Slant Magazine
HomepageSlant Magazine's Reviews
Its methodical, stop-motion approach to gameplay forces players to be as economical as possible.
Street Fighter V feels more like an irritatingly incomplete service than a game that cares about its legacy.
Few games attempt to channel the myths of the open road, the feeling of going nowhere in particular much too fast.
The game earns its beauty, though the narrative isn't always as tightly knitted together as it needs to be.
At best, Doors is a game about the illusion of choice, and Weibel's is the only one that matters.
Because creativity comes at the cost of cohesion, the whole adventure turns into one irritating mini-game.
You have quite a collection of spectacular failures here in cohesively telling the story of these two films.
It's interested only in presenting a near-pornographic level of human despair in a warped attempt at edifying players.
It's a shame that the game loses the player so early, and that it takes so much of its length to win one back.
It shouldn't be cutting corners, and it's silly that the four major zones are all still so faded, dull, and repetitious.
The game allows players to learn and wonder at all the symbolism at their own pace, to draw their own conclusions.
Both Klaus and the game are clones in search of higher sentience, and they both get there in the end.
One of the finest, most relatable examples of the incredible empathy that video games are capable of inspiring.
Instead of improving upon the original game's basic mechanics, this remaster instead indulges in fan service.
Players will remain invested in a story that, if not entirely original, remains exciting and poignant in equal measure.
It doesn't ever completely shy away from using filler material after successfully building so much momentum.
This revival of the 2003 cult classic is a rhythm game driven by the synesthetic idea of physically interacting with sound.
The game's images convey less the abstract terror of an unknown world than they do a sub-American McGee warping of childhood innocence.
Imagine a roller coaster that stops for maintenance every 30 feet and doesn't allow you to exit, even after you've already been around the track a few dozen times.
The game can be enjoyable, but the barrier to entry is so high that it's hard to recommend.