Washington Post
HomepageWashington Post's Reviews
It is a beautiful-looking game with a juvenile mind-set that’s fun to pass through but hard to be riveted by.
“Half-Life’s” ties to survival-horror shine in “Alyx.” One enemy that most who have played “Half-Life” will remember are the Barnacles — monstrosities that attach themselves to the ceiling and dangle their long, thin, dark tongues close to the ground. VR makes their presence more unnerving. A random moment I loved happened when I pulled an object toward me that a Barnacle caught then with its tongue and devoured. I moved into place underneath it while carefully avoiding its grotesque appendage and fired a few shots, killing it and causing it to spit up my item. In that moment, and several others, I felt noticeably transported to one of the most vivid science fiction worlds I’ve experienced.
After three games starring the cute, black-eyed burlap doll Sackboy and a mammoth 11 million user-created levels, Media Molecule, the developer behind LittleBigPlanet, yearned to take community-based game making to the next level. It took seven long years, but Dreams is a far more visually wondrous example of the “play, create, share” mantra from the U.K.-based, Sony-owned studio.
As the video game industry experienced tumultuous change in the last decade, Kentucky Route Zero has felt like an anomaly, unconcerned with industry trends. Even as an episodic game, developer Cardboard Computer took years at a time to release acts — something most episodic titles try to avoid. It’s like Kentucky Route Zero was rejecting every rule, doing things its own way. Through that, it became one of the most important experimental games ever, establishing itself as a major player in the discourse of whether games are art. Kentucky Route Zero screams an emphatic and stubborn “yes” to that question.
Twee as it is, it’s an achievement that shows how a familiar video game form can be made into something more quiet and unhurried than one might be used to; personally, I’m all for that.
Player choice is one of the best parts of Obsidian’s new RPG, The Outer Worlds. The game’s connections to Fallout: New Vegas are undeniable and can hold it back in some instances, but it still carves a pulpy, sci-fi identity of its own.
Over the length of this very long game you’ll travel back and forth across the streets of Revachol, repeatedly interviewing and following up with people. If you’re not averse to reading loads of text that is often funny and given to riffing on different ideologies, it can be an easy rhythm to get into. Don’t dawdle. Go ahead, run toward the wild side.
This is old-school Zelda the way you’d like to remember it.
If only more big-league developers dared to be this bonkers, the industry would be that much more untamed.
Wolfenstein: Youngblood provides a decent co-op experience for friends to indulge in. It’s like going to a place where you know the service is fine and you wouldn’t look for anything unusual.
For all the little ways I can nitpick Fire Emblem: The Three Houses, there is no denying the elegance with which so many of the gameplay systems are intertwined. I enjoyed micromanaging the progression of my students on and off the battlefield. I just wish I was able to think of them as more than colorful pawns.
A particular strength of the game is that it alternates between perilous action and periods of reflection where the characters process the changes they’ve observed in the world and in themselves.
It’s vexing that a game that requires such skill on the part of players has technical issues. As with FromSoftware’s other games, you don’t have to look hard to spot enemies whose attacks pierce through walls, or notice fluctuations in framerate. To be sure, neither of these issues have sharply dampened my appreciation for “Sekiro,” but I very much hope that a patch will be released to improve the waffling framerate on consoles.
It’s not very nourishing but it may satisfy a special craving.
If one were to judge a horror title solely on its ability to suspend its audience in a state of dreadful tension, Resident Evil 2 would be quite accomplished.
The Return of the Obra Dinn is a stunning work of craftsmanship. Pope, who handled every aspect of its production himself, has created a work that celebrates scrutinizing details.
I’ve tried to make peace with the possibility that Tetris Effect is a game I love too much.
One of the moments I knew the game had worked its voodoo on me was when I recoiled a little at my first sight of the city of Saint Denis. After spending so much time in the countryside and in small towns, I briefly identified with Arthur’s distaste for city life. Mind you, I live in Brooklyn. Need it be said that I’ve to had to stop myself from playing into the waning hours over these past weeks? My cousin told me that the game made him feel glad to be alive. I couldn’t agree more.
It’s fair to say that few other games have enchanted me this year as much as this platformer.
Quinn’s story is a reminder of how, at any moment, chaos may erupt into our lives. By focusing on his troubles and dramatizing our efforts to help him, “Stay” ties itself to a tradition of existentialist artwork. Considering that the ending I obtained wasn’t anything I’d wish for Quinn, I’d say that the game affirms that sticking with a person throughout his or her personal tribulation is a noble act in and of itself even if, on some level, your actions prove insufficient. Oh, well . . . maybe I’ll watch the other endings on YouTube.