While some are saying that this game is too short, too lean, and too simple to be truly great, I disagree. In fact, I submit that it was precisely the simplicity of the original 3D platformers of the 1990s that made them so timeless and special. Many modern games that attempt to recapture the feel of this era oftentimes fall foul of this modern tendency in game design to bloat the gaming experience as much as possible in order to make the purchase feel justified. "You want more of the stuff you loved years ago? Well, how about that, times ten?!"

A game like Super Kiwi 64 doesn't need to bloat its gameplay because its pricetag is so low and the company is just one person. Gone are the corporate hierarchies that breed the worst gaming decisions from an experiential and artistic perspective. What remains here is just one amazing game.

I remember seeing the trailers and early gameplay footage for this thing and being quite excited for it. Feels bad, man...

Apparently the VR remake of this is actually quite good, given the fact that they stripped back the pretentiousness and just gave us what this game should have been all along: a museum-style walkthrough that simply allows us to revel in the visuals. But the original release of the game attempted to tack on a story and a sense of consequential decision-making that really cut its own legs out from under it. We want to experience the cool visuals at our own pace in a game like this, not fumble about trying to "win" the game

I have watched censored playthroughs of this. I have not played it myself, and I never will.

This game is absolutely terrifying, sickening, haunting, disturbing, disgusting, and nauseating. I mean none of these adjectives as positives. Real gore and CP images pop up on the screen. An allegedly real murder scream of a woman is heard at one point. The atmosphere, sound design, visuals, and gameplay are intentionally disorienting and stomach turning. I cannot find anything about this game that is redeemable. It was made with the express intent of permanently changing the people who play it in the worst possible way. Things taken from the darkest corners of real life that one can never unsee or unhear, put on display here frivolously as level design elements. I am not a prudish person by any means. But this game is filth. There is no other way to describe it. Fuck it to hell.

There was a time when Layers of Fear was praised nearly unanimously for being one of the most brilliant and effective interactive horror experiences to come along in many years. Back then, it was allowed to admit that one had played the game and actually enjoyed it. The game's developer, Bloober Team, was also respected and considered a very capable company that developed smart, narrative-driven experience games like this one, The Medium, and the cyberpunk masterpiece Observer.

Then, one day, it suddenly stopped being okay to like Bloober Team. And by extension, of course, it also stopped being okay to like any of Bloober Team's games. I'm not sure why this became the new accepted norm (I must have been absent the day that memo got sent out), but all I know is that everywhere I turn online nowadays, when Bloober Team comes up, the hate circle jerk begins. And it doesn't end until everyone involved is good and sore.

Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to join in on the fun. Not only do I chafe quite easily, but I also just can't grasp the reason why I'm supposed to hate this company and their games now. I know it must be something I'm doing wrong. See, here's my problem, and maybe someone out there can help me with this: when I play Layers of Fear in 2024, it's still exactly the same game it was in 2017. Maybe that's just my copy of it? I think it must be, since everyone else now plays a game that is described as an absolute half-assed piece of shit when they boot up their copies.

I'm not sure how my copy managed to miss this en masse metamorphosis from horror masterpiece to worthless garbage that befell everyone else's. But I guess unless I trade my copy in for the changed version, I'm stuck still enjoying it like everyone else did when it was new. :(

I guess I'll just have to wait for another opportunity to jump onto the Groupthink Express. I hear that Forspoken is bad because there's a female protagonist in it who is happy and says awkward things. Maybe I can play that next and finally be one of the True Gamers(TM). One can only hope!

The Siactro shared universe is finally coming together for me.

This is only missing a half-star because it still doesn't quite compare to the best games of the series it is paying homage to (likely due to its length). But goodness me, does this game still tick all the right boxes for me in terms of how to do nostalgia bait correctly.

The music composer, RCMusic, also understood the assignment. Visions of David Wise, and no, that will never be a bad thing. In fact, I think the world would be a much brighter place if there were thousands more David Wise clones making music this beautiful.

It's a good proof-of-concept for a loving Spyro homage. Pretty graphics. Good level design. Memorable music.

The issues come with the controls. And unfortunately, that's the main aspect that needs to be as close to perfect as possible for a platformer. A game like this will make or break based on how tight the control of the character is. As of this writing, the early access version of Zera is an absolute mess in this regard. The camera sensitivity is far too touchy, meaning that it is difficult to properly aim my direction without unintentionally overshooting my trajectory and veering off too far to the left or the right. Moving Zera around the game world also feels very "slippery." Timing and aiming precise jumps, as well as staying on course over thin bridges with little margin for error while charging, old school Spyro-style, is far more unwieldy than it should be in a game that touts itself as a spiritual successor to that game.

A particularly frustrating section of the game for me came in the very first proper stage. This game's equivalent of the egg thief character, sack of goods in hand, spotted me and started running in the expected circular pattern I had seen dozens of times before. I've been playing Spyro for decades. I am no novice to these chase sequences. And yet, I found that the imprecise, slippery movement of Zera meant that I was never able to maintain a consistent path or momentum long enough to ever catch up with the little bastard. Each time I would find my rhythm and speed, I would lose control of Zera and go flying off the ledge and into the depths below (yes, the game's very first chase sequence, which should arguably serve as a tutorial for the mechanics of them, takes place on a very thin, circular section of land over a pool of acid).

All of the pieces are there. The game has potential. But as I was playing Zera, in its current janky state, all I could think of was how much it was making me want to simply boot up Spyro and play it instead.

When the indie game market is currently overly saturated with samey pixel art Metroidvanias, it's nice to see a different form of nostalgia art tapped into once in awhile. So is the case with Crow Country, a survival horror game done lovingly in the style of the PS1 classics Resident Evil and Silent Hill. But this game offers its own charm to the mix, featuring an art style (and a soundtrack) that holds much more in common with Final Fantasy VII than it does those formally mentioned titles.

This means that when you embark on the adventure that awaits you in Crow Country, you feel a bit cozier and calmer than you would typically expect to feel in a horror title of this stripe. The music is soothing beautiful, the character models are done in a cute, chibi style, and the monster encounters are sparse enough that they don't feel overwhelming.

The game's graphics and sound provide an amazing atmosphere, but the puzzles are also a refreshing aspect that keep the experience of playing through Crow Country engaging. Similarly to the look and sound of the game, the puzzles also provide a "sweet spot" of just the right mixture of challenge and ingratiation. Yes, the puzzles aren't obvious at the outset, but none of their solutions ever came across as moon logic. Once you get the hang of how the solutions are found, all of the puzzles in the game end up feeling very intuitive and logically sound. At no point along my adventure did I ever feel like the game was trying to outright trick me or be unfair. The puzzles aren't immediately understandable, but pretty quick, with enough exploration of the game world, they become very simple and straightforward.

And then, there is the story. And I will not spoil it here. But what I will say is that it is exceptionally executed. Its simple brilliance honestly caught me off-guard. And it makes the whole experience much more meaningful than a simple nostalgic romp. The narrative helps give Crow County its own identity despite its obvious influences.

The game can also be played as a purely casual exploration game. Which is also a pleasant experience. But I recommend simply playing it in horror mode. Even with the scares, it isn't terribly oppressive.

A thrilling example of how higher effort nostalgia can really give birth to something special. I'm floored.