Like its own mysterious underground complex, Colossal Cave is obscure and unfriendly, trickily hiding some scarce but valuable treasure. If it wasn't for the fascinating source material, it would be jaw-droppingly bad. However, the source material is fascinating, and this remake is one way to engage with it. If, for that reason, you are willing to overlook both the outdated design elements you would expect and the bad design decisions and sloppy implementation you wouldn't, there could be something here to enjoy. We certainly wouldn't judge anyone who discovered an egg-sized emerald of fun in Colossal Cave, but neither can we seriously recommend it.
The Pathless does one thing extremely well, which is to create a sense of racing – almost dancing – through its huge open world. The player's journey is mainly one of getting to know that sensation and learning to harness it to traverse epic environments. However, the protagonist's journey has little to do with that feeling, which is perhaps why the story doesn't land. The game sounds exceptional and looks great in this impressive port. However, the puzzles rarely stimulate the imagination and are fussy to play, while boss encounters are overlong and repetitive. Although it has its significant successes, The Pathless unfortunately doesn't manage to become more than the sum of its parts.
At just a handful of hours, Trek to Yomi sadly still manages to outstay its welcome. It asks its visuals to carry the gameplay, but their novelty wears off before the final act. This is particularly true on Switch, where dropped resolution and simplified scenery steal some of the magic and ugly character close-ups blemish the overall aesthetic. As imaginatively as Yomi is realised, the game still feels like a trek.
At its best, The Excavation of Hob's Barrow feels like the halcyon point-and-click days of LucasArts. Some of its puzzle chains are compelling, immersive, and pitched just right difficulty-wise. It gets a bit messy in the third act, but not enough to undo the excellent scene-setting and plot-thickening that precedes it. Hob's Barrow could have been hobbled by its muted setting; instead it brings a barrowload of supernatural chills.
Papetura is a million miles away from being a blockbuster movie, yet it shares the same sense of intense energy and craft, which it distils into each second of its game time. Every crease and scrunch of its scenery and characters is shining with Ostafin’s passion. Its rudimentary and vague story, very brief running time, and control niggles do hold it back slightly, but nothing can completely overshadow its captivating presentation.
It's hard to talk about the specifics of Inscryption without diluting some of its magic. However, its ingenuity is mind-boggling, its mood is devilishly haunting and its presentation is first-rate. As a deck builder, it's stretched about as far as it can go, and by jumping around between concepts it sometimes asks for a lot of from the player. The pay-off, however, is one of the most impressive feats of video game storytelling there is. If you're new to Daniel Mullins Games then you're in for even more of a treat, but existing fans, too, shouldn't think they have the measure of what awaits on Inscryption's dusty old floppy disk.
Our experience of Super Kiwi 64 comes down to this: we were having a good time, but couldn't always tell if it was despite the game or because of it. Either we've found a gold coin in a muddy field or we've found the face of Elvis in our porridge. If you're giving this a go, be sure to bring your imagination along with your £2.69.
However, there’s no resisting the charm of Railbound’s chirpy cel-shaded models and, although they belie some fiendish challenges, the difficulty curve is as smooth as it is steep. Perfect for handheld play, Afterburn has laid down a great addition to Switch's library of puzzlers.
When it all clicks, A Little to the Left provides an experience that is a weird mingling of the semi-passive and viscerally intrusive. It is only the occasions when tiny touch targets cry out for a mouse pointer that the magic falls away. Once that happens, the plainer, less surprising puzzles aren’t able to carry the show on their own. As a piece, it can’t always sustain its best rhythm, but when it does, it's stimulating, quiet, and memorable.
Presenting itself modestly as "a simple and short experience", Lunistice has masses to offer. A first run is maybe a handful of hours, but the thirst to retry is so strong it's almost hard to move on to each new stage. Add the challenge of finding all the cranes and hidden items, avoiding resets, and setting faster times, plus unlockable characters with different moves, and it's a full and generous package. Launching at $4.99 or your regional equivalent, weighing in at a lean 600MB, and having a demo on the eShop, Lunistice is simply a must-try game.
Save Room starts from the premise that Resident Evil 4's inventory management system might work as a full game. It left us thinking that Save Room might work as an inventory management system. It may have gone down well on Steam, where it is a couple of your local currency units cheaper, but there's just so little here that it's hard to recommend. You simply slot the stuff into the thing – there's only so many ways you can say it.
If you were even half-aware of games news at the end of 2021, you will already be a bit interested in this game. It's brimming with fun, uniquely committed to co-op gaming, plays solidly and distinctively, and usually discards one cool idea in favour of another before there's time to get bored. Now-standard graphical compromises have been made for Switch, and the typical perk of playing handheld is questionable for an always-split-screen co-op-only game. Nonetheless, it keeps the frames moving well enough not to undermine its Game-of-the-Year sparkle. It Takes Two and the good old Switch may not be a perfect marriage, but it's probably worth sticking it out, now that we're five years in.
Voodoo Detective is an attractive, old-school point-and-click adventure with a lighthearted, dime-store pulp story and a decent handful of laughs. Its vividly descriptive art style and writing are accessible and low-stress, if short on intrigue and surprise. Meanwhile, the music is fun and the voices are memorable. Although the puzzles can be ropey, the story moves along steadily enough, and at five hours or so, it doesn't ask too much. This is a steady debut from Short Sleeve Studio and, while it's not turning every head at the party, it's a good laugh if you try to get to know it.
Return to Monkey Island reaches into your heart, rips out your desire to know THE SECRET, and clenches it in front of your face. As hard as it would be to concede that The Secret of Monkey Island™ might always have been a McGuffin, it's agonising to contemplate that your 30-year longing for the Monkey Island 3 might be just the same. Delighting as you tremor, Return presents to your transfixed gaze a phenomenal point-and-click adventure, bubbling with passion and fun. All the way through, you will hope, achingly, that the big reveal is coming – and then…
Over its five-or-so hours, Lost in Play barely puts a foot wrong, delivering cerebral gaming and effervescent entertainment. In doing so, it makes many of the genre’s design challenges look easy. Here’s hoping it inspires and influences future graphic adventures – or at least gets a sequel.
Every single thing about I Was a Teenage Exocolonist is nice, from its appearance to its sounds to its writing – nice, even, to a fault. As a plot device, it makes sense that the utopian vision of the Exocolonists is all very lovely, with its impeccable inclusivity and anti-capitalist teachings, but at some point, if things are going to go life-or-death pear-shaped, the niceness really ought to give. Overall, the game lacks bite, but with so much love and niceness oozing from every facet of it, it is, by the same token, impossible to dislike.
Apart from mashing together two classic Japanese IPs, Shin chan: The Endless Seven-Day Journey mashes together some quite contradictory concepts and comes up with something special. You have the directionless, simple adventures of a child's curiosity on a rural holiday, but they're interrupted quite suddenly by a tightly directed (and completely absurd) plot. Wacky sitcom energy quickly becomes the drive and purpose in a game that could have been merely a wholesome meander-em-up. So there is the soothing magic of endless days running round fields and just seeing what catches the imagination, but also a heavy steer to play a story from end to end, packaging the never-ending summer into a punchy and dynamic 15-20 hours. Knowing now what Kureshin and Bokunatsu are, if you think you like the idea of mixing the two, this game is very easy to recommend.
Strange Horticulture's biggest struggle is shoehorning itself into the Switch's little screen and thumbstick controls. It does that well enough to preserve its wonder, but if you have a PC to play it on, that might be preferable. It comes from a very simple place: a one-screen playfield with basic, heavily scripted interactions. But that is the perfect backdrop to throw the player's new discoveries into sharp relief and bring an eerie world and gripping mystery to life. This irresistible immersion stems eventually from a quiet and unassuming start, so stick with it – it'll grow on you.
Hindsight does what it does with technical and artistic aplomb. The story is eloquent, mature and moving, and the core mechanic of diving into objects creates perfect madeleine moments that boost the experience beyond many other story games. It only asks for a few hours of your time and repays the investment generously.
One challenge for the graphic adventure has always been how to meld puzzles, which are essentially abstract snippets of logic, with telling a story, which essentially needs to flow, without stopping to do sudokus 'round every corner. Growbot makes its most common puzzle part of the world, with its flower-based music mechanic, and the art makes everything look like there’s a story behind it. Unfortunately, that appearance of story is only skin-deep, and the puzzles hang oddly on the bare frame of a plot. Outside the musical sequencing, there are some infuriating blockers – especially when doing contrived things with contrived items for contrived reasons. That Goldilocks sweet spot of difficulty that makes the player feel in control proves too elusive, but there's melodious, mechanical enjoyment to be had here if you're not fussed about story.