While there was fun to be had with the absolute bonkers nature of Slam Land, the fun ran out very quickly. It soon became evident that the mechanics were half-baked, and the disorientation that the game depends on for fun eventually turns into annoyance. At $7.99, the game is at least at a decent price—but with so many four-player action party games out there, the only reason to choose this over the rest would be to check out its weirdness, and even that would only last an hour at most. There are more coherent, if but less flamboyant, games of its ilk out there, ultimately making Slam Land a difficult sell.
On paper, the concepts of Morphies Law sound original and creative, but once you dive into the game, you'll find a more shallow experience than you were expecting. And that's disappointing—while it may sound like I'm harping on the game for copying others, I love all of the games that inspired it and was hoping that this would be another unexpected indie darling for my beloved Nintendo Switch. But ultimately, Morphies Law ended up being less like Splatoon, and more like the game's namesake, Murphy's Law—a lot of things could have gone wrong with this game, and they did.
The fun of Ultimate Chicken Horse may be limited without others to play with, and its simple art design left a lot to be desired, but at $14.99, these are not good enough excuses to miss out on it. Single-player level creation games are intimidating and not for everyone, but with this particular multiplayer spin on it, you may find yourself to be more creative and thoughtful than you thought you were.
With that, it could be time for Jackbox Games to slow down, just a little. I question the need for a new Pack every year, because the more games you throw at players, the more creative concepts go underplayed, because people will just keep going back to something like Drawful. I still think that every Jackbox compilation is a treat, especially now that the studio has perfected the visuals and presentation for their games—but they run the risk of turning their annual treat into a chore.
I think about the supposed difference between “sentiment” and “sentimentality” when comparing this game to other story-driven titles: sentiment produces real, personal, and genuine emotions, while sentimentality is often a cheap, telegraphed way to provoke reactions by spelling everything out, usually in a hamfisted and highly-charged way (*cough*David Cage*cough*). Wandersong, with all of its mysticism, with its charming simplicity in both graphics and gameplay, expresses real sentiment. I very nearly missed this game, and I certainly don't want you to miss it.
Children, if you are somehow reading this, make sure that your parents do not get Nickelodeon Kart Racers for you. This game is a cruel punishment, and while I don't know you, I'm sure you do not deserve it. If you are gifted this game, tell whoever gave it to you to return it—that itself is a gift to them. If you cannot get rid of it, then get rid of it. Bury the game case in your backyard. Give it to your local Pagan to use it for their next Wiccan burning ritual. Go on a profound journey across the land and toss it into the nearest volcano. Nickelodeon Kart Racers is a sin masquerading as a video game, and now we must all wish for forgiveness.