Rock, Paper, Shotgun's Reviews
The brilliance of Undertale, its delicate balance that it manages for most of the time you'll spend playing it, is that it understands how to be scary and funny all at once. Inside the Snowdin library there are leather-bound books that contain strange prophecies, books that say profound and disconcerting things about the human soul.
While it is an enormously satisfying and well-crafted game, SOMA never managed to convince me that its themes and plot were in tune with its more traditional first-person frights. It scared me and it gave me cause to think about some of the issues raised, but now that I'm done, I doubt it'll stay long in my mind, or plucking at my nerves.
I enjoyed Bedlam, without a doubt: it looks great, it motors along and the fights are thoughtful as well as punishing. I don't necessarily feel like I'm going to go back to it though. While it looks lovelier than FTL, it doesn't have the drama and tension which keeps me committed to that game of endless space danger.
It's entirely possible that you'll respond much more kindly to Dropsy than I have. I wish it had been easier, with a second layer of clues accessible beneath the basic pictograph conversations perhaps. I also wish I'd felt more of a connection with Dropsy himself and I have no doubt that some people will.
What you have here is a decent, if flawed game. And it's been released into a market with some really stunning games in the same genre. If you've bought it, and are playing it, the chances are you're having fun and not regretting the purchase. You would, of course, tick Yes when asked if you like it. So would I.
It's charming and evocative, but the more I play it, the less substantial it gets.
Such player-driven drama, comedy, and action eclipses anything in the disappointing scripted narrative. The Phantom Pain is one of the worst Metal Gear stories ever told. It functions neither as a standalone narrative nor as worthwhile insight into the series overall. And yet, The Phantom Pain is the best stealth-action game ever made, one where playing flawlessly is just as thrilling as outright failure. And boy – what a thrill.
Fran Bow made me smile more than any other game I've played this year. That might come as a surprise if all you've seen of the game is a couple of screenshots feauring gore and dead kids. Fran Bow opens with a gory murder scene and then traps its young protagonist in a creepy institution for (criminally?) insane children. But that initial setting and the dark tone are just a small slice of a story that spans worlds and perfectly captures the beautiful, delightful nonsense of Alice's Adventures, an inspiration that is imprinted on the game.
I enjoy a lot of things about Act of Aggression: the bloody, orgiastic spectacle of it. The tactical combat that puts a premium on winning the battle for map vision and positioning. The nuanced faction differences. But Act of Aggression is also a game that obscures information rather than reveals it, and attempts to bewilder you with a million minor choices rather than a few clear-cut strategic decisions. In sharp contrast to Eugen's previous work, my first enemy is always the game itself.
Despite some characterisation wobbles and a somewhat perfunctory final mile, STASIS is the best adventure game I've played in years. It's also one of the most impressive horror games I've played lately. The tiny team behind it have done remarkable things, far in excess of what many, much larger studios seem capable of. Those studios should be afraid – be very afraid.
At its best, Satellite Reign has more in common with Commandos than Syndicate. It's a splendid construct, built to endure and to sustain repeated playthroughs in various styles, but I can't shake the feeling that, minute by minute, a little more chaos and unpredictability would go a long way.
There's a good couple of days' play here, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with any of it. Those fearing it would just stop unfinished need not worry, as while it teases more to come, the story is self-contained. The issue is, it's just so unremarkable.
If you've been round the neon block a few times already, then Hong Kong's going to feel pretty familiar, despite being perfectly solid and having a few new toys plus a wider, more ostentatious stage than ever before.
In many of the later [missions], bigger and more multi-path, I was reacting instinctively, taking risks and having them pay off, finding a groove. There was flow and joyfulness. The good game at the heart of all the frequently irritating bluster and padding shines through.
Rite Of the Shrouded Moon is a quiet, careful joy, spinning an impressive tapestry out of relatively few threads.
It's a reasonably short game for £14 – perhaps an afternoon's stuff to do first time through. But it's so unrelentingly lovely, and such a rare pleasure to be experienced without constant worry about being shot in the back of the head, or eaten by a wolf, or running out of time, or any of the other ways games so desperately want to concern us.
Rocket League might be my favourite multiplayer game in years.
Good performances, some very nice animation (albeit embarrassingly similar to Telltale's look), and a couple of passable puzzles, just aren't enough to compete with some astonishingly dreadful design decisions, the monstrously slow pace, agonising traipsing, unskippable repeated dialogue and laborious cutscenes, violently pisspoor platforming and action sequences, complete lack of introduction or explanation of who anyone is for people new to the long-dead series, ghastly controls, cheap and tacky on-screen prompts, obviously designed for tablet interaction, and god-awful instant deaths.
I have no interest in finding out where the plot goes, because so far it's Arbitrary Events In The Lives Of Wooden Characters, but I do want to find out which dramatic places it will show me next.
It certainly doesn't get to join the elite group, but if you're after some ARPG entertainment, it more than fits the role. I'm far from finished, after spending a hefty amount of time with it, so there's a lot on offer here, not least with the incentive to replay older sections to perfection. Turn the voices down, put a podcast on, and sink in.