Katamari Damacy and We Love Katamari made a huge impact on their native consoles, which will come as no surprise to anyone who’s seen the uniquely stylised and inspirational roll-‘em-up concept.

These PS2 titles have already become something of a collectable asset – in part due to the limited availability on release and huge number of pre-orders the game saw, but mainly because of the highly distinctive nature of play. There’s never really been any equal or alternative to the Katamari series, so the popularity has soared over the last couple of years to make Damacy, at least, one of the most loved PS2 games ever released (the same can’t be said for the tragic PSP version, Me & My Katamari, but we won’t labour that particular donkey right now).

It’s worth pausing for a second at this point and insisting that any gamer who doesn’t know what the Katamari series is all about should get their pre-order in – this latest incarnation on the Xbox 360 follows suit very sweetly, and despite lacking a smidgen of its parent’s charm it still qualifies as a must have addition to any lacking game collection. If you already own the PS2 version(s) and are curious as to how this next-gen re-engineering holds up to such a bright and glorious light, read on.

The gameplay of Beautiful Katamari is an unequivocal reproduction and successful update of the original game that created such a stylish stir – and if this new model has any faults, they’re mainly to be found in its presentation. Unfortunately, as Katamari fans will already know, the staging of this franchise is a hugely significant part of its appeal and any cracks in this wonderful veneer represent something of a heartbreak. When we discover the creative mind behind the concept, Keita Takahashi, is no longer on board, it becomes clear why a certain indefinable magic is now missing from the dazzling surface coating. Without the genius of his lunacy to bolster the game’s surreal foundations, the resulting attempts to recreate his magical characters and their universe come across as self-conscious and schizophrenic.

And yet, even un-bolstered, those foundations are solid enough to support a damn entertaining and amusing game, and a worthy addition to the dreamlike franchise.

The confused restyling is present from the start; mainly in the behaviour and speech patterns of the wonderful King of Cosmos character. His actions still retain their brilliantly entertaining strain of omnipotent mental illness, though his conversation has lost much of its regal condescension that previously made him such an aggravating joy to behold – replaced by a kid’s prime-time TV, “glib -to-the-max”, aging hipster Radio One DJ superficiality. While it’s shame to see him so verbally impotent, the setup to the ensuing ball-gathering action harkens back to the first game’s inherent originality very nicely.

While on holiday, the King of Cosmos fancies himself for tennis, but accidentally punctures a hole in the universe with his divine serve. Much of the cosmos’ content (stars, planets, cold drinks, etc.) are sucked into the hole, and it falls to the Prince (you) to visit one of the only places left in the universe and gather up household debris which can be refashioned into stellar objects. Wonderful in its simplicity and surrealism, the quick intro sets the mood perfectly for the bizarre gameplay that ensues.

As before, you take control of a small, adhesive ball and begin rolling it around to gather up minor objects littering the play area. As the ball begins to increase in size, it picks up larger and larger objects. Items which, initially, prove to be obstacles are soon within the Katamari’s sphere of absorption. What’s particularly wonderful about the ball rolling action is not only the sheer volume of collectable wreckage littering the extensive play areas (which range from pharmaceutical cabinets, casinos and mah jong boards to sweet shops, burger joints and playgrounds – with everything in between) but the dynamic movement of the debris-ball itself. The collection of shrapnel stumbles and bounces in accordance with the random, misshapen fragments it collects, and managing it can become a decidedly dexterous task.

The settings in which the Prince finds himself are equally stylised; packed with polygon based life and a visually cacophonic array of domestic and commercial flotsam and jetsam. The King determines the size of the Katamari required for each level, as well as the kind of materials best suited to the project he has in mind. Rebuilding Jupiter, for instance, requires lots of plants and flowers, while sweets and candy make a good orbital satellite. Aiming specifically at these items (which aren’t easy to determine among the sheer weight of alternatives littering the floors, tables and shelves) improves the overall score once the level’s completed.

Also taking a pointer from the first sequel, We Love Katamari, players occasionally have to gather for a different purpose. A ball might be required that reaches 10,000 degrees centigrade in heat, for example, and demands players harvest camp fires, pepper sauce, BBQs and all manner of other sizzling items while avoiding ice cream, cold drinks and fire extinguishers. It all keeps the gameplay diverse enough (despite it already being wildly disparate by nature) for the good times to (literally) roll – which is as well, since Beautiful Katamari isn’t a particularly long game.

The overall score shoots up a point thanks to the wonderful music and sounds, however. A surreal assortment of Japanese jazz, pop and disco serenade the roll-player throughout, and although the repetition becomes noticeable during longer levels, the quality of the music is utterly inspirational and never fails to provide a perfect vibe for the fantastical environments.

Online leader boards will be a welcome addition for the point scorers among us, while a beautifully inspiring galaxy of the world’s Katamari can also be viewed by entering the cosmos. Players can upload their impressive balls (y’all keep it Holy, now. – Ed.) for the X360 community to marvel at – a sublimely poignant concept that virtually realises the King of Cosmos’ founding brief to recreate the universe.

Alongside the dumbing down of the character’s dialogue and dramatic themes, there are a couple more niggles that rob Beautiful Katamari of some glamour. The law of diminishing returns notwithstanding, an unrefined camera system and the constant irritation of the King of Cosmos’ face appearing mid-screen during gameplay make for some aggravating obscuring of the action. It’s essentially these kinds of flaws in the spotless finish of previous Katamari games that dampen the overall splendour of the 360 outing, but in truth it’s to a very small degree. The real challenge Beautiful Katamari faces is living up to the monolithic reputation of its heritage - and that’s a hell of a lot to ask.

So significant, yet distinctly superficial imperfections aside, it feels great to finally see the seventh gen consoles celebrated in supreme surrealist style, and serves as a venerable reminder of how much weird fun it is rebuilding the universe one ball of junk at a time.