What makes Dave the Diver work so well is wanting to see what comes next. In another game that just tacked on mechanics and plot devices with no plan, it could feel like the padding around a threadbare premise. But Dave’s kitchen sink approach somehow feels like a perfectly logical, if absurd, escalation — like a Tim Robinson sketch in game form. It’s a teetering pile of mechanics and minigames that never gets around to collapsing because the balancing act is just too much fun.
I’ve even got my own clandestine spaceship that I’m slowly repairing. It’s an option for escape, but it’s also somewhat hollow. Once the ship is repaired, I’ll be “free” to start my own spaceship salvaging company — it’ll be the same dangerous work, but at least I’ll be my own boss.
At the end of those levels, I collect an object that I need to return to Fallgrim Tower — as the game drip feeds me information, I learn I need all three of them to escape. I fight my way back, deliver the item, and then start off again toward a new temple. The premise is concise and understandable — go here, collect this, come back, repeat two more times, win.
I want to share it with my nieces and nephews, as well as my grown friends. But I hesitate due to the frustration of the combat and those imposing boss battles — those moments where I wish I had someone else to take over on the controller.
This is one of hundreds of games that ask us to kill and conquer, but never question our actions. The story tells us we’re here to have fun, and supposedly save the world.
Tokyo Mirage Sessions is a ridiculous gem that’s finally getting a second chance
John Wick Hex delivers a strategy game that explains how characters in action movies “work,” and it does that brilliantly.
No Man’s Sky Beyond scrapes away the grind, finds the fu
Great investigations and ancient horrors are hidden by frustrating action
This is the same city, just seen from a very different perspective.
It’s a gory, metalcore-driven, imperfect romp. It didn’t ask me for much: just 15 hours of my time and a willingness to admit that, all right, dragging a motorcycle across a demon’s face is, in fact, pretty b****s.
Dragon Quest 11 is a beautiful example of what a JRPG can be after 30 years of lovingly guided evolution. Its success is irrevocably tethered to those decades of development, though, and that means you probably already know if this is a game for you. If you're not already one of the faithful, Dragon Quest 11 is unlikely to make you a convert.
Even with my criticisms of the admittedly optional and inconsequential aspects of the game, Yakuza 6 succeeds because its core story is so compelling.