The road to superheroism is generally fraught with much struggle and crippling grief. It is a heady calling that marries the desperate vigilante to the staunch idealist – all conveniently packaged in a bodybuilder’s bulging pectorals or a go-go dancer’s gravity-defying chest cannons.
It is generally not reached by possessing an IQ that looks like a shoe size, signing up for a reality TV show, or accidentally letting your colors run to shades of pink. (Kyle likes to call it purple, but those of us with eyes know better.)
In No Bull Intentions’ debut production, point-and-click game Supreme League of Patriots takes on the task of leaving absolutely nothing sacred on the American landscape – not politics, not pop culture, and certainly not Simon Cowell’s reputation.This Telltale-ish three-chapter (sorry, issue) saga centers around not-so-superhero Kyle Keever, police HQ janitor and all-around bumbling idiot, and his best friend Mel the Snarky Brit.
Thanks to an unfortunate accident with a washing machine, Kyle undauntedly dons a pair of purple spats, rallies to the moniker “The Purple Patriot”, and drags Mel (who has entirely too much condescension and wit to be relegated to mere sidekick status) with him to audition for a spot on America’s Got Superpowers.
…Supreme League of Patriots takes on the task of leaving absolutely nothing sacred on the American landscape – not politics, not pop culture, and certainly not Simon Cowell’s reputation.
When a freak accident turns his alter-ego – a super-conservative with ultra-aggressive opinions on foreign policy, women, and homosexuals – into his main ego and triggers real superpowers at the cost of his sanity, Kyle’s new mission in life is “to become the hero New York deserves, and definitely not the one it wants.” 
In spite of such illustrious origins, and for a game that should ostensibly be about superheroes, there actually isn’t all that much superhero action to be had.
Outside of several sections in the third issue, nearly all things caped, cowled, and comic book culture take a backseat to biting social and political commentary as Kyle and Mel navigate New York City to register as a true blue superhero.
With a manner so offensive it’s meant to be funny, The Purple Patriot is a caricature of a very specific sect of Republicans – so much so that the comedy frequently comes off feeling more than a little ham-fisted, especially stretched out over the course of three issues. The punchlines get lost, and the funny falls flat from the sheer mass of long, meandering dialogue it takes to make a point.
Mel in strict counterpoint is sharp, funny, and decidedly British – in some cases, perhaps a little too much so for those players across the pond (e.g. “chav” isn’t hard to imagine people getting, but “munter” personally required grilling the conveniently British boyfriend to understand).
Of course, Mel, too, is prone to fits of long-windedness and has a tendency to drone on. There are certain moments where he gives up on being witty altogether, and the liberal shade he throws Kyle’s way sounds more like an afterthought and a weak attempt at keeping character.
This is not much helped by the fact that the very nature of point-and-click games works against them. It’s an unfortunate nitpick of mine that over the course of clicking certain objects more than once (unavoidable in this game as it is in nearly every other), there is absolutely no option to skip through the dialogue, even if you’ve already heard it over three or four times.
(Note: In the recent patch update, the developers have made some changes to this.)
What saves Supreme League of Patriots from mediocrity is the game’s own cheeky self-awareness.
It has absolutely no problem poking fun at itself, its genre, and its subject matter – and for this reason, while Kyle and Mel’s hijinks won’t necessarily have you on-the-floor-laughing, it will keep you smiling all the way through.
It’s also important to note that this game is fun – and a rather refreshing take on the usual point-and-click genre to boot. It eschews the usual methods of dragging out playtime by throwing in lists of unimportant objects you need to collect or forcing you to talk to absolutely everybody by simply delivering on their company promise: no bull.
Instead you get a wealth of fully voice-acted, fleshed-out characters, puzzles that will remind you of bygone LucasArt days, and a general flashy, feel-good vibe – all of which more than makes up for the jokes that may not conform to your taste.
You can find Issue 1: A Patriot is Born for $6.49 CAD or the entire Season Pass for $16.99 CAD on Steam and the Phoenix Online Studios Store.
