Galak-Z falls just shy of genius. That it quickly reveals itself to be a demanding game is no surprise considering its lead designer's heritage (Jake Kazdal worked at Sega on exquisite yet challenging titles such as Rez) and the source material from which it draws inspiration.
A twitch epic in which the journey from beginner to master is told not via new abilities, but in your hands and muscle memory.
This is a game written for people who have worked in a particular kind of game development. It's hard to applaud the jokes when it's unclear where the lines between reality and exaggeration lie - and this is a story whose shoots grow from lived experience. Far easier to applaud the game's core gameplay invention, which enlivens The Magic Circle at its heart, and a piece of design that, unlike Ishmael Gilder, will surely find a life beyond its game.
But it's also thrilling. While the game lacks certain finesse (it's infuriating when you mistime a trigger, for example, and must restart the stage and repeat the entire trap-laying process from scratch; a soft save of your layout would have been welcome) and eventually becomes repetitive, its humour, idiosyncrasy and constantly shifting tool-set makes cruelty into a virtue - in the video game's consequence-less reality, at least.
Infinifactory's rich and thick appeal is in the nuts and screws of the manual labour. You may not enjoy many worker's rights here, in the employ of this sour-faced alien management team, but the job satisfaction? It's unrivalled.
The experience is admittedly different to that of a well-constructed detective novel, or carefully charted HBO thriller, but the effects are similar. You are captivated, manipulated and spun around by the plot. Perhaps, in an era where filmmakers so keenly play with chronology, and regularly leave conclusions unwrapped, we are prepared for this kind of patchwork narrative, which leaves you, mostly, to draw your own conclusion of what really happened by the end. Or perhaps it would always have worked this well. Regardless, Her Story is a singular, unfamiliar work, essential viewing for both filmmakers and game designers.
There are moments of humour (you can, if you so choose, arrange Ortega's record collection by genre and title) and in time both you and your character grow attached to this unseen man whom you serve. The game elegantly communicates a very particular kind of relationship in the period world, in all of its power-dynamics and complexity. Some will inevitably find the lack of formal puzzles, collectibles or many of the other attributes of most contemporary video games off-putting. But Sunset, despite its minimalism, is a rare treat. It tells a story about revolution via the reflection of domesticity, an unusual and thrilling use of the video game medium, and one that expands both its scope and its definition.
Neon Struct's greatest achievement though is in its brooding storyline, told through tense phone conversations, brief chats on the streets and, most vividly, through the sense of fear you feel when you're kicked out of a supporting institution of near-omniscient power, to a place of want and hiding. The narrative is told with a light touch (characters have names such as Vinod Chhibber and Director Furtwengler) but it feels weighty and relevant, without tipping into blunt moralising. The best kind of science fiction thriller then: one dressed in the style of the future, but engaged with the pressing issues of the present.
This vast fantasy adventure combines sophisticated storytelling with an expansive and richly conceived world
This is a game built with love and thorough attention to detail. It is a startling debut for a young team who demonstrate an enviable clarity of design. But it falls short of greatness, perhaps because its main ingredients of hulking foes and one-hit kills cannot harmonise over the course of an entire adventure.
The arcade-like structure and mounting pile of perks and weapons gives Tower of Guns an irresistible, if brief, appeal. There's tremendous fun to be had questing up the tower, amassing buffs and improvements to both your character and their weaponry, and racing against the clock. But soon enough, the repetitious enemy and environment designs begin to tire, and the initial bullishness of the evolving guns feels a little conservative; nothing goes quite far enough. Tower of Guns fails to reach the heights it might have reached, then, but provides an enjoyable run all the same.
Its elegance, precision, humour, and challenge make Bloodborne irresistible. Ultimately, the horror is secondary; wonder is the true transfusion on offer here.
Dead or Alive: Last Round doesn't have the contortionist special moves required to master its Street Fighter rival, making this the more immediately accessible game by some margin. But neither does it have the mascots of Capcom's stable (it's telling, perhaps, that the most recognisable characters here are borrowed from Ninja Gaiden and Virtua Fighter). But at its deeper levels, it's an equally engaging and challenging proposition as its rivals, a quick tempo test of dexterity and reaction that, at its best, transcends the mildly grotty aspects for which it is best known.
Ultra's label insinuates that this is the ultimate realisation of Housemarque's original vision. In truth, it's little more than a re-skin, and the seasoning of novelties adds little of enduring substance. Instead, the original remains a classic. Its somewhat sterile charms are undiminished by time, and so space cadets will find much to love here, in the bustle of a perennial galactic rush hour. Veterans, however, need not apply. Whether that's testament to Housemarque's delivery of an original that could not be improved by tampering, or its new custodian's lack of vision, is another question.
'The sacred river ran, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea,' reads Coleridge's poem, Kubla Khan, from which the game takes its name and setting. It already knows that you will take up the challenge and bravely attempt to measure these caverns. The better question, and the one that Sunless Sea asks in countless ways is: how?
Unmechanical Extended meets its ambition: the designers fully explore the potential of the template and do so with elegance. But perhaps, in the new context of the newer consoles, that ambition wasn't quite enough. This is a slight, simple, often delightful game that displays moment-to-moment ingenuity but which now obviously lacks a broader conceit to bring its ideas together.
Nevertheless, Citizens of Earth succeeds in rediscovering something of the ingenuity of 1990s JRPGs in its playful twists on genre cliches. And as a kooky and inventive contemporary re-imagining of the Super Nintendo-era role-player, this, like its protagonist's campaign, is but a near miss.
Nevertheless, Spencer Mansion ultimately fails as a locale because of its implausibility. It is a place that has been designed in service to the designer's puzzles, rather than vice-versa and, for this reason, feels fake and contrived, characteristics that undermine the horror rather than heighten it. As a product of a unique moment in the medium's technological evolution, Resident Evil HD is a fascinating place to revisit. But for many contemporary visitors it will be an unpleasant stay, not because the game's inhabitants are unusually hostile, or because its idiosyncrasies are unfashionable, but because its formative designs have simply been bettered.
Elegy for a Dead World makes good on its title: it offers us dead worlds, filled with the debris of imagined and vanished civilizations. Through the game's scenes you walk alone, under the dread emptiness of outer space, all that harrowing solitude. And yet, as you write and send that writing out into the ether in search of a reader, you may well find contact and connection. If others read your work, your observations, your story, your sense and if they find truth or solace in your words, here is a framework designed to let you know, in turn, that you are not alone. In this sense, it is truly a game about humans' desire to write.
It's principally aimed at the series' fans, but the mesh of interlocking systems ensures that its appeal runs deeper than fan service.