Edmond Tran's Reviews
Dredge is a masterclass in atmosphere, worldbuilding, tactile mechanics, and game flow. Like all sinister-feeling things, by the time you get to the end of the line you might wish you had never kept going. But in Dredge, it’s impossible not to.
Taken as a leisurely journey where the goal isn’t the be-all and end-all, Tchia can be a very pleasant getaway into a playground of delightful sights, sounds, and toys to play with. As a series of quests, it can feel ordinary. But as an escape to another place, it can be wondrous.
For all the game’s foibles, that largely stem from a slightly dated version of the series recipe, as well as some ideas that perhaps never really quite worked, Like A Dragon: Ishin! Is still an enjoyable Yakuza game brimming with stories and activities, and it still has a firm grip on the sense of drama and comedy that fuel its enduring soul. That soul is unique, charming, and special, and transcends setting, time, and rough edges alike.
Fire Emblem Engage is focused on making the series’ enduring turn-based tactics more compelling, more exciting, more stunning – and the game does an excellent job at that. Smart new mechanics add much to the feel of battle, and once your army begins rolling through enemy forces across the continent, it’s hard to stop.
A Little to the Left is just delightful. And that’s all that really needs to be said about it.
Nothing about God of War Ragnarok feels anything less than meaningful. Refined to the highest degree, every hour you spend with Kratos, Atreus, and the memorable characters of Ragnarok feels fulfilling – whether it be journeying across the Nordic realms with your companions, taking in the beautiful sights and enjoying idle chit chat, overcoming the odds in invigorating and varied melee combat encounters, or sharing in the deeply emotional connection between incredibly strong and nuanced characters.
A Plague Tale: Requiem has a strong identity and a good degree of allowance for player creativity and expression. Moving through its stunning world and spending time with its characters is gratifying – even if many of its setpieces are terrifying or grim, even if its inhabitants are a bit too chatty, and even if there are far, far too many rats. The hope you find on the other side is usually worth the struggle.
I certainly don’t enjoy Scorn in the way that I do most video games. The thought of revisiting its monstrous world makes me feel ill. But I respect Scorn for its technical artistry, design and environmental world-building that successfully encourages player agency, and how strong and cohesive it feels in its overall creative vision, despite its mentally and physically taxing nature.
The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow is a very strong and cohesive experience that deftly executes an absorbing folk horror atmosphere in virtually every moving part. No element of the traditional adventure game format is wasted, with every facet contributing to make it a focused and memorable journey, with a very strong identity. It’s the kind of game that immediately makes you want to play more adventure games.
Return to Monkey Island isn’t a grand reinvention of point-and-click adventure games in mechanics or narrative ambition. It is, quite literally, a return. It sticks to its own identity, and aims to be the best version of itself – a comforting, charming game with great characters and amusingly esoteric puzzles. That a new Monkey Island game exists with Gilbert and Grossman at the helm makes Return to Monkey Island an attraction well worth the curiosity. And that this traditional format still satisfies while remaining largely unchanged, several decades later, speaks volumes about how timeless their ideas and this world have always been.
The Last of Us Part 1 doesn’t create any lasting memories about the experience that weren’t already there from the beginning. For that reason, my thoughts about the game’s existence as a product remain dubious. But as a creative work in and of itself, The Last of Us is still exceptional, and I’m happy to have had reason to experience it again, in a new context and an updated format.
Immortality is a game that will haunt you. Its sinister atmosphere is exceptionally powerful. Its layered narrative about art and artists will leave you with more thoughts, ideas, and questions than answers. It will have you clambering for someone to seek solace with afterwards. It may very well see you diving back in, hunting for closure with any clues you may have missed – just a few more hints. Something, anything. Immortality is a remarkable piece of work, and an outstanding example of the potency interactive storytelling can have.
If you find yourself in the right frame of mind, the unhinged nature of Saints Row can be cathartic, particularly if you find yourself in a good series of missions where the writing and humour aren’t too manic, and the action isn't too humdrum. In the end, Saints Row succeeds in recalling and refreshing the affable personality of the dormant series, but this reboot is simply a return, not an evolution.
Essentially, Midnight Fight Express’s approach to enemy behaviour echoes the approach of challenging retro arcade brawlers, but its more grounded fighting mechanics don’t feel suitable for the pace. And it’s this off-kilter balance between your character’s own ability, the effectiveness of environmental weapons, and the aggressiveness of the enemies that is ultimately to the detriment of its longer-term gratification.
My time with Rollerdrome was likely filled with more failed runs than successful ones, with long periods of exasperation after failing increasingly difficult stages, multiple times. But when everything clicks, and you’re in the zone – pulling off those perfectly timed shots and dodges, racking up enormous combos, performing ridiculous tricks, narrowly avoiding rockets, and nailing enemies straight between the eyes from 50 yards away to find victory – it’s so incredibly invigorating. Rollerdrome deals in style and hard-fought satisfaction, and getting Kara to the top is well worth the effort.
As Dusk Falls tackles intimate themes with intimate storytelling. It spends meaningful time with believable characters and complex personal issues. It attempts to explore answers to those relatable and sometimes unanswerable questions about ourselves. And most importantly, it doesn’t get distracted or lost along the way.
Neon White has style. Neon White has intensity. Neon White makes me feel alive.
Where Wii Sports began to lose its grip on you the moment no-one was available to share the joy with, the online and enthusiast-focussed nature of Nintendo Switch Sports is a very good incentive to keep coming back. Even after earning all of the cosmetic offerings on offer for the week, Nintendo Switch Sports continues to be an enticing outlet any time I feel like experiencing the highs of close, edge-of-your-seat competition against another human being.
Despite being an undeniably beautiful piece of work, its identity as a weapon combat game lacks edge. I’m glad I stuck with it until the end – some of the late-game setpieces are certainly a sight to behold – but I left Trek to Yomi in a hungry search for something else that would give me the inherent satisfaction that comes from feeling the impact and hearing the sound of crossing blades.
Chinatown Detective Agency does some interesting and noteworthy things with its take on the point-and-click adventure game, between its reliance on external tools and your own deductive research ability, some solid story and character work, and a strong commitment to encapsulating a country and culture that is unique to video games by default.