Defaults of Parkour in Assassin’s Creed Shadows

After enjoying the open world in Assassin's Creed Shadows for a few hours, parkour is the one thing that sticks in my mind the most long after finishing the missions. Having a feature that once defined the series, parkour became the most essential and favorite part of Assassin's Creed gameplay. It was what made the world feel responsive and rhythmic; the joy of finding a creative route across the rooftops was something else. Regrettably, Shadows continues the series' diminishing return on this. It doesn’t completely fail, but it also doesn’t quite succeed. What is left is a system that feels functional, even sometimes stunning, but it is also lacking.

The first trailers for Shadows built anticipation for feudal Japan. The environments looked diverse and built for conquest; layered rooftops and tiered castles provided plenty of passage and vertical integration. As I climbed my first Japanese castle wall, I felt the nostalgic connection with the architecture and movement, a feeling that captured the essence of the Ezio-era games. But after a few hours, I realized that the parkour system still runs on the same fundamentals as Origins, Odyssey, and Valhalla—a system that prioritizes accessibility and cinematic flair, rather than precision and creativity.

How It Feels To Move

Firstly, the parkour basics are easy to understand. When you press the parkour button, the assassin moves over obstructions, scales walls, and moves along beams without you needing to direct the stick. It is quite responsive, but, unlike the earlier games, there is no subtlety in active player control. In Assassin's Creed II or Syndicate, the way you positioned and timed your jumps to grab hold of something was crucial in determining the climb's success or ledge’s grab. In Shadows, most of that fine control is missing. While the movement is consistent, and there is a mechanical predictability to it, you do not control the system substantially.

The transition from running to climbing to vaulting across a beam is a pleasure to watch, even if it is automated. Yasuke seems to move with heavier intent.  I appreciate the seemingly abstract difference, as it provides more character to each in the way they traverse the space around them.

Unfortunately, the parkour in Assassin's Creed Shadows seems more of a visual showcase than a functioning game mechanic. It is enjoyable to watch, but it does not provide the player with any real skill to demonstrate. The game does not challenge the player with the thrill of catching a ledge by the skin of their teeth or streamlining a difficult area in their own way. Instead, the player presses forward, and the game does the rest. It is seamless and cinematic, but it leaves the player in a more passive role, as if they are watching a performance instead of being a part of it.

The Incrementally Tall World

When it comes to the mechanics, the world does try. Japan’s buildings are quite the positive story from a dialogue perspective. The villages are dynamic, layered paths allowing for quite the acrobatic routing of ‘rooftop to balcony to courtyard.’ The rural shrines and temples of the forest, too, are layered, allowing for versatile climbing, perching, and leaping. These paths are clearly inviting in a way that makes following that rhythm, the movement lost, in a good way.

The system is inconsistent, however, and that is its biggest flaw. Not all surfaces that look climbable are, in fact, climbable. Some rock walls stop your progress for no conceivable reason. Some wooden constructs that look like you can grasp them keep you from climbing, for no apparent reason. This is all the more frustrating given how convincing the environment is. You’re broken from your flow state, and immersion in the movement is lost. You are allowed to explore, but the movement of the world is not. It is surprisingly not fluid.

In the earlier Assassin's Creed video games, the players would develop a feeling of trust toward the environment. You would know if there was a ledge, you could grab it. Shadows break that trust frequently. After dozens of hours, I was still surprised that a cliff or roofline could not be climbed. This does not happen all the time, but it is enough to discourage players from freely exploring the world.

Flow and Rhythm

In the early games, there was something quite magical about parkour, and it wasn't just the ability to climb; it was the ability to move seamlessly between surfaces. There was a sense of satisfaction in the ability to solve, in real-time, a complex and elegant puzzle made of a series of leaps, swings, and wall runs. Assassin's Cred Shadows recaptures a bit of that sensation in urban settings, especially in Kyoto and Osaka. The rooftops are close enough to let you smoothly chain movements, and the addition of bamboo poles and hanging ropes helps to regain some of the classic rhythm. The rooftops are often layered with subtle detail: wooden planks that creak underfoot, paper screens that flutter when you pass by, and narrow gaps that force quick adjustments, all adding texture to the experience, even when the underlying system was quite simple.

One small improvement that I really appreciate is the handling of ledge transitions. In previous RPG-era games, there would sometimes be a really awkward pause between grips. In Shadows, Naoe really opened the way to advanced ledge transitions. There is an understanding of gravity and balance as the shifting of body weight harmonizes with the movement of terrain. It is the little things that go a long way in the believability of character movement.

Even though I do relish some moments of grace, the lack of player agency in the system itself keeps it from reaching its full potential. Experimentation for those who buy Xbox adventure games was a hallmark of the older titles. You’d see a building and think, “I bet I can climb that differently this time.” In Shadows, there’s usually just one obvious and efficient path. The joy of discovery is gone. You’re following visual clues, not solving traversal puzzles.

The Missed Opportunity

The natural verticality, varied architecture, and even the trees and cliffs all begged for a re-imagined parkour system. Japan was the perfect choice for it. The ability to swing from hanging lanterns, climb temple ropes, and walk the ridges of roof tiles in intricate and dynamic ways would have been special. Instead, the game has stayed with the same climb and jump pattern Assassin's Creed Origins has.

One of the biggest missed opportunities is the lack of terrain-based improvisation. The environments are so beautiful, but they don’t really inspire you to move through them in interesting ways. A few missions offer chase sequences or infiltration routes that feature dynamic gameplay, but those moments are few and far between. After those segments, you return to automated climbing and straightforward jumping, which is boring.

Even the social spaces could have been integrated into the gameplay more meaningfully. Crowded markets, narrow alleyways, and festival rooftops are more than enough to inspire creative parkour design, but instead, these environments are designed to channel the player into ground-level stealth. This lack of social stealth tools amplifies the problem, leaving Naoe feeling strangely disconnected from the world.

The Small Joys

There are brief moments of brilliance. There are times when, just before dawn, I start climbing a temple, and I see the sun rising and glinting off the distant rooftops. It makes me realize that, even now, there are a few redeeming features. The parkour may not be challenging, but there is still an aesthetic satisfaction to be gained. The animation team is to be applauded for the seemingly realistic motion, despite the absence of mechanical depth in the system. Naoe’s posture when balancing in a crouch position on a thin beam, the way she gently stretches for a ledge, and the way she climbs are all moments that reflect underlying craftsmanship.

Some contextual parkour prompts provide small bits of pleasure, too. Some missions use climbing in a clever way, like in the case of avoiding patrols and tower scaling, or hidden garden alternate routes. Having mentioned how satisfying fast travel and viewpoints are, I must shed light on other aspects as well. Animations during synchronizations are beautiful, and the feeling of doing so from a great height remains a great pleasure. One of the best experiences offered by the detailed Japanese landscapes is the ability to gaze at the unfolding world. 

Conclusion

It is ‘elegant and beautiful’, yet ‘shallow and restrained’. For someone like me, who immensely enjoyed the creativity and freedom offered by the earlier games, I find the experience bittersweet. I can recognize artistry, yet the challenge is what I long for. While the system performs its tasks smoothly, there is a lack of flow to the art.

The Japanese world deserved a parkour system that appreciates its verticality, creativity, and flow. It’s not bad by any means; it’s simply a little underwhelming. I remember movement that was alive on the rooftops of Florence and the snowy trees of the Frontier. In Assassin's Creed Shadows, I feel like a passenger on a guided tour of a beautiful world.

The limitations, however, don’t take away from the quiet beauty of moving through the landscape. The echoing wooden rooftops, the swaying rope bridge, that joy of a sunset view from the temple spire—it’s moments like these that keep me returning to the series. Assassin’s Creed Shadows might not stoke the full fire of parkour's classic elegance, but it offers just enough grace and beauty to keep that ember alive.