Banana Rumble is fun. I love playing it. I thought I was mostly done playing it until, about 300 words into this review, something unexpected happened: I got The Itch. I’d beaten all the levels, but I wanted to beat them again. I wanted to take a crack at the missions, which I’d largely dismissed as frivolous on my first run. I wanted to go for some records in time attack, especially pre-release, when the sparse competition would all but guarantee me a spot in the top 5. (As of right now, 6:03 a.m. on June 23rd, 2024, I have Giant Bomb’s Dan Ryckert beaten by two seconds on the world 1 leaderboards. Dan, if you’re reading this: your move.) The game works, in all the ways I expect it to. Maybe not in all the ways I want it to, but so what? Banana Rumble doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be good. And for Super Monkey Ball, “perfect” and “good” are very nearly the same thing.
Watching Dragon’s Dogma 2 spin its web is immensely rewarding. I won’t pretend all of its systems are novel, but its greatest strength is its resolute belief that every decision it’s making is the correct one. It is a shockingly confident, personal work. I’d call it a contender for game of the generation, but what would be the point? Dragon’s Dogma 2 doesn’t demand comparison. It merely shows up, works its magic, and takes a bow.
You’ll also feel like you’ve helped write one. Ghost Trick is a story about stories, about how the invisible machinations of a guiding hand can create something whole and beautiful. It could only ever be a video game. At the risk of embellishment, it might be one of the video games. That it’s found a home on modern hardware is encouraging, and that Capcom saw fit to leave it more or less untouched is a small miracle. This is Ghost Trick as it always was: pristine, unassuming, and inimitable. And this remaster will make you glad that it’s been resurrected.