First impressions of One More Line are like your device has been propelled into some kind of retro-futurism in space.

Everything's all minimalism, bright colours, and burbling synth riffs. Tap the screen and an electronic voice hisses "One More Line", and you're off.

Seemingly standing by your side, Giorgio Moroder plays his latest instrumental classic, while being remixed live by the Chemical Brothers on some kind of bliss-out chill trip.

Meanwhile, your little on-screen spaceship - a stylised letter D - emits a rainbow as it travels up the screen inside a presumably endless tunnel.

And then you die.

Line up

That first game, which lasted approximately five seconds, came to an untimely end because you stupidly did nothing and therefore smacked straight into one of the coloured grappling points dotted about the screen.

And so you take notice of the helpful instructions that you'd hastily dismissed, telling you to 'hold anywhere' for grappling-hook fun.

This time, you hurtle along, press the screen to grapple a point, and spend several seconds spinning round it in a sickening endless circle, before lifting your finger and careening off into the side of the tunnel, exploding and thereby ending your go.

You begin to wonder whether the developer is some kind of sadist.

On the firing line

You gather your thoughts and attempt to figure out some kind of strategy. You notice some of the game's really clever ideas, such as the dotted line that previews your imminent pathway the second you successfully attach the grappling line.

You notice that your ship can 'cheat' by surviving outside of the tunnel of death if it happens to already be spinning around a grappling point.

If you're quick of finger and lucky of luck, you'll see your score gradually edge up – 20, 40, 60, even the dizzy heights of 100, as you partake in what feels like speed skating in fast-forward.

You can even save a photo of your crash and marvel at the crazy pathways that got you that precious extra few points.

But it all feels so brutal, without providing the means to truly master the game. Super Hexagon gave you patterns to learn, and Boson X's tunnels gave you precious split-seconds to react.

Even the ruthless dEXTRIS - similar to One More Line in its tunnel-based approach - gave you a fighting chance thanks to its overt simplicity.

By contrast, One More Line is viciousness without respite. A hardcore gaming experience without nuance that doesn't quite provide you with the tools to respond.

End of the line

Perhaps that's the point. Maybe the developer wants to crush you, while simultaneously filling your ears with disco joy and your eyes with bright colours and all-too-regular explosions. Maybe it's all meant to be a bit random.

Chances are, though, that you'll sooner or later start wishing for some kind of warning system or 'One More Mode' - perhaps an ironically named and slightly slower ‘zen' mode.

Then you could at least enjoy the soundtrack and fluid movement without knowing that in a few seconds you're going to swing in a graceful arc straight into a beautifully designed minimal grappling post you couldn't have seen coming unless you have the reactions of a hyperactive fly.