As I've written before, I'm on the autism spectrum, which for me means that I can be overly sensitive to lights and sounds that neurotypical people tend to be able to tolerate. A lot of games like DOOM and Call of Duty fall into this camp, overloading my senses to the point where my eyes start to water and my ears recoil in fear. The Last Clockwinder is an excellent example of the opposite of that, offering a gentle, kind tour through a broken-down clock in a giant tree.
I felt like begging the game to try something, anything new, no matter how badly it was implemented, just to break up the monotony. But Chorus rarely takes any swings, so in theory it lacks any "misses," with few glitches or moments where one element butts up against the rest. That might mean that people won't hate it, but it also means it's a game that people won't really love, either.
undefined.But as is often the case, if someone's biggest complaints are that they just wish there was more of a game, that usually means they enjoyed their time with it. And I adored my time in Random. It's pretty remarkable how a game that's likely considered a "AA" title, somewhere between indie and "AAA" in scope, manages to create an experience parallel to full "AAA" games from just five or 10 years ago. There's a lot to be cynical and skeptical about in the gaming industry, from continuing abuse within its studios, to a seeming lack of original ideas in its biggest titles, to so much more. But games like Lost in Random remind me that there's still magic and joy to be found in videogames, even from a company that can be as cold and calculated as EA.
The way characters move and express in combat never gets old, even as everything around it quickly does. I can see the massive amount of love and care put into one element of the game, which conveniently is the most visible one for observers. But once I pick up the controller, it becomes clear that level of detail is only surface deep.
If you loved VII Remake, it's hard to imagine you not enjoying this episode. But if you haven't been able to find a PS5 or don't want to pay extra for it, you're not missing out on too much, either. Episode Intermission feels like a nice, bite-sized snack to munch on while waiting for the next main course with the second part, providing just enough new wrinkles and story elements to feel fresh while not doing anything crazy enough to warrant it as essential.
Little Nightmares II's ambition makes the original look like its introduction, and although this added ambition contributes to some of its frustrations, they ultimately don't prevent it from becoming even more clever, gripping and chilling than its predecessor.
With Carrion, I wondered how Phobia Game Studio would be able to keep me interested without that dynamic. They managed it through the careful balance of giving you enough agency to feel powerful, while still requiring you to plan and act with precision to use that power effectively. The result is a razor-sharp campaign that fully put me in the amorphous shoes of its terrifying beast.
If you're completely, absolutely sure that you'd enjoy Battle for Bikini Bottom as much today as you did as a kid if not for the outdated platform and visuals, Rehydrated serves the same experience in a cleaner package. However, if you, like me, have fond memories of the game as a kid, muddied by the passage of time, be warned that this remaster might take your rose-tinted glasses and break them in two.
In every aspect of Owlboy, care and careful consideration has been applied to create a seamless experience without the bells and whistles of modern AAA games. There is nothing in the way between you and Owlboy’s tragic yet comic characters, captivating dungeons, and irresistible soundtrack and visuals.