Kotaku's Reviews
Sadly, the end result of Crisis Core is an overcomplication of the story established in Final Fantasy VII, filled with various details that just amount to more history lessons and homework to be able to make sense of everything. Its undying antagonists and plot points that refuse to be resolved (Genesis’ fate is uncertain in the end) weaken the role of death. When we consider that so much of what made Final Fantasy VII impactful was the irreversible death of an important character, it’s hard to walk away from Crisis Core with the impression that anything is meaningful or at risk of loss in this world.
But sadly, a reliance on bad stealth sections, a lack of scares, and an overabundance of upgrade materials early on derail the game and make it a rather lackluster, not very scary experience.
I feel like Scarlet Hollow is a demonstration of how the format for the visual novel is just a foundation on which so much greater can be built. While the screenshots may look like a standard VN, the game itself is vastly more, not just with its RPG-like systems and ridiculously complex balancing of choices, but the far greater sense of scale, time, and significance. I’ve been blown away by it all over again.
I consider The Callisto Protocol one of the most ambitious games I played this year, maybe even the most next to Elden Ring (though I think Elden Ring is in a league of its own—I don’t know if anything will be able to approach its depth and sophistication for a long time). Its thoughtful attention to environment, sound, and touch is what, I think, next-gen gaming should be like: an experiment with the senses and with story. The game has its issues, too, which can’t be ignored. But at least it feels human.
I know, I know, I’ve had my fun mocking the visual glitches and performance issues in Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. But I really hope that the performance issues don’t ultimately define how we talk about this generation of games. This isn’t just a game that needed more time in production—Paldea is fundamentally not designed to be pleasant to explore. The open-world mechanics might have felt more novel if I hadn’t also fallen off Pokémon Legends: Arceus earlier this year for similar issues with samey world design and unremarkable graphics. Scarlet needed to clear that low bar, and it did not. Maybe by the time the next generation comes along, the series will be able to recapture what makes Pokémon so thrilling in the first place.
Need for Speed Unbound is unlikely to pull the franchise out from underneath the shadows of bigger, more popular racing games in 2022. But I do think it has a chance of helping the series stand out more. And regardless of if Unbound becomes a big hit or not, it’s a damn fine game with some great ideas that make every race more exciting and every upgrade feel more valuable. And it looks rad the whole time, too.
For me, Evil West is the kind of game I miss these days. I’ll fully admit, I love games like Destiny and Fortnite, games that never end and are filled with battle passes, crafting, loot, etc. Those games can provide hours of fun and are great to play while chilling with friends or listening to a podcast. But I don’t want everything to be a complex, all-encompassing, time-monopolizing social experience that continues to grow and evolve as time goes on. And Evil West is a wonderful example of the kind of games I want more of moving forward. Not everything needs an endgame or a crafting table. Sometimes, I just want to move forward, hear some bad banter and punch some monsters in the face for a few hours. And Evil West gave me exactly that. No more. No less.
Kratos and Atreus are the heart of this new era of God of War. Ragnarök provides them plenty of quiet moments and lets you see just how much they’ve grown and developed since 2018. Getting to see the journey they take together to reach this new point in their lives is truly my favorite part of this sequel.
Although Bayonetta 3 sequel baits itself in its after-credits, its ill-advised twists have truly sapped my enthusiasm for further adventures in this universe. If I were to revisit the Bayonetta franchise again, I’d most likely opt to replay Bayonetta 1 or Bayonetta 2 instead of subjecting myself to Bayonetta 3’s lackluster story again.
Even the world itself is a bummer. Victoria 3's map is beautiful, even more than Crusader King 3's, a globe bristling with colour and variety and an ever-changing landscape as cities and railroads expand over the decades. But you rarely, if ever, actually use it. This enormous 3D recreation of the entire planet is sitting in the middle of your screen for almost the entire time you play the game, taking up huge amounts of real estate, and you almost never (there are a few exceptions) have to click on it, since the game’s primary interactions are all more quickly and easily handled via sidebars and buttons. It’s a real shame!
I really hope Sheinman does something very different for his next game, because I really think this format is done now. But Riley & Rochelle is a great, if sometimes scrappy, way to prove what a solid idea it’s always been.
Valkyrie Elysium feels much more like a spin-off entry in the Valkyrie Profile franchise than a full-fledged new main title. Its smaller scope, budget, and design lend it a “PlayStation 2 game” feel. The game’s combat is its saving grace, alongside some fun character interactions. Without the Valkyrie name and branding, Elysium could’ve very well been written off as a somewhat generic action game.
This is a splendid creation, superbly written, with spellbinding art, and a unique approach to telling a story. It’s also a fascinating exploration of grief, loss, and more than anything else, how we react to change. That and secret underground organizations and their evil plans to control towns through fertilizer production.
Deathloop is a deeply kinetic game where everything feels at its best and most satisfying when you’re on the move, teleporting around cover and force-pushing people off rooftops. And as repetitious as it can be, the act of moving, shooting, and engineering the slaughter of dozens of costumed enemies is so exquisitely tuned that the mischief never loses its lively spark.
That’s naïve, overly-simplistic advice, maybe, but we’re a decade into this series’ slide straight into hell and nothing else seems to be working, so it’s worth a shot.
I want art to be a place where I can find love, beauty, or truth. Without these things, Marissa Marcel was better off lost.
Life blows up sometimes, especially if you’re trying to make a living as a creative. Art is extremely volatile under capitalism. But through support systems that uplift us, whether that’s pushing us to do better or joining our indie pop band, we come to find out that we are o-fucking-kay.
And without giving anything away, Live A Live culminates towards a powerful conclusion that will have its time-spanning heroes living on in your memory long after its credits roll…for the ninth time.
Near the end of the game, I had a private conversation with one of my party members, Disciple. He was a former Jedi trainee who metaphorically worshiped the Exile. My character opened up about how guilty they felt about leading others into a galactic space war, and expressed doubts as to whether the party members had followed of their own free will. Disciple didn’t wholly convince me that he was totally unaffected by the Exile’s Force sensitivity, but in 2004 it felt transgressive for KotOR 2 to interrogate the ethics of RPG protagonism. It still feels relevant in 2022, when even the most ambitious, story-rich games can’t seem to avoid centering themselves around the player. What a very important person they must be.
I went into Stray expecting a platformer about a cat. I did not expect a deeply profound meditation on what it means to be alive.