Aaron Riccio's Reviews
The more Hiss there are on screen at one time, the less terrifying they feel, and the game becomes generic, less of a cooperative shooter and more like one of those idle mobile games where you just stand your ground, hope your equipment is upgraded enough, and fire into a horde of charging monsters.
Folks, Gordon Gekko had it wrong. It’s not greed that’s good, but the yoyo, which “clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit.” And if those words sound as hyperbolic as they do in Wall Street, just wait until you get your hands on Pipistrello and the Cursed Yoyo and see how gloriously right this weird, wonderful yoyo-centric adventure is.
In the end, the only relevant log in the game is the one that recognizes its own worthlessness, a system of recording that “only values information deemed beneficial to the mission,” with no regard for emotions. Why? Because when Bionic Bay stops trying to explain the science at its center and lets its environments speak for themselves, in everything from the monochromic backgrounds to the starkly foregrounded contraptions, you may just be filled with awe.
And while Monaco 2 sometimes stacks the deck too heavily against solo players (it seems better with a full house), striving to straighten out each new wrinkle in the plan makes for addictive, cheek-flushing fun.
Perhaps the highest praise that can be bestowed upon Blue Prince, and a validation of the near-decade that Ros has spent working on it, is the way in which the game successfully inspires players to follow the advice of the protagonist’s great-uncle: “Abandon the path and go where you want it to lead.”
Whether Yasuke’s assassinations are your cup of tea or not (there’s a reason the game calls them “brutal”), it’s nice to see how this game breathes new life into a familiar formula.
Perhaps the base game is just the tutorial and the real game is what awaits players after they return to the main hub and are reminded of the weekly battle arena challenges and the levels that can be accessed inside the Hillbert Hotel created by other players. So for those predisposed to wanting to see everything all at once, maybe that will be transcendent enough.
Negative emotions may not be so easily dispelled for us as they are with Cadence’s magical guitar, but music can help us to motivate ourselves, making this a feel-good game in more ways than one.
Eternal Strands does its best to make each of your return trips through its seven main maps as interesting as possible, slowly throwing in stronger enemies, changing up the epic monster encounters, and varying the extreme weather and time of day.
Indeed, a single level like the Mad Mall feels more inventive—between you having to scramble through a ball pit maze, race on a Segway-like device, and solve a shooting gallery puzzle—than the entirety of other platformers.
ReFantazio has a nearly hour-long, combat-free epilogue that jumps forward in time to demonstrate the consequences of the decisions you’ve made, and it’s not only as compelling as everything prior, but it’s perhaps the most political part of the whole campaign. Here, too, ReFantazio shows you what it values, which is both the big life-or-death boss battles that put your ideals to the test and the ripple effects of their consequences.
That context lends real stakes to the fictional pursuits of Jot and his two childhood friends: Violet, a witch who dabbles in painting, and Thrash, a mountain troll with a penchant for drumming. Their successes are Sam’s, and the player’s. The Plucky Squire emphasizes the importance of our dreams, hoping to motivate players in the same way that the book within the game aims to cheer on Sam. Creativity doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to be inspiring. And in that regard, The Plucky Squire knows how to always pick itself up and keep going.
When it isn’t tipping its hat to Yars’ Revenge, the game offers only simplistic platforming.
Whatever dissonance hovers in the air at the start of I Am Your Beast will have dissipated by the time you reach the final level. “You’re creating a no-win scenario for yourself,” screams Burkin as he throws the full force of the government at you. In response, Harding simply, satisfyingly, and coolly rejects those terms. As the lyrics to that final level’s original track kick in, you’ll come to know what he knows: that there will always be another level, and that you will always be someone else’s beast—unless you find a way, however bloody, to be your own man.
While the plot is occasionally predictable and the voice acting is a bit of a letdown, none of this takes away from the overall charm and mystery of Eden Genesis. Even when the final area, Node Zero, strips away all of the glamor of Eden’s districts, reducing things to a wireframe orange, it’s never anything less than exhilarating to find ways around obstacles, running along the safe underbelly of a fiery platform in order to double-jump up and slash through an enemy on the other side of it before finding another safe ceiling. If this is mental degeneration, then Disturbed had it right back in 2000: “Get up, come on get down with the sickness.”
Wukong excels at allowing players to feel increasingly like the Monkey King himself. This is an action RPG whose focus is less on punishing, labyrinthine environments and more on delivering precise, melee-based combat encounters that put the Destined One’s agility to the test.
Nobody Wants to Die struggles to reach a satisfying conclusion, which is, perhaps fittingly, indicated by its very title. There’s a serial killer, conspiracy theory, James’s traumatic past, his current partner’s illicit body-rental surrogacy, and a class riot. The game’s body-swapping shenanigans mashes several of those plots into a confusing showdown that may leave you unsure as to who you’re even confronting. The ending that my choices led to—the point at which you’d most want to do a reconstruction—was abrupt and disappointing, leaving the fate of many characters in question. How unfortunate, then, that out of all the places in which the game allows you to rewind time and relive past events, your save file isn’t one of them.
Where it most matters, though, Linkito delivers engaging puzzles. The final area, Albatross Tech’s Control Center, creatively incorporates elements from each of the previous divisions, with elaborate, multi-panel contraptions that will have you programming robots to carry data that can be used to unlock the path to a bomb. A promising level editor all but ensures there will be even more challenging post-launch devices to solve, for while the story is about a budding revolution, it’s by no means revolutionary. The puzzles, though? They’re electric.
But it’s a credit to the Simogo team’s incredibly sharp writing that however obtuse the game’s puzzles may seem at times, they never feel unsolvable. As noted in one of the many bits of sumptuous flavor text scattered about the Hotel Letztes Jahr: “Getting stuck is one of the key parts of the process.” And in holding true to the manifestos of the artists at the heart of the story, Lorelei and the Laser Eyes manifests puzzles as art, requiring the proper interpretations of mixed-media sculptures, paintings, and more. It’s all one unexpected thrill after another as you go deeper and deeper into a maze of memories, metaphors, and magic.
Above all, Cryptmaster suffers from you having too many words to learn and there being far too few chapters in which to do so. Even if players are Wheel of Fortune savants, unlocking every word for each character requires hours of retyping the same combat commands. Even an actual zombie would beg off after piecing together words like PARADIDDLE and AMBERGRIS for such meager rewards as another scrap of backstory. This is especially so in the last level, a straightforward corridor that strips away the illusion of exploration provided by the more elaborate mazes and NPC quests that preceded them. By then, you’ll have long come to the realization that this game designed around words should have chosen them more carefully.