Rock, Paper, Shotgun's Reviews
Gathering Storm is a chunky collection of small remixes that amount to a big difference.
For less than a couple of quid, this is well worth it. Randomly generated puzzles, so you won’t run out, plenty of options, and that bonkers triangle mode for a real head-scratcher.
But besides all this, it is simply a good time. And there is an unmistakable, open-hearted joy to fixing problems for people as an intimidating agony uncle. Even if it usually involves hitting them with a bike first.
A slow, gentle, personal RPG, with neat little stories, characters I remember, and a real sense of having spent time in a special place.
Gosh I was all ready to love going to Art Sqool. But either I or it have failed. Nowhere near as odd or quirky as its trailers suggested it could be, and offering no surprises, its fun is over in the first few minutes. Bums.
Just a few weeks ago I wrote about how I wished more games would embrace the absurd, and that’s exactly what Away: Journey To The Unexpected set out to do. It succeeded, but oh boy did it fail.
Dumb, funny, exhilarating, varied and full of stupid explosions. Like the drones it summons, Ace Combat 7 is not exactly self-aware. But it is close enough, judging from the humour of its over-the-top action. And it barely matters anyway, because it’s a damn fun videogame.
In summary, it’s good and I like it.
Newcomers to the genre may find it tedious despite these improvements, but if you’re all about that renovation grind, My Time At Portia is one of the most modern takes on the genre I’ve seen in a long time.
Is this particular endless space war worth enlisting in? If you’re looking for an incredibly deep 4x – no. If you’re up for some big, beautiful, dramatic RTS campaigns with weighty, satisfying combat, and don’t mind waiting for a patch to iron out a few creases – then yes.
At The Gates has an impressively complicated set of interlocking systems, but the amount of time and patience it takes to actually get anywhere is ridiculous.
A drug I don’t want to quit. A miracle of design? Yeah, go on.
I love the presentation, I love the conceit, but ultimately this is just a cleverly disguised badly designed point-and-click adventure.
That’s where Resident Evil succeeds. Not in the drivel spouted from its character’s mouths, but in the bullets spewed from their guns. Or better yet – the clicking of empty chambers, or the spine-chilling scratches of scrabbling overhead. I may hate lickers, but I’m also a little bit in love.
What a really pleasant time this is. It’s family-friendly, without being a kids’ game.
I’d love to have played a game that tried to explore that rocky landscape, with some nuance, some introspection, and most of all, with some humility. This is not that game.
YIIK might have been able to get away with some of its issues if other areas were able to pick up the slack.
Bury Me, My Love isn’t, first and foremost, a treaty about refugee-ism: it’s a compelling and effective game about deciding what the hell to do next.
I love the ideas behind The Pepper Prince. A little queer love story, written in verse, presented in faux-ASCII. Sounds gorgeous. But on the evidence of the first episode, the verse is poor, the story meagre, and the puzzles absent. Which makes it hard to recommend. And yet, had I not winced and winced at the writing, I’d have enjoyed the aimless process of clicking through it all.
Largely, though, Catherine Classic is a pretty fantastic rerelease of a cult hit that people have nattered on about endlessly since its debut.