Rock, Paper, Shotgun's Reviews
It moves along at a good pace, introducing new puzzle concepts thick and fast rather than overly relying on what's been before. And like I say, it looks absolutely lovely as it does it. Simple reds and greys are portrayed with a deft use of texture, a lovely papery style to the defiantly 2D design.
The result is a really splendid example of the form, with enough original ideas of its own within the standard to make it interesting. It’s a good, solid game, that’s occasionally extremely tough, but always fair.
Despite its flaws, Tales of Berseria has numerous interesting stories to tell. If the developers had cut the flab and focused almost exclusively on the cast of characters – with some combat thrown in – then I think this would have been a must-play. As it is, I think it’s still worth playing if you’re a fan of story-focused JRPGs, as long as you know you’re strapped in for the long haul.
A House of Many Doors has so much lovely writing and is so ambitious. It’s also so entirely in the shadow of its spiritual sibling. As a result it can’t hope to escape constant comparisons even if it proves preferable to the narrative tastes of some players. It’s the Dannii to Failbetter’s Kylie.
This isn’t going to entertain the brainboxes who demand Stephen’s Sausage Witness before they’ll get out of their four-dimensional beds, but for a chilled puzzling time, they don’t get much better than this. It’s really splendid.
At a certain point it starts to feel really not OK that you’re interfering in this person’s life. You can send unfinished emails, and, well, worse, and I love that it includes this. Because at that point you really start to ask questions about what you’re doing here, and at that point the game becomes something more, something bigger than just a narrative you’re experiencing – it crosses over into feeling a teensy bit real. I love those moments. It’s to A Normal Lost Phone’s credit that it achieves this.
The result is something that’s… average. Average, the most boring of the conclusions to reach, to write about, to read about. So sorry about that. But as you’ll know, not the most boring to play – it just means it’s fine, it passes the time, it could be a lot better with a clearer interface, the removal of its gibberish plot, and much fairer windows for the timing challenges, but none of that would raise it much past “above average”. It’s just an average idea, done reasonably well. And sometimes that’s enough.
Mainlining could have been a good, comedic antidote to Orwell’s overt political warnings. As it turns out, it’s got as many flaws as an outdated Windows operating system.
This is a game that can scare you, startle you, shock you, draw a nervous laugh out of you and make you shake your head in disbelief, but mostly it’s just here to entertain. And the Bakers are right at the horrible heart of it all.
If it weren’t for a final act that stretched itself a little too thin for my liking, spooling out the denouement for longer than necessary, I’d have enjoyed almost every minute of Detention.
Were it to have the greater depth of a Puzzle Quest game I could see myself getting really drawn in, but as it is it’s a really neat example of the genre that still feels disposable enough that I’ll not be bothered once it finally does want my cash. It waited too long! If they’d an ounce of sense they’d drop the IAPs and just stick a £5 charge on the game. But until they cotton on to that new-fangled notion, if you’re after a smart implementation of Threes-like input and tile-based battling, Tiles & Tales does that, and is free!
It’s free, it’s short, you didn’t know about it before just now and now you do and you know I think it’s not very good. I don’t feel good about that, you likely don’t feel good about that, but perhaps you’ll have become intrigued and decide to take a look anyway. Perhaps you’ll offer them some money after finishing it when prompted. I dunno. Death sucks.
By sticking on a rigidly deterministic (and, thus, politically questionable, however well-intentioned) reading of two centuries of European history, Urban Empire fails to tap either of those joys, revealing its incessant march towards the present is not an ongoing process actively shaped by individual players, but a foregone conclusion simply waiting to be ushered in.
Sanctus Reach’s unit and faction design and flexible mechanics deserve a much better campaign and fewer constantly recycled objectives.
There’s greatness here, and damn, it’s so funny and cutesy-sarcastic. The puzzles are top notch, and the dungeons, when properly equipped, often a pleasure to plough through. But there’s just so much annoyance layered on top for absolutely no discernible reason, beyond presumably a fear that their sequel didn’t feel sufficiently different. The silly thing is, it was.
It is lovely, though, and one of the friendliest, warmest logic puzzlers I’ve played.
Ladykiller does a lot of good, but that doesn’t mean we should overlook what it gets wrong.
It’s definitely got a place in my games library, and it’s a really good way to play a version of the board game my friends and I enjoy even though we’re rarely in the same city at the moment.
I’m very glad it exists. If it is simply interactive fiction, it’s a wonderfully inventive take on it. I love its symbology and mystery, its citations of fictitious scholars with their disagreements and lapses, the way you can interpret a culture as deeply pious or vaguely threatening through nothing but squiggles assigned meaning – its exactly the kind of story that makes me think that if Borges was alive today he’d be fascinated by videogames.
Pick through the shit and you’ll find the nuggets of gold, but if I hadn’t sucked every last drop out of Afterbirth, I’d rather be playing that than Afterbirth †. As it is, I’m just about won over by the promise of new things, many of which are solid additions, but there’s a lot of dreariness to tolerate.