John Cal McCormick
- Final Fantasy IX
- Persona 4 Golden
- Mass Effect 2
John Cal McCormick's Reviews
We upset the cliché goth girl who is like, really into horoscopes and stuff. We upset the ow'right guv'nor lad's lad who looked like he was AI generated using only the phrase "probably watches Love Island". We upset the dork student who actually got her book out and started reading it mid-date rather than talk to us. We upset everyone. Speed dating? Spite dating. That's the future.
Brewmaster is really laid back. There are no fail states — or certainly none that we found. There’s no drama. Nobody dies. It’s just about brewing beer, and learning about beer, and then eventually entering a beer brewing competition to be crowned the titular Brewmaster™. That’s it. And we like it.
Star Ocean: The Divine Force is like a comfortable pair of JRPG slippers. If you're in the mood for a Japanese role playing game and you've played all of the good ones then you can rest assured that this one is fine. It's okay. It's comfort food. You know that feeling when you just wish Netflix would make another season of Mindhunter and so you end up watching Criminal Minds? That. Only in space.
We can scarcely recall an occasion where we were more disappointed by a sequel than New Tales from the Borderlands. We wanted to love this. We'd have accepted liking it. But we hate this game. This is a ten-hour narrative adventure that feels four times as long as it needs to be, with dreadful characters, and appalling, relentlessly unfunny jokes. It's a spectacular misfire, its only success to speak of being the rare example of a sequel so bad that it ruins the original, too.
Valkyrie Elysium is a game of two halves. The level design and objectives feel at least two generations old and the characters and storyline are more like placeholders than the finished article. There's no capital F feelings here or much in the way of narrative justification, but if you're okay with that and you just want fifteen to twenty hours of fast, frantic, fluid combat then we can just about recommend this one.
It's apt that the character you play as in Destroy All Humans! 2: Reprobed is named Crypto. Like crypto, the game is an interesting idea on paper, but we don't really need it, we don't want to hear about it, it keeps crashing, and if you invest any money into it then you're probably going to end up with buyer's remorse.
Cult of the Lamb is a game that is much more than the sum of its parts. Taken on their own neither the combat nor the cult management would be strong enough to carry the title, but together they form a compelling whole that's then further enhanced by the delightful art style and pervasive sinister tone. It's evil and wonderful and more than a little unhinged. It's also one of the most impressive games of the year.
The lack of genuine stakes means that Two Point Campus never becomes truly gripping, but the easy, breezy vibe makes for an enjoyable, leisurely build-'em-up. It's the perfect management sim for newcomers or children or even fans of the genre who just want a palette cleanser between more challenging titles. It's the sort of game you play on a Sunday afternoon, still in your pyjamas, with one hand because you've got a Cornetto in the other. And we're totally okay with that.
Phantasy Reverie Series is a relatively no-frills remaster collection. There's a couple of quality of life improvements and the games have a fresh lick of high definition paint, but if you didn't like Klonoa back in the day then you're not going to like it now. If you didn't play Klonoa at the time then you won't have the prerequisite nostalgia goggles necessary to gaze upon these games and see them for anything more than what they are - a couple of pretty good platformers and little else, and that's fine.
The only issue we had with Yurukill was that it never felt like it went far enough. It's a compelling tale and it moves at a brisk pace, but it lacks the malicious edge of a Danganronpa or the brain-breaking narrative of a Zero Escape. By the time it's all said and done, we'd enjoyed our time with it, but we were a mite disappointed that it didn't push us harder.
We’re giving Fobia - St. Dinfna Hotel the benefit of the doubt. It’s flawed for sure. But the ten or twelve-hour playing time is mostly a good time thanks to the effectiveness of the titular guest house as a setting and the oppressive atmosphere it manages to conjure during your stay there.
So we recommend Super Perils of Baking, it's a solid seven out of ten, and we promise, scouts honour, no word of a lie, we'll never do a review like this again.
Swansong's biggest problem is that at times it's perhaps not as clear as it could be about what you're actually meant to be doing or how to bypass certain problems, and you'll find that it's trial and error that gets you through. There's also a couple of technical issues, including one in which we spent ages wandering around trying to solve a puzzle only to reset the game and discover that the solution to the problem hadn't loaded the first time around. Not cool.
Tiny Tina's Wonderlands retains the inherently entertaining shootin' and lootin' gameplay that the Borderlands series is known for, but you're frequently held back from enjoying it because of repetitive missions, tedious busywork, oodles of padding, and the game's relentless need to be funny. It's characters won't shut up, frequently stopping you playing so it can perform another inane comedy routine that limply, embarrassingly fizzles out like a deflating corpse, farting decomposition gases to the tune of "Ta-dah!"
Stranger of Paradise: Final Fantasy Origin thinks that it's Daniel Craig's James Bond but it's actually Austin Powers. There's barely a moment in the game that isn't stretching credulity, be it the absurd writing, bewildering story, or inane characters. There's a host of technical issues, too. But somehow, despite everything, it manages to fail upwards and be a pretty good time. Maybe we've lost the plot but we liked it.
There's no mechanics, really, to speak of. There's no combat for us to discuss. You can't even jump on command — only at specific places. Submerged is a chillout experience about exploration with a slight story and basically nothing else, and honestly, we're okay with that. Not everything has to be explosions or sad-times-my-kid-died-and-now-I've-grown-a-beard depressing drama. Pop on Submberged as a palette cleanser between more involved titles or as an escape from the horror of reality and you'll be fine. This is fine.
There's an interesting story here and the horror-JRPG vibe is much appreciated, but whatever enjoyment they could bring you is utterly annihilated by the outrageous, egregious amount of grinding you'll need to do to see the game through. Monark is gaming reduced to a thick, treacly sludge to wade through, no cutscene or story beat or reward ever feeling like it was worth the struggle. Just play Shin Megami Tensei while listening to Nine Inch Nails and you'll have a better time.
If we had to make a list of things that are totally radical then dinosaurs chasing and eating annoying fannypack-wearing tourists while we triumphantly hum the Jurassic Park theme tune would be top ten. Maybe even top five. We're here for that. Minor quibbles with the main campaign aside, Jurassic World Evolution 2 delivers an entertaining if simplistic park builder, that well-utilises the Jurassic World license, and throws in just the right amount of dinosaur-fuelled mayhem to boot.
The story is slight, the acting is rubbish, and the special effects are merely effects. The synthwave soundtrack is actually really good. It lasts an hour and change which, like most Wales Interactive movie-games, is absolutely perfect. You probably already know if you think you're going to like this, and if you do you're probably right. We liked it, but mainly for the wrong reasons.
Gameplay-wise, not much has changed since Little Hope. You'll spend much of your time walking about, inspecting objects, talking to people, making decisions, and taking part in quick-time events. The formula works, and the six or seven hour running time means that the rudimentary controls don't outstay their welcome.