boss fights can wear thin. Getting smacked out of the air by a Navi you couldn’t see because the camera flipped upside down isn’t exactly satisfying. It’s frustrating—not because the game is too hard, but because it doesn’t always play fair.
Then there’s the issue of control fatigue. Over a few minutes, tilting and tapping feels cool. Over a few hours? It starts to wear you down. The Vita’s rear touchpad—already divisive—rarely feels necessary here, but it’s yet another layer of interaction that adds to the cognitive load.
Gravity Rush doesn’t fail because of these elements, but they do hold it back from true greatness. It’s a game bursting with ideas, but sometimes those ideas get tangled in their own execution. The result is an experience that swings big, dazzles often, but occasionally trips over its own stylish boots.
Boss Fights
From the moment the Navi appear—those swirling, shadowy creatures with glowing weak points and ever-shifting forms—it’s clear that Gravity Rush isn’t settling for generic enemy design. These aren’t just cannon fodder—they’re a statement. Stylish, alien, and often unsettling, the Navi feel like they drifted in from a dream… or maybe a nightmare.
What makes the Navi compelling isn’t just their look (though their slick, oil-slick aesthetic definitely leaves an impression). It’s how they interact with the gravity mechanics. Most of the time, they’re not on the ground waiting for you—they’re floating, flying, or sprawling across surfaces at weird angles. You have to think in 3D. Attacks come from above, below, and behind. Your movement has to be fluid, constantly shifting as you launch from building walls or redirect mid-air to avoid their counterattacks.
Each Navi type introduces a new wrinkle. Some require precision targeting of multiple glowing orbs. Others are massive boss-like beasts that force you to stay mobile, launching gravity kicks and dodging swipes mid-flight. And just when you start getting comfortable, the game throws in bigger, more aggressive variants that practically demand aerial agility.
The combat can get chaotic, but it’s never mindless. The Navi force you to strategize on the fly—literally. You’re always adjusting your approach, timing your attacks, and rethinking your angles. It’s not just about brute force; it’s about finesse.
And even when the game’s controls occasionally fight back, the Navi keep things interesting. They’re strange, sure—but they’re memorable. They’re the perfect match for a game that refuses to stay grounded.
Graphics & Level Design
If there’s one thing that Gravity Rush nails from the moment you boot it up, it’s style. Not just in the flashy sense—but in the fully-realized, top-to-bottom, art-meets-worldbuilding kind of way. This game doesn’t just look good—it looks distinct.
From its cel-shaded characters to its sweeping, sky-piercing skylines, Gravity Rush feels like a graphic novel in motion. The comic book influence is everywhere: the story unfolds in motion-framed panels with swipeable dialogue boxes, while the action is splashed with bold lines and dynamic angles. It’s not just a gimmick—it’s a storytelling device that enhances the tone and gives the game a rhythm all its own.
Then there’s the world itself—Hekseville, a floating city suspended in the clouds, part steampunk dream and part post-industrial puzzle box. It’s moody and beautiful, with towering structures, winding alleys, and vertigo-inducing drops that beg to be explored. The muted color palette blends bronze, stone, and smog with sudden splashes of color from neon signs or Kat’s red scarf. It’s melancholic, mysterious, and somehow cozy all at once.
The visual identity also carries a certain timelessness. Unlike many games that age quickly as hardware improves, Gravity Rush’s art direction sidesteps realism and instead embraces atmosphere. The result? It still looks gorgeous today. In fact, it might look better now—because we can appreciate how much thought and personality went into every detail.
It’s no exaggeration to say the art direction makes the experience. It elevates every moment, from gravity-defying stunts to quiet scenes in Kat’s apartment. It tells the story without words. And it ensures that, even years after release, Gravity Rush continues to stand out—not just as a Vita classic, but as a visual masterpiece.
Soundtrack & Atmosphere
There’s a certain magic to Gravity Rush—and a lot of it comes down to the music. Kohei Tanaka, best known for his sweeping, orchestral work on Sakura Wars and One Piece, composed a score that doesn’t just complement the world of Hekseville—it completes it. It’s cinematic, expressive, and full of personality, transforming the city’s floating neighborhoods into operatic stages of emotion and scale.
From the brassy bombast of battle themes to the whimsical, Parisian flair of the main plaza, every track feels hand-stitched to the mood of the moment. There’s grandeur, sure—but there’s also warmth and wonder. When you’re soaring through the sky, twisting gravity around towers and domes, the music swells with a sense of freedom that’s impossible to fake. You’re not just playing a game—you’re inhabiting a world.
But it’s not all sweeping strings and heroic crescendos. Tanaka also weaves in subtle melancholy, especially during quieter story beats or when exploring the city’s more desolate sectors. The sound design plays its part too—echoing winds, distant clatter, and the faint hum of floating platforms all feed into a dreamlike atmosphere that makes Gravity Rush feel untethered from reality in the best way.
Like its visuals, the soundtrack gives Gravity Rush a timeless identity. It’s not chasing trends or filling space. It’s telling the story. Every cue, every motif, feels like part of Kat’s journey—from confusion, to discovery, to heroism. And by the time the credits roll, the music lingers in your memory like a lullaby from another world. It’s not just background music. It’s gravity for your emotions.
Side Missions and Worldbuilding
In a lot of games, side missions are padding. Fetch quests. Recycled objectives. Filler content to stretch out the runtime. But in Gravity Rush, they’re something more. They’re extensions of the world—quiet windows into its rhythm, its people, and Kat’s place within it.
Whether you’re helping a struggling miner fend off Navi, assisting a lovesick delivery guy with gravity-defying cargo, or stepping in as a stunt double for a local film shoot, these missions often veer into the unexpected. Some are funny. Some are heartfelt. A few are downright bizarre. But most importantly, they feel lived in. You’re not just checking boxes—you’re learning about Hekseville and the colorful (if sometimes troubled) lives of its residents.
There’s a layer of character development baked into these moments too. Kat doesn’t just save the world—she listens, helps, and connects. Every odd job builds her reputation, not just as the “Gravity Queen,” but as a person who shows up when no one else will. These small acts of kindness, defiance, or just pure curiosity flesh her out more than any cutscene ever could.
And the city itself rewards your engagement. With each completed mission, new districts open up, visual details evolve, and the vertical sprawl of Hekseville starts to feel like home. There’s a strange joy in flying off the main story path just to soak in a floating courtyard or chase down a hidden collectible through spiraling architecture.
In short, the side content in Gravity Rush isn’t throwaway—it’s storytelling by way of interaction. Optional, yes. But if you skip it, you’re missing the soul of the game.
Final Verdict
Gravity Rush isn’t perfect—but few games dare to reach as high. As a PS Vita launch title, it had the near-impossible task of showcasing brand-new hardware, pushing the boundaries of handheld storytelling, and introducing a fresh IP with an experimental control scheme. And yet, despite the weight of all that gravity, it soars.
Yes, the controls can be finicky. The motion-based combat and navigation occasionally feel like they’re pulling you in too many directions—sometimes literally. And the learning curve? Steep. But the game’s heart is undeniable. It’s brimming with imagination, anchored by a charismatic lead in Kat, and wrapped in a world that feels both whimsical and weighty.
The visuals are timeless, the soundtrack unforgettable, and the story—once it gets going—builds into something truly special. There’s ambition here. Soul. A willingness to be weird, and beautiful, and bold.
If you’re willing to embrace its quirks—and forgive a few stumbles along the way—Gravity Rush rewards you with one of the most memorable handheld adventures of its generation. It’s a game that takes risks, and even when it falters, you can’t help but admire the view. Let go, fall in, and see where the gravity takes you.
Verdict
Gravity Rush
Great
