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If you want to know if this is a good videogame, just look at the first paragraph. It does exactly what it says on the tin. If you want to know how fashion can enrich your life, here’s my advice: you, too, should just buy this game. Just get it already. And maybe that pair of shoes you’ve been eyeing. You earned it.
Pac-Man, Dark Souls, the best Metroids and Marios and Zeldas—the true classics, the cornerstones of the medium that have made an indelible impact on how we play and think about games. Thumper is right up there alongside them. It is an essentially perfect realization of its own unique goals and concerns, and a game we’ll be playing and celebrating for decades, even if it leaves us afraid and confused.
Live A Live still has it. Takashi Tokita led a young team of fans at Historia, Inc. to create a version of a classic as vibrant and exciting and crucially unique in Square’s catalog today as it was in 1994. Released between Final Fantasy VI and Chrono Trigger and passed over for translation due to its technically less impressive sprite work compared to its flagship siblings, it shines today as the celebration of a cult classic, with a worldwide legacy and influence as an important milestone in an entire alternate history of RPGs. Live A Live is the exact opposite of the unique masterpiece that’s so good it ruins other games: it is a heartfelt tribute to everything there is to love about the RPG format, and will leave you invigorated and excited not just to play more RPGs, but to watch more Kung Fu movies, more Westerns, more classic Sci-Fi. If you’ve even a passing interest in the genre, it is simply a must play.
Will you like Shenmue III? I can't say. This is likely the last new game I'll play before the year ends, and it's a sure win for my Game of the Year. Shenmue III spoke to me on a level few games have. I thought about giving it a 10/10, even began gearing myself up to argue that with my editor. But Shenmue isn't perfect. It defies real perfection, because life is imperfect. Shenmue III is knobby and requires tremendous, repetitive effort before it gives up the special, unique warmth.
Before I decided it was time to break from playing and settle in for the long process of writing my chronicle of the Auriga Vault, I sent a signal to my Carpathia, far away in another ocean entirely. It read: I was wrong. It’s not the men having a bad time. It’s me. And I’m loving every horrible minute of it.
The depth you expect, the open exploration and constant sense of discovery the series is known for, are here in perhaps greater effect than ever before, but with the systems and mechanics that drive the moment-to-moment action heavily overhauled. The result is a Zelda that feels unmistakably like a Zelda, but that also breathes new life into the venerable classic. It’s too early to fully weigh it against the historical record, but if forced to rank the entire coterie of Zelda games, Breath of the Wild would come in near the very top.
The key to games is what they do in response to our actions. We put ourselves into these things through button presses and the decisions that we make, and how we feel about them is dictated by what we receive in return. Ideally, that receipt will be something we can classify as fun, no matter how vague that term is. Like so many Nintendo games, fun is definitely the primary product of Super Mario Odyssey, and the sole reason it exists. Cool: The Mario game is good.
It's a maximal game with big wacky characters and a killer shotgun. This is a game about friendship and games about friendship fucking rule. Rift Apart is better than action figures.
Saltsea Chronicles, put more simply, is triumphant. It’s up there (amongst very tough competition) for the best game I played this year. I found its measured and realistic portrait of the collectivist society it portrays extremely hopeful. It pushes the medium forward, as cliche as that may be to say, in its insistence on theorizing the specifics of a social and political philosophy to its conclusion.
At its very worst, 1000xRESIST manages to be “fine.” Its “worst” lasts about three minutes, and it is still ridiculously compelling all the while. At all other times, 1000xRESIST relentlessly operates at its best. It’s one of the best stories in the medium, one of the best games this year, and one of the best games I’ve ever played. It’s no coincidence that it was nominated for three IGF awards this year, with one of them being the grand prize—it’s an achievement, and every inch of it deserves to be celebrated. If this world is just, it will get the incredible fanfare that it spends every minute earning. It’s simply an astonishing debut from Sunset Visitor; I can’t wait to see what other stories they will grace us with in the future, what other experiences of theirs I will be this desperate to hold onto.
Persona 5 might not be for you—maybe you've no love for the anime aesthetic, or maybe the notion of an 80-hour game with no open world isn't your bag. Maybe you don't like JRPGs! But maybe, if you're anything like me, you'll spend eighty-three hours with this game over the course of a month and sit there as the credits roll with an empty feeling in your chest, turning your year in Tokyo over and over in your head, thinking of the friends you spent time with and the struggles you endured together.
The player, a gun, and things to kill. That has always has been DOOM, and id's legacy has been rekindled with DOOM (2016). You may argue that a good sequel's job is to iterate on past successes, to further develop mechanics, or to evolve a title to the next step in its life cycle. But DOOM (2016) isn't a departure or a reimagining. It's something much better, much more pure. DOOM (2016) is a homecoming. And boy, does it feel good to be home.
My sole criticism is its length. Given how tied up I was in the suspense, Tacoma's short play time seemed almost merciful, but I would have liked to have spent more time with each of the characters (even the AI, Odin), or get a more thorough exploration of the game's intriguing conclusion. That being said, Tacoma is remarkable and I look forward to the impact it will have on narrative devices in videogames.
Until Dawn is genre-changing across the board, and I literally cannot wait for other games to pick up even 1% of what it brings to the table in terms of narrative and design innovation.
Titanfall 2 is a constant delight. There were many points in the game where I audibly exclaimed how cool and awesome something was. I am hyped to play more of it and I definitely want to play through the campaign again. With a glut of first person shooters being released this season, Titanfall 2 stands out as something that should be played with its fantastic campaign and enjoyable multiplayer.
Platinum and Yoko Taro are an expert pair here, harmoniously bringing together dozens of eclectic sources from philosophy to anime to history to real-life war to silly, over-the-top fight sequences into one cohesive whole where not a single part feels unnecessary, and all contribute to the larger message. It is a timely story about our priorities as a society and our continued relevance in an increasingly automated world, told in a clever way that makes meaning out of about four different genres worth of mechanics and yet could still be called elegant. It's a sharp commentary that could only be done through games, and for now, it is easily the magnum opus of either of its authors.
If you commit and dig in, you'll be rewarded with that rare feeling of accomplishment in a videogame. Not because you leveled up or because you managed to get one over on the game, but because the puzzle feeling of Into The Breach makes the game appear to be extremely fair. I never feel like I've been tricked when I lose, and I never feel like I've done something out of bounds when I win.
By the end of A Plague Tale, its surviving heroes have earned their rest. It's hard to say goodbye to them, though, the same way it's hard to no longer spend time with the characters of a great book or TV show. A bittersweet post-credits sting hints at what might await the de Runes in the future; hopefully that's a story that players will be able to explore one day.
But how do you review the experience of a city? I still don't think I know. Perhaps, as Judgment understands, our experiences are too precious, too deeply personal to do more than hint at suggestions of experience. To anecdote and extrapolate. To let slip the micro moments of intimate connection to a person or space, to leave others with only the wordless emotion of a snapshot.
I wish I could say something more eloquent than that I have an already immeasurable amount of love for The Last of Us Part II.