I’m 32 puzzles in, and that’s taken me a good long while. That there are 68 more of these to go, plus another 60 that have been released since the game’s initial release, makes me a very happy little man.
Ultimately, Rainswept has a good story to tell. A sad story, one of grief, loss, murder and small-town cruelty.
It reeks of development hell, as demoralising to play as I imagine it was to make. Yes, clearing a map of its icons can be readily distracting, and it fulfils this role at least.
For less than a couple of quid, this is well worth it. Randomly generated puzzles, so you won’t run out, plenty of options, and that bonkers triangle mode for a real head-scratcher.
A slow, gentle, personal RPG, with neat little stories, characters I remember, and a real sense of having spent time in a special place.
Gosh I was all ready to love going to Art Sqool. But either I or it have failed. Nowhere near as odd or quirky as its trailers suggested it could be, and offering no surprises, its fun is over in the first few minutes. Bums.
I love the presentation, I love the conceit, but ultimately this is just a cleverly disguised badly designed point-and-click adventure.
What a really pleasant time this is. It’s family-friendly, without being a kids’ game.
I’d love to have played a game that tried to explore that rocky landscape, with some nuance, some introspection, and most of all, with some humility. This is not that game.
I love the ideas behind The Pepper Prince. A little queer love story, written in verse, presented in faux-ASCII. Sounds gorgeous. But on the evidence of the first episode, the verse is poor, the story meagre, and the puzzles absent. Which makes it hard to recommend. And yet, had I not winced and winced at the writing, I’d have enjoyed the aimless process of clicking through it all.
I’m really impressed by Sagebrush. It could have been tacky, it definitely could have been gross, but it’s neither. It’s sensitive, well constructed, and harrowing just where I think it should be.
Honestly, this is purist FPS as good as it gets, just a constantly stunning game. Don’t miss this.
This remains the magical, bizarre, joyful and utterly peculiar game that earned its place in gaming history. It also remains very short (about four hours at a slow pace?), but also extremely replayable, with so many targets to meet. And it’s very funny, in a super-dark way.
Although that said, even if the bugs and AI were fixed, it would still leave behind a version of Just Cause that barely changes anything you actually do since the third edition, yet has made every aspect of doing it so astronomically more annoying. What went wrong? How did such an established and entertaining series end up in such a quagmire? Gosh I’d love to know.
Clicking buttons is obviously an innate pleasure for all humans, and The Room Three understands this on such a wonderful level, as your interactions reap such visually and aurally gratifying rewards.
It’s fair to say On A Roll does a good job of capturing the cartoon. It’s bland, repetitive, churned-out rubbish seemingly based on the mantra, “Oh who cares, it’s for three year olds.” I’ll tell you who cares: THE PARENTS.
Honestly, I find writing about these games increasingly exhausting, and playing them just as fun as ever.
It's just simply a wonderful creation that you absolutely should buy and play. It's brief – the nine levels will perhaps take you a couple of hours – but a splendid couple of hours they are. Daft, fun, exuberant and very pretty, it captures a sense of joy like little else.
It's often a lot of fun to grapple and leap about in, but it's always too quickly spoiled by something else.
Wreckfest is a splendid antidote to the po-faced severity of the current crop of Need For Speeds, Crews, and so on.