Professor Raventhorpe has a habit of appearing safely beyond an obstacle seconds after Ari risks his life crossing it. Ari swings over spikes, climbs a crumbling wall, or dodges falling stone. Raventhorpe strolls into view from a convenient side passage. The joke repeats, yet it captures Lifted better than any reference to its time machine: this is a platforming adventure that treats danger as a setup for friendly mischief.
Adventure Works builds its debut around the Anytime Elevator, an invention capable of reaching different historical periods while struggling with basic geographic accuracy. Raventhorpe wants Queen Nefertari’s tiara to impress history professor Dolores. Ari accepts the expedition for extra credit and hopes to return before his own date. Julius, the professor’s sharp-eyed chinchilla, comes along because every eccentric inventor apparently needs an animal assistant.
The setup draws openly from Back to the Future, with Raventhorpe filling the Doc Brown role and Ari serving as his more grounded companion. Its temples, pirates, treasure hunters, and orchestral flourishes carry equal amounts of Indiana Jones and family-era Disney. Familiarity is part of the invitation.
History as a Theme-Park Ride
Lifted turns history into a string of colorful attractions rather than an educational tour. Ancient ruins, snowy paths, jungles, pirate territory, and Mesoamerican-inspired spaces each introduce a new visual identity, then move aside before the scenery grows stale. The Anytime Elevator connects them with the logic of a theme-park vehicle: select a destination, endure a malfunction, and step into the next elaborate set.
Raventhorpe receives the clearer character arc. His mission begins as romantic vanity, with the professor convinced that stealing an ancient artifact is an entirely sensible declaration of affection. Ari spends much of the campaign reacting to that plan and performing the dangerous labor, which leaves him less developed. Their chemistry still works because the imbalance becomes part of the comedy. Raventhorpe supplies theories and shortcuts. Ari supplies the bruises.
The script is strongest when it comments on player behavior. After repeated failures, Ari asks for an easier method and receives a suggestion to check the settings menu. Raventhorpe claims ownership of a grappling-hook idea until Ari mentions Batman. Subtitle text adds jokes to grunts and nonverbal sounds. These moments tie the humor to the act of playing.
Constant one-liners are less effective. Ari and Raventhorpe chase a joke in nearly every exchange, so the rhythm becomes predictable. Supporting characters, including the weary adventurer who would rather open a pastry shop, occasionally land cleaner laughs because they are permitted to sound tired of the whole business.
Swing, Climb, Restart
The platforming resembles the exploratory sections of LEGO games, filtered through a cinematic 2.5D structure. Ari moves across a fixed path inside fully modeled 3D spaces while the camera rotates, zooms, and reframes the route. This produces sweeping views of temples and collapsing structures without demanding full three-dimensional control.
Ari begins with a jump and double jump, then gains a roll, wall climbing, rope swinging, grappling, ledge traversal, and movement across mud or ice. Wind alters his trajectory in later sections. These actions respond cleanly, especially during sequences built around consecutive swings or precise landings. Missing a rope usually feels like a mistimed input rather than the game withholding control.
Environmental puzzles use movable blocks, pressure plates, elevators, light beams, bounce surfaces, and objects placed near spikes or raised platforms. Raventhorpe often explains a mechanic during its first appearance, and each region rearranges familiar pieces rather than developing a complex puzzle language. The approach keeps younger players moving, though experienced platforming fans may keep waiting for the systems to combine in less predictable ways.
Cinematic chases supply the larger bursts of energy. Ari escapes collapsing temples, runs from hostile crowds, avoids rolling debris, and crosses broken minecart tracks. The temple sequences capture the amusement-ride spirit promised by the presentation. Several minecart passages feel oddly restrained, with movement that lacks the speed suggested by the scenery breaking around them.
Frequent checkpoints protect these sections from turning punishing. Death leads to an immediate restart, sometimes without interrupting the music. That choice matters when the final stretch introduces tighter timing and faster camera movement. The late spike feels imported from a harsher platformer, particularly when a rotating perspective makes jump distance difficult to read.
Built for a Broad Audience
Adventure Works gives players considerable control over difficulty. Timing windows can be widened, platforms enlarged, and puzzle hints made clearer through visual outlines. Subtitle options include multiple sizes, two text colors, several background effects, and adjustable opacity. Music, dialogue, and sound effects receive separate volume controls. The assists soften individual demands while preserving the need to execute jumps during later chase sequences.
The presentation reflects Jeffrey Ashbrook’s background as a former Disney Imagineer. Characters have floating hands and feet without connecting limbs, an initially strange design that fits the exaggerated animation once the game begins making jokes about it. Large environments often look stronger than close character shots, with temple complexes and snowy landscapes benefiting from the sense of scale.
A fully orchestrated score and wordless choir chase the musical language of 1980s and 1990s family adventures. The compositions are familiar in shape, yet they give rope swings and collapsing ruins the appropriate sense of ceremony. English voice performances maintain an energetic pace when the writing strains for another punchline.
Technical issues interrupt that polish in isolated spots. A movable box may remain trapped after Ari dies, forcing a section restart. Missing platforms or objects can require a return to the menu. Camera transitions occasionally redirect the player’s sense of movement at the wrong moment. Reported PC and Steam Deck performance is otherwise stable, and the linear structure suits portable sessions.
The campaign lasts roughly three hours, long enough to introduce its movement tools and historical stops, then ends before those tools mature into richer combinations. Lifted avoids repetition by leaving early. It also leaves with several promising floors still unavailable on the elevator.
The Review
Lifted
Lifted plays like a compact descendant of Back to the Future, LEGO platformers, and a Disneyland adventure ride. Its responsive swinging, generous checkpoints, and changing historical environments keep the three-hour campaign moving, while Ari and Raventhorpe give the familiar treasure hunt an affable comic rhythm. The lineage becomes restrictive when predictable jokes, simple puzzles, and underdeveloped mechanics leave the game feeling smaller than its premise. Camera shifts, late difficulty spikes, and occasional reload bugs cause avoidable friction, yet this remains a charming family platformer that knows when to leave the stage.
PROS
- Responsive platforming controls
- Distinct historical environments
- Generous checkpoint placement
- Extensive accessibility settings
- Spirited orchestral presentation
CONS
- Mechanics remain mechanically simple
- Predictable story and humor
- Abrupt late difficulty spike
- Occasional progression bugs
- Confusing camera transitions
