Completely Stretchy Review: Sticky-Arm Grappling Is Its Best Trick

Completely Stretchy earns its name with one brilliantly stupid idea: I woke up blue, rubbery, and able to fire a sticky arm across almost every surface in sight, and I immediately wanted to fling myself across the Grombi Isles. That arm carries the whole game. When I was sailing past a tower, snagging a wall at the last second, then slingshotting myself toward a distant Elektro, I had a grin on my face. When a stray wall stole my momentum or the game chose a pull when I wanted a swing, I felt the design’s limits just as sharply.

I came away convinced that Completely Stretchy is a worthwhile cozy buy for anyone who wants a compact, traversal-first platformer with a goofy personality. I also came away wishing the island had given that exceptional movement system more to chew on than a few hours of feather-light errands.

Key Takeaways

• I found the long sticky arm genuinely fun to use, because I could grab buildings, cliffs, trees, ceilings, and loose objects rather than hunt for designated grapple points.
• I enjoyed the arc of collecting Elektros and improving my arm’s reach and adhesion, since every upgrade made the island feel smaller and more playable.
• I found the swing-and-pull physics forgiving enough to encourage reckless experimentation, though they could also turn a clean route into an awkward stop.
• I liked the absurd world and its oddball characters, but I felt the quests worked best as excuses to move rather than as memorable objectives in their own right.
• I would recommend it on PC to players happy with a short, low-pressure adventure built around movement rather than challenge, combat, or a dense story.

The Sticky Arm Makes Every Wall Look Like an Invitation

I began Completely Stretchy as the victim of a spectacularly unsafe lab accident. The accident painted my body blue and gave me a single absurdly long sticky arm, and I spent the rest of the game treating Grombi Isles like a playground built for bad decisions. I could throw my hand at a roof, a cliff face, a tree trunk, a distant ledge, or the ground beneath me, then let the arm yank or carry me through space.

That freedom matters because I never felt boxed into a prescribed route. I could climb the side of a building by repeatedly grabbing higher surfaces. I could latch onto a point above a gap and let my momentum carry me around it. I could throw my arm forward to pull myself across flat ground faster than running. I could even use the same limb to pick up people, retrieve a distant object, or carry a quest item back to where it belonged.

I loved how one interaction tool handled so many jobs without burying me in buttons or separate gadgets. The arm became my movement system, my climbing tool, my grabber, and my progression path. That simplicity gives Completely Stretchy its cleanest strength: I always understood what I could try, and the answer was usually “grab it and see what happens.”

The best moments came when I stopped moving cautiously. I would spot an Elektro tucked beyond a rooftop or behind a piece of vertical terrain, fire my arm toward the highest available surface, release at the top of the arc, and catch another wall before I fell. The game rewarded that kind of improvised route-making. I never needed the island to be massive because crossing even a modest stretch of it became a tiny physical stunt.

Swinging Feels Great Until the Physics Steal the Rhythm

I found two different movement behaviours sharing the same arm: swinging and pulling. A high attachment point let me hang and build a useful arc, while a more direct grab reeled me toward the point I had hit. Completely Stretchy expects me to read the angle of my throw, choose my timing, and release at the right moment. Once I had lived with that for roughly half an hour, I started moving with purpose rather than merely flailing.

The problem is that the game does not always make that choice feel fully mine. I had stretches where I aimed to swing around a corner and got dragged upward instead, killing the speed I had built. I also had the reverse problem: I wanted a quick pull over a short gap, only to end up dangling beneath my attachment point. The generous grabbing system saved me from many falls, yet that same generosity could make nearby geometry feel sticky in the wrong way. A random wall was sometimes less a useful handhold than a brake slammed directly into my route.

I accepted those rough edges because the game rarely punishes failure harshly, and because landing a long chain of grabs still feels fantastic. Completely Stretchy has floppy, playful physics rather than precise athletic physics. I had more fun when I treated the arm like an elastic toy with momentum than when I demanded surgical control from it.

I would still warn players who feel motion sickness from fast first-person camera movement. My view could whip around during a fast swing, especially when I attached too close to a surface and had to correct my direction quickly. I could manage it by slowing down and using more direct pulls, but the wilder traversal routes made the camera a real part of the challenge.

Elektros Give the Island a Simple but Effective Progression Loop

I spent much of my time chasing Elektros, the little escaped electrical creatures scattered around the islands after the factory disaster. I brought them back to machines, restored power, and used that progress to open areas and improve my stretchy capabilities. The loop is deliberately uncomplicated, which suits the game’s breezy mood.

I particularly liked seeing my arm become longer and stickier as I gathered more Elektros. Early on, I had to work close to the ground and think about where I could safely attach. Later, I could reach farther, stay connected longer, and turn more of the scenery into a viable route. The upgrades did not transform the controls, but they made me feel increasingly capable within the same rules. A distant ledge that had looked annoying early on became an easy launch point later.

That growth keeps the short adventure moving, though I never found the collecting itself especially deep. I chased Elektros because I wanted the extra reach, access to a new spot, or another excuse to swing across the map. I did not chase them for elaborate puzzles or demanding exploration challenges. Completely Stretchy knows exactly what it wants to foreground, and that is the feel of getting from one place to another.

The Goofy Quests Are Pleasant, but They Cannot Carry Much Weight

I enjoyed the Grombi Isles most when they put a ridiculous little problem in front of me and let my elastic arm solve it. The inhabitants have the right kind of oddball energy for a world where I can casually scoop somebody up, grab an object from across a gap, or scale a wall like a blue piece of chewing gum. The tone stays playful, colourful, and intentionally low-stakes.

The quests, however, are thin by design. I mostly used them as prompts to visit another corner of the island, test an upgrade, retrieve an item, or interact with someone in a way that made use of the arm. They are seasoning, not the meal. I never found myself invested in an intricate narrative thread or a complex chain of objectives, because Completely Stretchy never asks for that kind of attention.

I think that restraint works across the game’s compact runtime. I saw most of what Completely Stretchy had to offer in a couple of relaxed hours, and I appreciated that it did not stretch its material into a longer, emptier expedition. Yet the brevity also exposes how dependent the whole experience is on the initial joy of movement. Once I had mastered the basic pull, swing, climb, and grab routines, the quest structure did not add much fresh pressure or surprise.

I never needed more combat because the game’s identity has no room for it. I wanted more inventive traversal situations instead: stranger routes, trickier spaces, or objectives that made me use the arm in unexpected combinations. The island gives me enough reasons to keep moving, but it rarely challenges the arm system as hard as I wanted it to.

Who Completely Stretchy Fits

I would hand Completely Stretchy to anyone who values the sensation of traversal above nearly everything else. I found its best rhythm in the moments where I ignored the most direct path, climbed too high, swung too far, and recovered with a desperate last-second grab. Players who enjoy experimenting with momentum, elastic movement, and forgiving environmental interaction will find plenty to enjoy in that loop.

I would skip it if I wanted a demanding platformer, substantial quest writing, difficult puzzle design, or a lengthy adventure. I found the world charming, but its errands remain light and its content runs out quickly. The game earns its place through pure tactile amusement, not through scale or complexity.

Bottom Line

I had a good time with Completely Stretchy because its sticky arm makes movement feel immediate, expressive, and gloriously silly. I could turn an ordinary building into a climbing route, an open gap into a swing line, and a distant object into something I could snatch without taking the sensible path. That is a strong foundation for a short adventure.

I also felt every wobble in the physics and every moment where the quest structure ran out of ideas. The arm occasionally fights the clean movement fantasy it creates, and the island never builds enough around that mechanic to turn a great toy into a truly rich platformer. For a few stress-free hours of elastic, blue-limbed chaos, I still think Completely Stretchy is easy to recommend.