It certainly doesn't get to join the elite group, but if you're after some ARPG entertainment, it more than fits the role. I'm far from finished, after spending a hefty amount of time with it, so there's a lot on offer here, not least with the incentive to replay older sections to perfection. Turn the voices down, put a podcast on, and sink in.
This could have been a wonderful RPG, set in the show's array of utterly fantastic locations, quests and side-quests sending you on various journeys, with pretty much the same combat mechanic. It could have been something that celebrated Adventure Time, made use of the amazing resources it had to hand. But instead this is an insipid, limp waste of it all, and a proper shame.
It's everything you could want an expansion to be.
It's a triumph of a game despite some flaws, and certainly one of my peak gaming moments of 2015. Bright, cheerful, ridiculous, and most of all, absolutely determined to ensure you have fun.
The whole thing can be polished off in a long day (that's what I did), and in certain sections I was enjoying the old-school run-n-gunning. But just as often I was being frustrated by glitches, poor enemy AI (which is pretty unforgiveable after they mock it for being such in the early levels, and then never improves), or aching repetition.
There's a chance the bugs could be patched out, although this really is in a sort of Arkham Knight place where pulling it and finishing it is the better option. But even if it ran without constantly breaking, it would still be a really dreadful adventure game. A gorgeous one – some of the most lovely animation I've ever seen in a game – but just so poor.
So there Sublevel Zero lies, this peculiar mix of instantly entertaining and disappointingly hollow. Tidying up the crafting, and making it meaningful, would add a lot. And gosh, it desperately needs a rethink about those unexplained, unpredictable dead-ends. But heck, I want to keep on playing anyway. I feel like so much more could be added to it, and I rather hope to see that happen. As it is, I'm suspicious it won't hold people's attention long enough for the £11 entry fee.
[I]t's undeniably repetitive. I like the game a lot, and in a large part because of its simplicity. But it's certainly walking a fine line, possibly limiting how many times someone might want to take another trip down its randomly generated tower knowing they've encountered many of its surprises. Still, that doesn't seem to stop me from wanting one more go. Which is probably the most important thing.
So did I enjoy it? Kind of. I think I appreciated it more than I enjoyed it, and then that appreciation was tinged with a wish that it could have been more. More clever, more surprising, more deep. But more importantly, it made me think, made me worry about people I care about, made me uncomfortable. And for that, I think, it deserves praise.
It's rare for a puzzle game to be truly original, but Mushroom 11 can claim that accolade. It applies its originality in smartly traditional ways, employing 2D physics puzzles in a new style. It's glitchless, which is a rare treat, especially for a game that lets you break your blob into many parts and jam them in between rotating cogs and swinging platforms. It's one of the best puzzle games in a very long time.
Randomly generating your locations for missions is a good idea in many games, but it carries the huge risk of creating dull spaces. In Dragon Fin Soup they're almost uniquely so, with laborious chopping of foliage leading to dead end after dead end, rather then hidden treasure or bonus finds. It's just not the sort of game that lends itself to the notion, and the result kills off just about any desire to continue playing I was left with.
If you're the sort who shies away from bullet hell twin-stick shooters, or finds the permadeath of roguelikes to be too punishing, I think Nuclear Throne might be the game to try. It might well ease you into those troubling waters. I tend toward those instincts too, but this is so immediately accessible, so ridiculously replayable, and so satisfying to get better at, that it transcends. And if those sorts of games are your thing and you've not already delved in during development, then flipping crikey, get this immediately. And blimey, I'm tired.
Most importantly, Carrion’s smart. It’s an extremely finely crafted game, so much so that you’re essentially playing a meat-smeared Metroidvania without a map, and you won’t even miss it. That’s quite something.
This was a risky project, given the automatic assumptions someone might make about a game where dating and invading are conflated. Cast aside all those concerns, because this is a game where consent is primary, yet nonsense is overwhelmingly more important. It’s so funny that this is so lovely, and it’s lovely that this is so funny.
There’s a co-op mode, even, so you can be trapped in these escape rooms with a chum, which sounds absolutely fantastic. But on my own, Escape Simulator offers a far more tangible sense of the feeling of playing a real-world escape room, one spaceship aside, keeping things within the realms of possibility. Ooh I can’t wait for that DLC.
This is a splendid creation, superbly written, with spellbinding art, and a unique approach to telling a story. It’s also a fascinating exploration of grief, loss, and more than anything else, how we react to change. That and secret underground organizations and their evil plans to control towns through fertilizer production.
I really hope Sheinman does something very different for his next game, because I really think this format is done now. But Riley & Rochelle is a great, if sometimes scrappy, way to prove what a solid idea it’s always been.
I feel like Scarlet Hollow is a demonstration of how the format for the visual novel is just a foundation on which so much greater can be built. While the screenshots may look like a standard VN, the game itself is vastly more, not just with its RPG-like systems and ridiculously complex balancing of choices, but the far greater sense of scale, time, and significance. I’ve been blown away by it all over again.
I disliked Season’s belief in its own profundity. Its mysticism felt like cod-Buddhist leftovers, while its nonchalant efficacy of prayer undermined its attempts at agnostic universalism, all crushed under the weight of the sheer banality of all your actions being delivered as if creating a vital tome of historical significance.
In fact, the whole game is a tremendously satisfying experience. From the wonderful alien design, to the slow-burning storyline and its blank-faced staring astronaut, to the satisfying array of weapons, and perhaps most importantly, to the way the statues crumble when you hit them, this is something utterly solid, and eternally compelling. And unless my rig proves a fluke, finally a console-to-PC port to celebrate on day one.