It's the sort of game that needs a notebook and pen at hand; Simogo will actually provide you with this directive in a Lorelei and the Laser Eyes instruction manual found early on in the game. Twenty-five hours into Lorelei and the Laser Eyes, I've got dozens of pages of madman scribbles, notes that would look like nonsense to anyone but me. Some of the puzzles I worked on for hours without even opening the game itself. On one particularly hard (and optional) puzzle that required no knowledge of the game itself, I asked my sister for help. Days later, she sent me a photo of the answer, scrawled out on a work-branded Post-It note. When we got the answer, it seemed so, so obvious. Simogo has really found the recipe for making you feel so dumb, and just as quickly, the most brilliant woman on Earth.
You'll have a lot of stuff to pick up at each of these locations, but the most important items will often provide a "Hey mom!" option, which lets Tess call Opal over. Opal's role in these situations is to provide context about her childhood, how she experienced the past, and what these items (and the secrets that come with them) do to color those memories. They're all essential conversations related to the big, overarching mystery, but they sometimes feel stilted; the "Hey mom!" button gets repetitive, making all the potential sincerity feel cheapened.
In trying to do everything, Starfield obfuscates its most compelling mysteries.
I played through The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood once, but it’s clear that it’s a game with a lot of different paths and outcomes. Though fate may be determined, The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood’s ever-branching story has many conclusions.
I would have loved more Venba, with its vibrant sound, touching story, and mouthwatering food, and yet, I still feel like Visai Games has told a complete, focused story.
In the end, I loved the idea of Oxenfree 2 more than the game itself. It’s a game that has the right pieces, but falls short of putting them together in a way that lives up to the innovative, classic experience of the original game. A more compelling story is frustratingly hidden within the game’s branching narrative system, and it’s a shame that some people will miss it.
Dredge parses out these moments of rewarding exploration without losing focus on its core conceits of fishing and discovering new creatures. But it also masterfully balances two distinct tones. It comprises the sort of dread and horror that sneaks in, eyes jittery, after too many nights with too little sleep. It’s not a boiling terror and panic, but more of a simmer. There’s enough daylight for something of a reprieve, but it never sticks around for too long. Dredge is the perfect sort of dark yet cozy game. It can be unsettling, yes, but it never swims too far into the abyss.
Tchia could easily have filled the action-adventure mold of so many games before it. It takes even more of a risk by pulling so heavily from The Legend of Zelda. But, despite those influences, it isn’t weighed down by that sameness. Tchia’s transforming power comes from her eye, green where the other is not. It makes sense, then, that it would let us see Tchia’s world, and this genre, in a whole new light.
The Case of the Golden Idol is a game that makes me feel like a TV detective, slapping photos on a wall and drawing red lines between them. Those strings of yarn crisscross throughout my notebook, connecting characters and murder weapons and motives. It’s easy to get sucked into small details looking for a lead, but the feeling it gives when I’ve locked in the correct answers… It’s like I’m the most brilliant person on earth — even if just for a moment. The Case of the Golden Idol, like other deep detective games, expands past its own boundaries and into the pages of my notebook, leaving me thinking about its clues long after I’ve closed the game.
The Last of Us is very much a product of its time, and there’s certainly issues there. But now that I’ve seen how well it’s aged overall, I can really appreciate it — not as a cultural relic or a stepping stone, but as its own grisly, beautiful creation.
Electronics Arts has said an update toward the end of this week will be deployed to fix these bugs and others. It’s certainly not an ideal rollout for a highly anticipated expansion pack like High School Years, but once that fix rolls out, the expansion is well worth a look.
There’s a lot to do in Bear and Breakfast, a lot of story to unspool, and a lot of different characters to meet. You’ll pick up tons of trash and serve food to the humans that threw that trash on the ground. You’ll put down carpets and hang photos on walls, install plumbing and hire someone to fuel your fires.
This game is so mechanically satisfying, so endearingly fun, that I couldn’t wait to hop back into the familiar environments, which remind me so much of crouching around that TV as a kid all those years ago.
It felt nostalgic, like playing a video game sitting next to a friend, taking turns flipping the manual pages back and forth. It felt like making notes in those margins, circling hints and clues to come back to later. Sometimes, it was utterly surprising. A person found something so bizarre, unlike anything I'd seen yet in this world - and it flipped the game upside down. There's the community aspect to the language, too: Little bits open up as others present theories and translation methods, each pulling a different piece of information into the puzzle. When someone makes even the tiniest breakthrough, it feels unreal.
Strange Horticulture is, appropriately, a strange game, one of those simple premises that balances intrigue, sense of place, and puzzles in a satisfying, tactile way.
OlliOlli World showcases that creativity in its fairly expansive multiplayer and social elements as well. Within each level, I can see leaderboard stats for other players - including a few close to my skill level, deemed my rivals. But I can also watch replays of their runs, to see how they've approached these different levels and what tricks landed them their scores. I can watch replays for the top scorers, too.
In following these threads, Tux and Fanny transcends its original art style by introducing new games - literally found on floppy discs hidden in the world - that are essential to Tux and Fanny's lives. In these games within the game, the pixelated characters may enter a surreal 3D world, turn to claymation, or find themselves rendered in watercolor paint. Heck, there's even a home simulation video game that has me playing a looped section over and over again; the loop changes slightly each time, eventually descending into nonsense. And yet, it makes complete sense.
Halo Infinite swaps out the loadouts and armor abilities of earlier games for a few new pickups, including the grappling hook, which is by far the most useful of these tools. After relying on it so much in Halo Infinite's campaign, it feels criminal to pass it by in multiplayer.
What makes Animal Crossing an appealing franchise is that I’m able to meet it on my own terms — even if those terms are the polar opposite of the ones I brought to the game in 2020. New Horizons is no longer my “global living room,” as Bijan Stephen described Fortnite in 2018. It’s more like my secret clubhouse, a space that’s mostly just for me, and maybe the kind of friends that feel comfortable sitting in silence. Coming back to the game this time — alongside all of its new content — means doing things differently, but it’s still just as satisfying.
The slow pace and gentle yet solemn storytelling — with lots of bright, joyous moments, too — is delightful, and I’m eager to learn more about Moonglow Bay and its people, in a town shaped as much by fishing as it is by grief.