When I was younger, the Wii was my main game console, and aside from the hacked hard drive of 200 games that we had and the occasional trips to the store for new releases, one of my sources for Wii games was bulk-buying pirated game discs. Most of these didn't actually work (or they only worked for a little while), but one of the few that did was Donkey Kong Jungle Beat, and so when my family found its disk within a stack of shovel ware and movie tie-in games yesterday, I immediately remembered playing through the first level and getting scared of how intimidating the first boss was when I must've been around eight or nine years old. After finding the disc and seeing that it still worked after all these years I spent the past two days playing it, and I was surprised with just how much of a blast I had with this game, and I'd honestly consider Donkey Kong Jungle Beat to be one of the best games in the franchise.

When it first came out on the GameCube, Donkey Kong Jungle Beat was designed to be played with the DK Bongos, and as much as I wish that I had that controller for the sake of both novelty and to see how the game worked around Nintendo's answer to the Dance Dance Revolution mat, I still thought that this game felt great on the Wii. Although the level design is much less tough than that of the original Donkey Kong Country trilogy, Donkey Kong is given a ton of new moves to make the levels feel more dynamic, with the shockwave move in particular making attacks feel satisfying and powerful. Along with avoiding obstacles and getting to the end of the stage, Donkey Kong Jungle Beat also puts an emphasis on chaining moves in order to collect as many bananas as possible (which are eventually used as both your health for the kingdom's boss fight and the game's method of ranking your score), and combining that with Donkey Kong's new side jumps, ground pounds, and wall jumps gives the game a unique sense of flow and rhythm that feels immensely rewarding when pulled off correctly, especially thanks to the game's immensely over-the-top presentation. Despite how much this game deviates from the rest of the series, Donkey Kong Jungle Beat still managed to feature a good amount of animal sections which served as good shifts from the core gameplay, and the same can be said for the genuinely fun water levels.

As I was playing Donkey Kong Jungle Beat, it didn't take long for me to start making connections between this game and Super Mario Galaxy, so I wasn't surprised to find out that they were both made by the same division of Nintendo. On top of using a few of the same sound effects, Donkey Kong Jungle Beat also shares some ideas that were expanded upon three years later, such as the giant flowers that fling you after spinning on them and water sections in the sky, and it was interesting to see these concepts in their infancy. My only gripes have to do with the boss fights, because while they were fun, there wasn't much variety to them, as there were only four kinds of bosses that got repeated each time (aside from the final boss). Wall jumping was also a bit finicky when it came to dodging attacks from bosses, but that's more of a nitpick than anything major. Donkey Kong Jungle Beat was an amazing and inventive platformer, and while I didn't get to experience the game with the original DK Bongos, I still had a ton of fun with it.

Like most of my experiences with the Zelda franchise, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time took me way longer to complete than I thought it would, as I've been playing this game on-&-off for almost two years now. Maybe it's the game's immeasurable influence on both the Zelda franchise and video games as a whole, or the impossibly high standard that the game has been held to by people online over the years, but for whatever reason, I rarely found myself committing to Ocarina of Time and would play other games instead, even if I did have fun pretty much every time I sat down to play this game. Because of this, I guess it must have been a good thing for me to get so sick of Tears of the Kingdom (which, by the way, I'll get to writing my thoughts on once I've beaten it), as that was what motivated me to finally wrap up my playthrough with this landmark title.

Unlike what a lot of people have asserted for the past 25 years, I don't see this game as a perfect one, but if there's one thing that Ocarina of Time knows how to do exceptionally well, it's creating a distinct and wholly engrossing atmosphere. Every village, dungeon, and temple feels distinct from the last, and the eccentric characters and charming, yet occasionally macabre art direction gave places like the Hyrule Castle marketplace and Kakariko village a ton of life and personality. Koji Kondo's score was especially effective in establishing the mood of each area, with the themes for the Great Deku Tree and the Forest Temple being some of my favorite pieces of video game music ever thanks to just how evocative and hypnotic they are. The temples themselves were already a lot of fun thanks to their solid puzzles, bosses, and utilization of the items that you unlock throughout your adventure, but their unique atmospheres were what really held my attention. Aside from the titular ocarina, one of the main mechanics that Ocarina of Time brought to the table was that of time travel, and while it's slightly annoying to have to go to the Temple of Time whenever you need to go from being an adult to a child or vice versa, I still thought that the concept was well-implemented, as the contrast between the cheery innocence of Hyrule during childhood and the decrepit nightmare that it became seven years later made me want to explore the entire map just to see what was different about each area.

Ocarina of Time is one of those games whose reputation feels impossible to live up to, but even then, I felt that my gripes with the game were big enough to affect my overall experience with it. One of my biggest hurdles with this game would definitely be its control scheme (although this issue can be seen in a majority of the N64's library due to its bizarre anomaly of a controller), as the clunky Z-targeting and stiff aiming made combat encounters not feel entirely responsive or reliable. I also found Navi to be irritating with her useless advice and constant utterances of "Hey! Listen!", although her presence never pushed me to the point of frustration. Talking about this next criticism is a bit of a dead horse by this point, but I still felt that the Water Temple hurt the overall pace of the game, because while I wouldn't consider it to be outright bad, the amount of times that I had to keep equipping and unequipping the same iron boots made it feel tedious and sluggish. Despite its open area, Ocarina of Time is actually quite linear in its progression for both the main story and the side content, and while that isn't a problem by itself, it made me wonder what the point of the empty hub world connecting the actually interesting areas was. Even after unlocking Epona, traversing Hyrule Field was just sort of dull, and unlike something like the open seas of The Wind Waker HD, I was never really compelled to explore this area and instead headed straight for the next temple, side quest, or minigame that I had lined up for me. Ocarina of Time was both highly influential from a design perspective and a fun game in its own right, and while I don't see it as the best Zelda game or even the best game of 1998, let alone of all time, it still managed to stick the landing for me 25 years after its release.

When I beat the first Castlevania game last year, I wasn't a big fan of it, as I thought that practically everything about its gameplay had aged poorly in some way, but I was still excited to check out the other games in the series. I had heard that Super Castlevania IV was a good entry in the franchise, but I honestly had no idea that it was a reimagining of the original game until recently, and so that made me much more intrigued to check out what was different about this version. Now that I've spent the last two days playing through it, I can definitely say that Super Castlevania IV was leagues ahead of that first NES game, and while it still missed some marks in a few areas, I still thought that it was a great game.

Pretty much all of my gripes with the original Castlevania can be found in its controls, as every one of the six things that you can do in that game was clunky in their own ways, but Super Castlevania IV completely remedied my issues with how the first game felt to play while still retaining the core of what made it unique. Not only can you swing your whip in way more directions than just left or right, but you can also flail your whip freely at the cost of it doing less damage, and that made combat feel more versatile and responsive. You also get to swing on hooks using your whip for different platforming sections, and I especially liked the use of that mechanic when it came to finding the occasional bonus item or secret. Giving items their own button was a godsend, as it made it so that you don't accidentally waste hearts every time you pressed the attack button whenever you climbed up some stairs while also just being more convenient. When it came to moving and jumping, Simon Belmont felt a lot less stiff to control here in Super Castlevania IV, and being able to actually change directions mid-jump rather than having to commit to every single movement was an especially nice touch.

In my review of Castlevania, I mentioned that the two best aspects of that game would be the atmosphere and the music, and both of these elements were vastly improved upon here in Super Castlevania IV. Although its visual style didn't take as much direct inspiration from the Universal horror movies of the 1930s and 1940s, the game still looked great in its detailed sprites, Gothic architecture, and imaginative enemy designs, and it also featured some pseudo-3D graphics that were especially impressive for an early SNES game. Pretty much all of the music here in Super Castlevania IV was great, as they all fit the macabre tone of the game while also being immensely catchy and memorable. For the most part, Super Castlevania IV was consistent and tightly constructed in terms of both its level design and its boss fights, but the latter element seemed to drop for me at the very end. While the fights against Gaibon and Death were manageable, Slogra requires a heaping spoonful of luck to beat thanks to his huge hitbox and attacks being nearly impossible to dodge, and while the climactic fight against Dracula gets brought down just a little by its heavy reliance on RNG. Despite its flaws, Super Castlevania IV was still a great game in my eyes, and aside from historical reasons, I don't really see any reason to go back to that first Castlevania game when this version managed to excel in places where the original one fell short.

Aside from seeing its cover pop up in a few of Dunkey's videos, I knew next to nothing about God Hand going into it, but seeing its immensely high average rating on Backloggd and the reviews that were exclusively just quotes from the game kept me curious about what the game was actually like. Although I have played through a few of Shinji Mikami's games in the past (with the original Resident Evil 4 being one of my favorite games), there was so much about God Hand that made his other games feel tame and restrained in comparison, so when I found out that this was essentially his passion project, it totally made sense to me. Although it took me a bit to fully grasp everything about the game and its mechanics, I immediately fell in love with God Hand once everything clicked, and it was one of those games where I spent practically every waking moment thinking about how amazing it was.

God Hand is going to be celebrating its 17th anniversary later this year, and I don't think that a single game has come out in all that time with a combat system that even comes close to the one that is present here. This game's in-depth and hectic combat system is one that blends seamlessly with its high difficulty curve, as customizing your combos with new moves from several different martial arts means that you're constantly trying to find ways to take enemies down effectively while also trying to dodge as many attacks as possible. When you kill an enemy in God Hand, you practically send them into another plane of existence, as all of the moves both look and feel satisfying to execute thanks to their pure, raw aggression, with the pummels, stomps, suplexes, and spankings being especially fun to pull off with their flashy animations and use of button mashing. Despite how tough it can be at times, God Hand never felt outright unfair to me, as the lack of any real secret to being good at the game other than just knowing its ins and outs meant that every victory, no matter how small, felt immensely rewarding. This especially applies to the boss fights in God Hand, as the cranking up of the game's fast pace and focus on reaction time and positioning leads to some of the hardest, most pulse-pounding, and exciting boss fights I've ever seen in a video game.

In my eyes, the gameplay alone was enough to make God Hand an all-timer for me, but it also managed to stick the landing in so many other ways that I ended up loving the game even more than I could've imagined. Even with its challenging combat, God Hand practically never takes itself seriously, as its quirky brand of absurdist comedy made it so that my encounters with poisonous chihuahuas, punk rockers, and boss fights against lucha libre gorillas never felt out of place alongside the slapstick-heavy action, over-the-top storytelling and lovably campy voice acting. The game's stylish art direction made all of the environments and enemy types feel very memorable, with the major boss fights looking especially striking in their scaly, hellish designs. The music for each of the game's stages are all immensely catchy, and they also fit the tone and atmosphere of each stage really well. God Hand also allows you to gamble in between stages in order to potentially get closer to getting that next upgrade, and not only are the more conventional card games like blackjack and video poker already fun and laid-back to play, but you also get the opportunity to bet on chihuahua races, and while I lost money every single time I played that minigame, I still found it quite fun. There's no doubt in my mind that God Hand is one of the very best games I've ever played, and while there are still a ton of character action games that I still want to play, I don't think that any of them will be able to get any better than this.

The three games made by Team Ico have been some of my most anticipated games for about as long as I can remember, and since I absolutely loved the Shadow of the Colossus remake back when I played it on the PS4 two years ago, I was even more excited to eventually give Ico a try. Long before I played any of these games, I remember being struck by the beauty and detail of this game's European cover art, and it looked like one of those covers that perfectly reflected what it was like to play the game. As it turns out, I was half right, because while I would say that I liked Ico overall, the elements that this game handled poorly meant that this statement would have to come with a bunch of asterisks right alongside it.

If there was one word that I'd use to describe the atmosphere of Ico, it would be "mysterious", as practically every aspect of the game's presentation evoked that feeling. This game placed a heavy emphasis on visual and environmental storytelling, as the simple, fairytale-like plot, fictional languages, and minimal dialogue put a stronger emphasis on having the moment-to-moment gameplay be the main source of the game's storytelling than the cutscenes. This stripped down, minimalist approach made me really appreciate the detailed art direction, as the cinematic camera angles gave the castle's mossy stones and rusted metals a strong sense of ancience. Ico also doesn't use music very often in favor of the naturalistic sounds of bird chips, waterfalls, and Ico's own pitter-patter, but the game's few uses of actual music were beautiful, and they greatly strengthened the emotional impact of the scenes that they were featured in. Despite how all I did was have her hold my hand and watch her climb ladders throughout my playthrough, I was surprised with how much I cared about Yorda, as having to take her everywhere made me feel like I had formed a genuine bond with her without having the game straight-up tell me that I did. All of these elements made for an especially impactful ending, as the use of the song "You Were There" being combined with the filmic cutscenes left me in awe.

Despite how much Ico got right in terms of its atmosphere, storytelling, visuals, and uses of sound, the actual gameplay was what held me back from liking the game as much as everyone else apparently does. The worst part of Ico would easily be its combat, as everything about it felt unintuitive with how long it took for enemies to die and how sluggish the weapons were to use. Every combat encounter in Ico felt like it was interrupting the game rather than complimenting it, as spending minutes at a time just mashing square until the copypaste enemies eventually went away felt mindless, and it didn't even really make sense for a quiet, thoughtful game like this to even have combat in the first place. On top of that, the wonky controls felt like they were working against me a lot of the time, as they not only made the combat more annoying to deal with, but they also made making any jumps or even walking in a straight line annoying to deal with. Granted, Shadow of the Colossus also featured some janky controls, but the weighty physics applying to both you and the Colossi made the fights exhilarating, whereas the simpler gameplay of Ico made its unresponsive controls a lot more apparent. That being said, I did enjoy the game's final (and only) boss battle, as having to run behind cover in between attacks made for a tense and exciting fight. Ico is not a perfect game by any means, but I'd still consider it to be solid time overall, and while it didn't reach the heights of Shadow of the Colossus, I'd still say that I'm interested in checking out The Last Guardian at some point.

Although I have dabbled in fighting games here and there, the only major franchise in this genre that I'd consider myself to be a devoted fan of would be the Super Smash Bros. series. In terms of the genre's most iconic franchises, I find the first three Mortal Kombat games to be irresistibly charming and nostalgic (even if they barely work as actual fighting games), and the phrase "not my thing" constantly echoed throughout every match of Street Fighter II I've ever played. Other than that, the only fighting games I've really sunk my teeth into were the Super Smash Bros. games, Injustice 2, and, for some reason, the Wii port of The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy. Despite all of that, the Tekken franchise has always looked intriguing to me after playing a bit of Tekken 6 at my cousin's house a few years ago, and since I've heard a lot of people say that Tekken 3 was the best game in the series, I was pretty excited to give it a go.

I don't know what it was about Namco's late-90s offerings on the PS1, but they always seem to be jam-packed with personality, but unlike the laidback confidence of something like Ridge Racer Type 4, the cool allure of Tekken 3 comes from its in-your-face aggression. Even when you're not fighting an opponent, Tekken 3 still knows how to put you in the mood to fight someone from its varied cast of characters, as the stylish menus, energetic prerendered cutscenes, and amazing music do a lot to make the game look as exciting as it feels to play. Speaking of which, the actual combat in Tekken 3 is awesome, as the tight controls, buttery-smooth animations, and the well-implemented third axis meshed well with the impressive amount of moves and combos to make each punch and kick feel natural and weighty. The satisfaction that comes from experimenting with the roster is amplified by a ton when it comes to learning combos, with characters like Bryan Fury and Eddy Gordo being especially fun to play as thanks to how flashy, yet intuitive their movesets were for me. Pretty much every positive thing I've said about Tekken 3 is increased tenfold when multiplayer is involved, as this game is an absolute blast to play with a friend.

As great and mechanically robust as the traditional one-on-one fights are, I will admit that the most enjoyable way to play Tekken 3 for me came from the ever-so-silly "Tekken Ball" mode, and while the actual path to unlocking it can feel a bit grindy due to how often you have to keep replaying the game's standard arcade mode, the amount of fun that I had playing the mode made it all feel worth it. Playing through that mode was also satisfying in its own right, as it not only unlocked the rest of the game's roster, but each playthrough rewarded me an ending cutscene that pretty much always made each run feel worthwhile in how over-the-top (and occasionally funny) they were. My only real complaints with Tekken 3 can be found in its single player content, because while there are quite a few modes to choose from, a lot of them just felt like slight variations of the arcade that you're already going to spend a lot of time with. I also wasn't the biggest fan of the "Tekken Force" mode, because while the concept of a Tekken beat-em-up is really cool, it was all very clunky in its execution, and actually beating it feels based more on luck than anything else. These gripes pale in comparison to just how fun and stylish of a game Tekken 3 is, though, and it definitely deserves its legacy as one of the best fighting games on the PS1 (although it's not like it had very much competition to begin with).

My first exposure to Sin and Punishment came through the appearance of Saki Amamiya as an assist trophy in Super Smash Bros. Brawl (although I'd forget about the game's actual title until years later), and while I was interested in checking the game out, I wasn't truly excited to play it until just a few weeks ago. After having an absolute blast with Gunstar Heroes earlier this month, I took a peek at the rest of the games made by Treasure, as the only other game of theirs that I was aware of at the time was Ikaruga, and when I noticed that Sin and Punishment was a part of their catalogue, I knew that I had to play it soon. After failing to find a working English translation of the game, I decided to go ahead and play the original Japanese release instead, as it still had English dialogue, and this was honestly such a great decision, because while Sin and Punishment only took about an hour or two for me to actually beat, I can't wait to get back and play it again.

Sin and Punishment is a game where practically every one of its elements is fine tuned to perfection, as it kept me totally hooked and engaged without overstaying its welcome. The on-rails gameplay here is sublime, as it blends a tight and precise control scheme with never-ending cavalcades of enemies to shoot, attacks to avoid, and projectiles to deflect to create a consistently frantic experience where you're constantly on your toes. Despite how simple the controls actually are, there's a surprising amount of depth to your in-game moves, as even choosing between lock-on and free shooting can be the deciding factor between beating a particular enemy or boss or dying and having to start over. Speaking of which, Sin and Punishment also features some amazing and chaotic boss fights, with the final boss being intense, exciting, and visually stunning to the point where I genuinely could not believe what I was seeing. In terms of difficulty, Sin and Punishment was honestly pretty tough, but getting a full grasp of your whole arsenal of attacks and abilities made everything feel fair while still putting up a good challenge.

On top of having some superb gameplay, Sin and Punishment is also one of the best looking games on the Nintendo 64. The pre-apocalypse artstyle is oozing with style and grit, and I was very impressed by the amount of detail that all of the backgrounds and enemies had, especially with how fast-paced the game is. In terms of story, Sin and Punishment was admittedly difficult to fully take in and comprehend, but even then, I still thought that it was really cool. What starts out as a game about simply fighting off an army of Ruffians ends up involving time travel, visions, and the cosmos, and the over-the-top storytelling felt like a perfect fit for the high-octane insanity and constant setpieces of the moment-to-moment gameplay, with the delightfully campy voice acting being the cherry on top. Although there are a ton of games from the Nintendo 64 that I still haven't played yet, I have no problem with saying that Sin and Punishment is my favorite one so far, and not only am I excited to replay it over and over again, but I also want to eventually play its sequel on the Wii, Sin & Punishment: Star Successor.

It's been a little under a year since I played through Resident Evil 4 for the first time, and while I am still incredibly glad that it served as my introduction to both this franchise and the survival horror genre as a whole, there's still some part of me that wonders how differently my opinion on both of these things would have been if I decided to start off with the first game in the series. Over the years, I've heard a lot of great things about the GameCube remake of that landmark title (as well as its HD remaster), and while I technically could have went out of my way to buy it for the PS4 at some point, I already had access to the director's cut of the original PS1 game through the PlayStation Classic, so I decided to go with that version. Despite how it pretty much singlehandedly created survival horror as we know it (even to the point where it coined the genre's actual name), I was surprised by just how easy Resident Evil was to jump into, understand, and have a good time with, and while there were some elements of the game that I really wasn't a fan of at all, my eight-ish hour run was still a pretty positive one.

For the most part, the gameplay loop of Resident Evil can generally be boiled down to either exploration, puzzle solving, or combat, and it's good that all three of these elements of the game were fun in their own ways. The first two aspects of this game are pretty much intertwined, as going through every nook and cranny of the Spencer Mansion and its subsections not only rewards you with more items to use during your playthrough, but also different kinds of documents that reveal more and more details about what is going on. Although the game only features a few different kinds of weapons, the action in Resident Evil managed to feel good while still making its combat encounters tense thanks to the limited ammo, steer-heavy controls, and increasingly powerful enemy types, and the combination of these led to several occasions where simply running away from whatever was facing me was the best option. Each of these elements of the gameplay were solid on their own, but what made them even better for me was the game's strong atmosphere, as the cinematic fixed camera angles, ominous score, and detailed models made the moments where Resident Evil was legitimately trying to throw me off guard work quite well while also having the minute-to-minute gameplay feel tense in its own right.

From a gameplay standpoint, Resident Evil was already pretty solid, but my favorite aspect of the game was easily its story moments. Despite how the actual plot merely gets the job done and not much else, the infamously bad voice acting and dialogue was what elevated it to the point where I really looked forward to each cutscene. Even when putting the classic lines regarding Jill sandwiches and being a master of unlocking aside, pretty much every line that the characters say is funny in some way without ever actually trying to be, and that made Resident Evil feel like a playable zombie B-movie (which, in my eyes, is a huge compliment). I had quite a lot of fun with Resident Evil, but I won't deny that some of its design choices left me with mixed feelings. For me, the worst part of Resident Evil was easily the constant backtracking, as the limited inventory space makes it so that you have to constantly go back and forth to swap items from the unmarked storage boxes that are scattered across the map. Having to decide what to keep and what to leave behind is an interesting concept, but its execution here felt tedious rather than strategic, and I much prefer the inventory management system that was used in Resident Evil 4. There were also some elements of the game that felt odd and unnecessary rather than outright frustrating, with the decision to limit saving your game behind a consumable item sticking out in my mind. Despite those flaws, I still enjoyed my time with Resident Evil, and I'm now interested in checking out the original versions of Resident Evil 2 and Resident Evil 3: Nemesis in the near future.

Racing games were never my thing. Unless the game was an entry from the Mario Kart series or was at an arcade, I would rarely find myself willingly sitting down to play a racing game, especially by myself. The amount of praise that I've heard for both the Ridge Racer franchise as a whole and Ridge Racer Type 4 in particular sparked my curiosity, though, and so I was eager to give that game a shot. From the moment I booted the game up for the first time, I was greeted by one of the coolest video game openings of all time, and while it did take months for me to actually have the chance to really sink my teeth into the game, the imagery of Reiko Nagase and those cars being set to the song "Urban Fragments" was burned into my brain. That two minute opening cutscene alone made me know that this game was something special, and now that I've been playing it, I've also been thinking about it constantly.

Among other things, Ridge Racer Type 4 is a game that many people associate with its phenomenal music, and it fully deserves all the praise that it gets. This game's fun, energetic, and optimistic soundtrack is a melting pot of several genres including funk, acid jazz, and D&B, and this eclectic mix not only matched the thrills of the game's high-speed races, but it also worked beautifully alongside the game's stylish UI to evoke a consistent atmosphere of levelheadedness and confidence that I absolutely loved. Speaking of which, the driving in Ridge Racer Type 4 feels great, as its physics and controls were arcade-y enough for you to be able to pick the game up and immediately have a good time with it while still being realistic enough to make refining your skills in drifting and turning feel immensely rewarding. Racing against a friend in two-player mode is already a lot of fun, but I also got a lot of enjoyment out of the time attack and extra trial modes, as it always feels satisfying to shave off even one millisecond from your previous record.

The main bulk of this game's single player content can be found in its Grand Prix mode, and I was really surprised to see how even that was filled with tons of charm and personality. The tournaments themselves have a great sense of progression to them, as being able to earn the trust of your team partners while also unlocking new cars depending on your performance made me want to do better for more reason than to just win. Not only was it interesting to see what racing meant to each of the team's characters, but the mix-&-match element to the Grand Prix's difficulty and car manufacturers made for some great replay value. Ridge Racer Type 4 is also one of the best looking games on the original PlayStation, and while that is kind of a given due to how this game was released towards the end of the console's lifespan, the detailed car models and backgrounds still dazzled me while also retaining a bit of the PS1's charming blockiness. I was really surprised by just how much I loved Ridge Racer Type 4, and not only am I excited to keep playing it, but I also want to broaden my horizons with the racing game genre, with the Burnout, Midnight Club, and Need for Speed franchises looking especially intriguing.

Like Hotline Miami, I spent a lot of time during the last 18 or so months playing Max Payne, but rather than aiming for the 100% completion route, I would instead pair it with DJ Shadow's Endtroducing..... and just replay my favorite levels on some of the harder difficulties. My love for the original game's writing and atmosphere are still there, but playing it this way for so long has oddly turned it into a comfort game of sorts, as I'd just sit back, turn my brain off, and blast gangsters away with dual Beretta pistols to the tune of songs like "What Does Your Soul Look Like (Part 4)" and "Midnight in a Perfect World". Because of how much I loved the first game, I was incredibly excited to check out its two follow-ups, and while Max Payne 3 did look the most intriguing due to how different it was from the rest of the series, I've heard enough people say that Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne was the peak of the trilogy to make me look forward to finally playing it.

At first, I found it somewhat difficult to compare this game to its predecessor due to how similar they are, but Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne got just enough right for me to consider it to be the better of the two games. On top of the gunplay and heroic-bloodshed-inspired bullet-time mechanics feeling just that much better and tighter, I thought that the levels were much more consistent in their design, as the first game's sudden difficulty spike towards the end was swapped out in favor of having each chapter get gradually more difficult while still feeling fair. The levels were also much more varied here in Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne, with the levels allowing you to play as Mona Sax being especially fun thanks to their tense sniper sequences. Although this didn't have the snowed-in atmosphere of the first game, I still thought that the presentation in Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne improved on what was accomplished in the original game, as the more detailed character models, comic panel cutscenes, pitch-perfect voice acting, and violin-heavy score complimented the grimy, run-down apartment buildings and decrepit funhouses that the game's shootouts take place in.

In terms of gameplay, Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne improved on what the first game already did so well while still retaining that game's general feel, but I wasn't expecting it to also surpass the original game in terms of storytelling. Rather than diving into a national conspiracy, Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne focused more on Max's relationship with Mona Sax while still having its fair share of twists, betrayals, and battles against Payne's own inner demons, and this character-focused approach made the plot feel much more engrossing to me while still lining up with the first game's mood of hard-boiled film noir. Max Payne was an already dark game, but the tone here was even more bleak and cynical, as Max is constantly pushed to his mental and physical limits over the course of the story. Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne was a terrific follow-up to an already amazing game, and despite how it will be quite a while before I end up playing through Max Payne 3, that doesn't change just how excited I am to try it out.

Although I have seen people talk about the Sega Genesis in terms of its intense competition against the Super Nintendo during the 90s, I rarely saw anyone bring up its actual games. Sure, the original Sonic the Hedgehog games were (and still are) some of the most wildly popular games of that era, and the console also found some popularity with the beat-'em-up crowd with the Streets of Rage series, but whenever I would try to think of must-have exclusives for the Sega Genesis, no other games would come to mind. When I found out about Gunstar Heroes, though, it looked interesting enough for me to want to give it a shot, and I'm glad that I did, because this game honestly surprised me with how good it was.

On the surface, the run-&-gun gameplay of Gunstar Heroes seems simple, but it did quite a lot to make the core gameplay loop feel more deep and rewarding to get a grasp of. For starters, I really liked how the game incorporated its four shot types, as they not only each had their own strengths and weaknesses, but the ability to combine them meant that I was constantly experimenting to see what strategies worked and felt the best. The action in Gunstar Heroes is fast-paced and chaotic, as every moment of each level is spent shooting or dodging enemies that continuously appear on screen, and using the movement abilities and melee attacks made the combat feel even more frantic and engaging. Despite how this game is only made up of seven levels, each one feels distinct and brimming with new ideas, as Gunstar Heroes constantly changes up level structure, control schemes, and boss encounters in ways that feel well thought out and exciting rather than gimmicky. I'd also say that Gunstar Heroes is one of the most visually impressive games of the fourth console generation, as it not only had some excellent sprite work and a vibrant color palette, but the more visually complex boss battles such as Seven Force and the Core Guard System were very impressive to look at while also having a unique sense of depth.

Generally, I had a great time with Gunstar Heroes, but I did have some gripes with it, and most of these had to do with the game's difficulty. For the most part, Gunstar Heroes is a challenging, but reasonable run-&-gun game, but its random difficulty spikes soured my mood at times, as dealing with seven phase boss fights or occasional bullet hell moments felt more like pure frustration rather than a fair challenge. This issue worsens the game's already inconsistent checkpoint system, with some of the harder levels not having them at all. Although I did praise the game's commitment to constantly switching up its level design, the weapon controls for the spaceship in the level "Empire's Space Craft" were very finicky, and it was especially annoying to try and dodge enemy fire and meteorites when I couldn't even aim my vehicle's weapon in the direction that I wanted it to. These issues felt minor in comparison to what Gunstar Heroes did well, though, and I not only really enjoyed this game, but it also made me excited to check out what is arguably Treasure's most famous game, Ikaruga.

Along with Resident Evil, Silent Hill is a franchise that is synonymous with the survival horror genre, and while I still haven't played the first Silent Hill game, I always knew that I wanted to get into the series with Silent Hill 2. Not only is this game the fan favorite, but it has also maintained this legacy as one of the greatest video games ever made more than two decades after its release, and that made me curious to see what the excitement was all about. Initially, I thought that I was going to play Silent Hill 2 through the Inner Fears re-release for the Xbox using backwards compatibility on the Xbox 360, but I ended up playing the original PS2 version instead, and it meant that I got to experience this phenomenal game much sooner than I thought I would. For me, Silent Hill 2 achieved everything that it had set out to accomplish masterfully, and that resulted in a game that was scary, melancholic, uncomfortable, beautiful, dreamy, and nightmarish all at the same time.

Despite how often I've heard people continuously say great things about this game's story over the years, I didn't hear much about its actual gameplay, and so I'm glad that I was able to enjoy it as much as I did. Although other horror games like Deadly Premonition and Resident Evil 4 did benefit from focusing on action, Silent Hill 2 was a lot more effective in actually scaring me, as fighting the game's grotesque and unnerving monsters with limited ammo and slow melee weapons did a great job of evoking a feeling of powerlessness. The combat and puzzles were already good on their own, but what made them so much more engaging for me would be the game's inherently creepy atmosphere, as the foggy exteriors and grungy, dirty interiors combined with the brilliantly oppressive sound mixing, claustrophobic fixed camera angles, and intentionally stilted dialogue gave even the most basic activities a sense of unease that I've never felt while playing any other game. The music in Silent Hill 2 is flawless, as Akira Yamaoka's eclectic score manages to be perfectly evocative in whatever context it's used in while still having a generally haunting feel.

Like I've mentioned earlier, Silent Hill 2 is famous for its storytelling, but even with that in mind, this game's narrative still managed to blow me away. Silent Hill 2 takes full advantage of its survival horror gameplay in order to strengthen the impact of its story, as the more psychological and even outright surreal elements felt naturally integrated into the main plot of James Sunderland reckoning with the death of his wife. A lot of horror media deals with grief, especially nowadays, but the way that Silent Hill 2 handled these themes made them feel unique and honest, along with how the game explores how guilt, abuse, and love affect both James and the various people he meets during his stay in Silent Hill. The story is as disturbing as it is tragic, and on top of having a spectacular ending, it also features one of the most heartbreaking pieces of ending narration that I have ever heard. Silent Hill 2 is a horror game that can not only go toe-to-toe with many of the horror movies I've seen, but also a good amount of media in general, as it is very easily one of the best pieces of art I have ever experienced, video game or otherwise.

Although the original Star Fox was innovative for its time and definitely impressive as an SNES game, it was the reboot for the Nintendo 64 that cemented the series as one of Nintendo's most recognizable franchises (along with Fox and Falco being consistently high tier characters in the Super Smash Bros. games). I played the first game ages ago, and while I was impressed with just how far it pushed the hardware of the SNES to its limits, it wasn't something that I actually had very much fun with, and so I'm glad to say that its follow-up was a massive improvement. Star Fox 64 is a solid example of a game doing a lot without overstaying its welcome, because while a playthrough only lasts for about one or two hours, it's also very straightforward and consistently fun.

Star Fox 64 does quite a lot right, but I think that the best place to start would be its gameplay. Every frame of every mission here is smattered with things to shoot at, dodge, or collect, and on top of the shooting feeling great, the Arwing feels good to control thanks to its different maneuvers and its consistent sense of speed. The inclusion of other vehicles, such as the Landmaster, was also fun, but I generally thought that the Arwing levels were way better. Generally speaking, the levels in Star Fox 64 can be put into two categories, as the game either consists of on-rails segments or more open-ended "All-Range" areas, and while I did prefer the former type for being less overwhelming with the amount of stuff on screen, the latter levels were still fun to play. Star Fox 64 also features some solid boss fights, as they all evoked a sense of scale that made these battles feel more grand and intense.

When it comes to the game's writing, Star Fox 64 gets the job done, because while the plot is serviceable and not much else, I still enjoyed what this game accomplished in this regard. The four members of the Star Fox team were all likable in their own ways (although Slippy did get on my nerves sometimes with how often enemies got on his tail), and their campy dialogue was made more charming thanks to the solid voice acting and puppet-like animation. Star Fox 64 also features some great music, and I especially liked what played during the boss fights. I can see myself playing Star Fox 64 more often in the future due to its branching paths, but as it stands, I still thought that it was a pretty good game, although I don't entirely understand what made it be seen as one of Nintendo's best games.

SUDA51 is another one of those video game auteurs whose body of work looked really interesting to me, but aside from playing the first level of No More Heroes years ago before losing access to both my Wii and the game, I haven't been able to really get into any of his games. Much to my surprise, though, I managed to get access to Killer7, and while it only took a little over a week for me to beat it, I always looked forward to jumping back into the game and playing through it. Killer7 was a game that I knew was going to become my newest obsession long before it was over, and now that I've finished it, I can see myself thinking about it even more often than I already do.

Whenever people talk about Killer7, one of the very first things that gets brought up is its presentation, and for good reason. Pretty much every element of this game is unconventional in some way, but the cel-shaded artstyle, striking colors, energetic and stylistically varied cutscenes, and the superbly eclectic music by Masafumi Takada and Jun Fukuda made all of its different methods of experimentation come together naturally and beautifully. Killer7 features a stripped-down, minimalistic control scheme and on-rails-esque gunplay, and while it took me a bit of time to get used to how this game worked, I honestly loved how Killer7 felt to play. Not only did the combat itself feel great, but I also found myself switching between the titular assassins quite often, as they all had their uses while still being fun to toy around with on their own. Along with shooting Heaven Smiles and battling some really creative bosses, playing Killer7 also consists of exploring each area in order to solve puzzles and gain a better understanding of the game's world and characters, and this other half of the gameplay in Killer7 also really worked for me thanks to how it made exploration feel rewarding.

On top of having some terrific gameplay and an intoxicatingly chaotic style, Killer7 also features a fascinating, thought-provoking and thematically rich story about terrorism, violence, and Japan's role in American politics whose breadth of details and intentional obfuscation added to the game's neo-noir mood and over-the-top tone. Granted, I didn't grasp absolutely everything about it during this playthrough due to just how complex it was, but I still loved how the plot blended an international conspiracy with elements of surrealism, and piecing details together through details that I picked up on from the cryptic dialogue featured in both the cutscenes and the characters in each level made the experience of trying to understand the full picture feel that much more engrossing. Not only was Killer7 one of the best games I've ever played, but it was also one of the most wholly unique and idiosyncratic games I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing, and I don't think that the game industry will ever see anything like it ever again.

Truth be told, I had never actually heard of Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective before, but when I noticed its exceptionally high average rating on Backloggd, I decided to eventually give it a go. That was roughly a year ago, and despite how I've only just beaten the game a few minutes ago, that doesn't mean that I wasn't constantly thinking about how good it was all this time. Right from the very first frame, Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective had me hooked, and I knew that I was playing something special long before I even reached the halfway mark. Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective is one of those games where I can barely put my love for it into words, as it accomplishes everything that it sets out to do with flying colors and does it all in such a charming, unique and lovable way.

Above all else, Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective is a combination of a visual novel and a puzzle game, and not only was I surprised by just how well this combination ended up working, but also how each of these two main elements of the game were executed perfectly. The gameplay consists of possessing and manipulating objects in order to save people's lives, access new areas, and just generally progress the narrative, and I thought that these mechanics were awesome. On top of being a brilliant use of the touchscreen on the Nintendo DS, the actual puzzles are all incredibly well-designed, and the amount of satisfaction that came from their "Aha!" moments made me feel like an absolute genius for solving them each and every time. Along with the fun gameplay and terrific puzzles, Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective features a gripping and superbly written storyline. Every single member of the game's cast is linked together in some way, and it helps that the characters were all incredibly likable and loaded with eccentricities. What starts out as a quest to find out more about the protagonist's past turns into a sprawling mystery filled with jaw-dropping twists, but despite just how many directions the game's story went in, all of its many plot points came together brilliantly, and the game's lighthearted sense of humor had me laughing the whole way through while still knowing when to be serious in order to have its emotional moments be as impactful as possible.

Although the mystery plot and the puzzle gameplay were the two core elements of what made Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective work so well for me, that doesn't mean that they were all that it had to offer. Like everything else on display here, the presentation of Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective oozes with personality, as both the music and the visuals were terrific in their own ways. This game has some excellent art direction, as the distinct character designs meshed really well with their lively in-game animations. Masakazu Sugimori's music here was also incredible, as pretty much every song is catchy and funky while still perfectly matching their context within the story and the puzzles. I loved absolutely everything about Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective, and I'm really glad that it's getting a multi-platform remaster this June, as it means that more people will get to experience this wonderful game.