After spending the past year and a half or so playing Hotline Miami constantly, getting the secret ending and an A+ on every level, and being only three trophies away from getting the platinum trophy, I was more than ready to dive into Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number, and so I was really glad to see the game for sale for $3.74 on the PlayStation Store. Despite how this game plays exactly the same as the previous one with its tight controls and brutal combat, my experience with Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number was a predominantly negative one, but that doesn't mean that the game didn't get at least a few things right. For starters, the first game's striking visual style is also present in Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number, but the game's visuals also drew inspiration from the look and feel of VHS tapes rather than just a general synthwave aesthetic, and this added to the game's off-kilter atmosphere while still matching the game's time period. The soundtrack here was also great, and while none of the songs reached the blood-pumping heights of the first game for me, the music was still solid all around.

Among other things, one aspect of Hotline Miami that I really loved would be how its levels accommodated for a multitude of different approaches and playstyles thanks to the wide arsenal of weapons and unlockable masks, and so I was shocked to see this element get messed up so badly here in Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number. Many of my deaths in this game came from enemies that were literally off-screen and were able to kill me instantly without giving me a chance to react, and this applies to practically every level in the game. The level design in Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number forgoes the encouragement of experimentation from the first game in favor of cheap deaths and a trial-&-error loop of killing enemies in the exact same order over and over again before being sniped out of nowhere. The only viable strategy here is to lure enemies out and then killing them around a corner, and this not only makes a lot of the mechanics introduced in the new game feel obsolete in the presence of the significantly worse level design, butthe gameplay loop also got really tiresome due to every every encounter requiring the exact same approach. Even when the game tries to introduce new playstyles with characters such as the Fans or the Soldier, the gameplay still consists of poking your head out of a doorway to bait enemies into coming towards you before being randomly killed anyway, and while the first game was definitely challenging, none of its levels were anywhere near as obnoxiously difficult as Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number was for me.

Although its plot wasn't really the main focus, I still really liked what the storytelling accomplished in Hotline Miami, as its themes of violence in media, nationalism, and Cold War paranoia made the already compelling story feel more meaty, and so I was disappointed to see this aspect of the game also get poorly handled here in Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number. Although this game a much stronger focus on plot than its predecessor, that doesn't mean that it had a better story than the first game, as its loosely connected characters and constant jumps in time made the game's story feel jumbled and clunky. In terms of themes, Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number didn't say anything that wasn't already expressed in the first game, except there was an increase in scenes that had no other purpose than "shock" the audience. The attempts at surrealism were also much less well-integrated than they were in Hotline Miami, although the epilogue was at least somewhat interesting (even with that lame cop-out of an ending). Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number was a massive disappointment for me, and while its existence doesn't take away from my love for the original Hotline Miami, it does make me wonder why anyone would prefer the sequel over the first game.

Long before I actually played any of the Halo games, I would find myself constantly rewatching the "Believe" ad for Halo 3, and for good reason. Not only is it simple in its concept, yet wholly melancholic and beautiful in its execution, but it's also arguably the very best video game commercial ever made (next to the security camera teasers for Kane & Lynch 2: Dog Days). My appreciation for this commercial on its own has always been high, but rewatching it after beating the first two Halo games made it even more impactful, and now that I've beaten the game, I'd also say that this was the perfect tonal setup for Halo 3. Although I really enjoyed my time with both Halo: Combat Evolved and Halo 2, I was still blown away by how much I loved Halo 3, as it took everything that worked in those games and refined them to perfection.

In both of the first two games, a lot of time is spent telling the audience about the fact that Earth is at war with the Covenant, but Halo 3 was the first time in the series that I genuinely felt it. Not only were the painting-like backgrounds littered with dogfights, but the sprawling, open-ended battles that the Halo games are known for felt much larger in terms of scale and also appeared more frequently, which made for several moments in the game that literally left me awestruck. The gunplay here was at its absolute best, as every single weapon in the game felt great to use, including the many new ones, and having dual wielding return was also great to see. The same can be said about the game's vehicles, but I was also surprised by just how many new vehicles were added to the game, as well as how varied they were in their handling and uses. On top of improving what worked in Halo: Combat Evolved and Halo 2, Halo 3 also included two-handed support weapons and a new gear type called equipment, and I thought that these were both welcome additions to the formula thanks to how they made combat encounters feel even more dynamic than they already were. Putting my minor gripes with the first two games aside, my least favorite aspect of both Halo: Combat Evolved and Halo 2 would easily be the Flood, and even this aspect was improved by a ton here in Halo 3. Not only was their presence reduced by a lot while still having them feel significant to the plot, but their new enemy types made fighting them feel much more fresh than it did in the first two games, along with how the levels that centered around them were all incredibly atmospheric in their art direction and sound mixing.

For me, the heart and soul of all three of these games has always been the gorgeous, otherworldly music by Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori, and their work here in Halo 3 was the best in the series, as it was what made both the in-game setpieces and the cinematic storytelling feel so exciting and riveting. As a character, I liked Master Chief's deliberate facelessness and lack of any real past, but Halo 3 made an interesting move by making his relationship with Cortana play a larger role in the story, and this choice made me a lot more invested in this game's plot while still keeping just enough about Master Chief in the dark in order to have him stay as an effective player insert. This also applied to the rest of the game's cast, as the general sense of loss and finality surrounding the plot made me genuinely care about all of these characters, with the Arbiter being way more compelling here than he was in the previous game. My only regret with both this game and the whole trilogy was my inability to check out the multiplayer modes, as much of this franchise's identity rests on the experiences shared by people through online matches and co-op campaign runs, and since the servers got shut down years ago, I'll never be able to experience that. Even then, I still thought that Halo 3 was not only the best game in the series, but also one of the best first-person shooters I've ever played, and while I'm really not interested in checking out the games in the series made by 343 Industries (Halo 4 and onwards), I might give Halo 3: ODST and Halo: Reach a go in the near future.

When looking at it from afar, the jump from Halo: Combat Evolved to Halo 2 doesn't seem as big as, say, the jump from Metal Gear Solid to Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty, but the changes that this game made to the foundation that was set by its predecessor were enough to make this feel like more than just a simple expansion or reskin of the first game. Right from the very start, Halo 2 tries to establish how much more interested it is in storytelling this time around, as its cast of characters is wider, the plot's scope is bigger, and its cutscenes are especially more cinematic. Not only did these choices make the story much more engaging than that of Halo: Combat Evolved, but it also amped up the game's Hollywood-grade blockbuster feel. Halo 2 also features much better voice acting than its predecessor, because while the actors got the job done in the first game and it was fun to hear returning voices from actors like Steven Downes and Jen Taylor, I really enjoyed the performances given by the actors playing the new characters like Ron Perlman, Kevin Michael Richardson, and especially the great Keith David.

Halo 2 made a lot of changes to the original formula of Halo: Combat Evolved, and while not all of these worked for me, I still liked a lot of what this game brought to the table. The biggest and most obvious change to the gameplay would be the addition of dual wielding, and I liked this feature a lot. The first game already had a layer of strategy to it by giving each weapon a specific purpose when it came to dealing with the Covenant or the Flood and only allowing you to carry two guns at once, but allowing you to wield two weapons at once allowed for a lot more experimentation with ways to approach each encounter. Even with this great feature, though, the game's actual weapons were a bit of a mixed back for me. While many of the new weapons, like the Beam Rifle or the Brute Plasma Rifle, were fun to use, many of the returning weapons were modified to feel way worse than they used to. The worst examples of this would be what was done to the Magnum pistol and the Assault Rifle, as the former was made to be much weaker and less satisfying, while the latter being replaced with the burst-shooting Battle Rifle made it practically useless. Like the first game, the best parts of Halo 2 would be the sprawling battle sequences involving vehicles, and it's good that they were even better here than they were in Halo: Combat Evolved. Not only were there more vehicles and more opportunities to use them, but they also had multiple abilities, which made using them in combat feel more dynamic. Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori gave yet another fantastic score here, and their uses of ambient music in the quieter moments and even some triumphant electric guitars during some of the battle sequences made those moments more effective.

When talking about Halo: Combat Evolved, the only mission that I can say I truly disliked would be "The Library", and while none of the missions in Halo 2 matched the tedium of that mission, the level design still felt a lot less consistent than that of the first game. Some of the levels in Halo 2 make you play as an Elite soldier named the Arbiter, and I don't know how Bungie did it, but they managed to make nearly every mission involving him way less fun to play than the ones where you played as Master Chief. Many of the sections in the Arbiter missions involved staying still on one platform while waves of enemies came at you, and if that wasn't boring enough, even his vehicle sections weren't as fun as the ones in the rest of the game due to their linearity. On top of that, most of the Arbiter missions involved you having to fight the Flood, and these enemies were easily my least favorite part of both of these games. Not only did it not make sense for the Flood to even be here due to how Halo: Combat Evolved ended, but they also have the ability to destroy your vehicle in seconds, which made an already unfun enemy type even more annoying to deal with. Despite all of these problems, though, Halo 2 was still a pretty good follow-up to the first game, and because of its infamous cliffhanger ending (although Master Chief's last line is really cool), I'm really curious to see where the series goes next with Halo 3.

The original Halo trilogy is one that holds a special place in the hearts of many people thanks to their memories of split-screen co-op and multiplayer, but despite how iconic the franchise is, I only really remember playing one of the games at a friend's house once. Because of this, I've really been wanting to play the first three Halo games, and so I was glad to find all three of them last week. For a game whose 22nd anniversary is coming up this year, Halo: Combat Evolved managed to feel just as grand in its sense of scale and scope as it probably did back in 2001, and while I did have my fair share of issues with it, I still had a great time with it.

What's interesting about Halo: Combat Evolved is that, although it's a space opera with its own alien species and history of conflicts, the game spends no time explaining who's fighting what and instead throws you straight into the action. Normally, something like this would be an issue, and while it was definitely jarring to just start fighting the Covenant without really knowing who they were or why they wanted Earth destroyed, I didn't actually mind this approach. Storytelling isn't that big of a focus here, because while the plot is definitely serviceable (albeit not all that great), the real star of the show here is everything surrounding it. In terms of gameplay, the best parts of Halo: Combat Evolved would easily be its big, sprawling battle sequences, as not only did the guns feel great thanks to the solid controls, but the game's different vehicles were all a blast to use and gave me a lot of options when taking down Covenant forces. Many of the game's levels blend these amazing outdoor sequences with linear corridors, and while this combo did work for me in terms of making these levels more balanced and varied, the initial contrast between the entirely straightforward first level and the entirely open-ended second level was nothing short of breathtaking.

I played Halo: Combat Evolved using the ten-year anniversary remaster so that I could play the game in 16:9 widescreen, and despite the efforts made by 343 Industries with their new take on the game's visuals, I had no reason to turn these new graphics on. Not only did the original visuals have much more charm and also matched the stiff animations much more than 343's new coat of paint did, but they were also designed with visual clarity in mind. Whether you were fighting the Covenant, the Flood, or 343 Guilty Spark, every enemy in the game was supposed to stick out from the environments through their distinct designs and color-coding, and since 343 Industries apparently missed out on that memo, I kept the superior original graphics on throughout my entire playthrough. As great as the gameplay was, the real heart and soul of Halo: Combat Evolved for me came from the gorgeous score by Martin O'Donnell and Michael Salvatori, as their uses of Gregorian chants fit the game's ambitious, grandiose feel while also giving its world a great sense of mystery. The first half of Halo: Combat Evolved was consistently terrific, but I felt that the levels took a bit of a dive in quality with the introduction of the Flood, as having them infinitely spawn as you gunned them down made them much less interesting to fight than the Covenant. This especially applies to the game's seventh level, "The Library", which was so unbelievably boring in its tedium that it was the only level in the game that I straight up didn't like. That second half was still full of great moments, though, and the ending setpiece was an especially fun and exhilarating note to end on. Despite its flaws, Halo: Combat Evolved was still a great game in my eyes, and I'm pretty excited to check out the other two games in the original trilogy soon.

One of the first games that I was given for my PlayStation 4 was a physical copy of Infamous: Second Son, but because my console's disc drive got clogged up with dust at one point, I wasn't able to play it (or any other physical PS4 game, for that matter) for years. Now that I finally got that fixed, I started playing through this game shortly after beating Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, and while I wouldn't consider this to be a terrible game, I wouldn't exactly say that I liked it. Infamous: Second Son is one of the most aggressively milquetoast games I've ever played, as almost everything about it feels designed to be just competent enough to keep the player from switching the game off without actually being all that noteworthy. The generic visual style and music really didn't help with this, as it just made the game generally feel much more bland and flavorless. Like a lot of these kinds of games, Infamous: Second Son focuses on the player having to fight yet another force of tyranny, and every plot point and character relationship within that journey is as predictable as they can be. None of the characters were very interesting, but my least favorite was easily the protagonist, because on top of the obviously bad idea of making him be part of a fictional Native American tribe, Delsin Rowe was also just annoying, as his constant quips and one-liners consistently got on my nerves.

Aside from the main missions, Infamous: Second Son has five or six side quests that are copied and pasted across the entire map, and while they were initially fun to complete, these missions got very old very quickly, and every moment outside of the main story ended up feeling like this Pavlovian cycle of constantly having to fight the same four or five types of D.U.P. soldiers and reduce their presence in a bunch of districts that barely feel any different from each other. One of my least favorite elements of Infamous: Second Son would easily be its dated and binary morality system, as pretty much all of the in-game "choices" boil down to either killing a person or sparing them. On top of the decisions themselves being lame, my choices didn't even have that much of an impact on the story, because despite how I non-lethally subdued nearly every enemy I came across and got to the maximum level of good karma, Delsin and the rest of the one-note supporting cast still talked about him as if he was killing people left and right. Even for the time, this system feels old, and seeing games that came out before and after Infamous: Second Son execute similar systems with much better and more engaging results only adds insult to injury.

Aside from the story, open world, and karma system feeling underwhelming, the actual gameplay of Infamous: Second Son is fairly competent, but I also managed to find some gripes with those as well. Moving around the buildings of Seattle using Delsin's newfound powers honestly felt quite good, and that especially applies to the fast and fluid neon ability. Although the game's combat system is plagued by the same kind of skill tree that we've seen a billion times before, it was still okay and had some weight to it, although some early upgrades that made me able to one-shot or two-shot enemies and gain good karma out of it made every enemy encounter feel incredibly easy from that point forward while also cancelling out the usefulness of my melee attacks. Even if the combat wasn't technically bad, the aforementioned grind of having to constantly clear out enemy camps made playing the game feel like a chore, and that made me less and less eager to keep playing as I went on. Infamous: Second Son isn't the worst game I've played, but its intense mediocrity left me uninvested throughout my playthrough and flat-out bored by the end of it, and I don't really plan on checking out any of the other Infamous games any time soon.

Although I did mention that, in terms of games in the Grand Theft Auto series, I was the most curious about what Grand Theft Auto IV was going to be like, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City was the game in the franchise that I was the most eager to try out, as watching Dunkey's video on it back in middle school and then constantly rewatching it since then made it look like an absolute blast to play. Don't get me wrong, I was definitely looking forward to playing through Grand Theft Auto III for the first time, but Grand Theft Auto: Vice City was the one from the double pack that I was actually excited about, as it looked so much more stylish and cool than its predecessor. It's hard to talk about Grand Theft Auto: Vice City without just gushing about it, because despite its flaws, this is not only leagues better than Grand Theft Auto III, but it's also the best game in the series.

Whenever people mention this game, they always bring up just how strong its atmosphere is, and I'd honestly say that this is the game's greatest strength. Grand Theft Auto: Vice City is a sunshine-soaked time capsule of the 1980s in all its coked-up, hedonistic glory, and despite the dated (although charmingly janky) graphics, the pastel color palette and neon-drenched streets made this game an absolute joy to look at. Not only is it fun to wreak havoc and mess around in this sandbox, but simply driving around in a sports car and listening to the game's incredible soundtrack while taking the vistas in is fun in its own right, and the less restrictive design of the open world here made me want to explore every nook and cranny much more than Grand Theft Auto III did, which also applies to the returning minigames and collectibles. Speaking of which, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City has one of the best soundtracks in any video game, as they managed to get tons of emblematic 80s songs into one great package. On top of being an immensely atmospheric experience, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City is also a lot of fun to play, as it fixed a lot of its predecessor's shortcomings while also building on top of what it did well. While the targeting system still isn't the best, it's still much better than the horrendous aiming from Grand Theft Auto III, and the wider selection of weapons also makes up for that. Not only are the cars in this game actually durable, but there's also a much higher presence of sports cars here than in any other game in the franchise, which fits the setting perfectly while also making getting from point A to point B less of a hassle.

Among other things, the writing here is also much better than in Grand Theft Auto III, as it not only features an immensely entertaining and likable protagonist in the form of the short-tempered Tommy Vercetti played by the late, great Ray Liotta, but the characters that he interacts with throughout the Scarface-inspired plot are much more memorable. Unlike the last game, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City also gives you an actual reason to spend your money, as Tommy Vercetti has to buy several assets and businesses to build his criminal empire. Like the last game, the missions in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City are much less restrictive in their design, but the inclusion of vehicles like helicopters and seaplanes opened up tons of possibilities in terms of approaching objectives, and that led to a lot of eureka moments during my playthrough that made me feel like a genius whenever they went well. Despite how awesome of a game this was for me, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City isn't perfect, as it features a handful of missions that are unnecessarily frustrating. This especially applies to the game's final mission, because while it only took me about an hour to actually beat it, the tedium of having to repeat everything over and over again made the whole process feel way longer. Even with this in mind, I'm able to look past all of that and appreciate just how incredible of an experience Grand Theft Auto: Vice City was for me and how fun it was to play, and not only is it my favorite Grand Theft Auto game, but it's also one of the best games that Rockstar has ever made.

After beating Grand Theft Auto IV, I was wondering if I'd be able to play the first two games in the original 3D trilogy without having to buy a PS2 or something like that, because I really didn't want to end up buying the disaster of a "definitive" collection that was released back in 2021. Because of this, you could imagine my surprise when I found a double pack of Grand Theft Auto III and Grand Theft Auto: Vice City for the original Xbox at a CeX four weeks ago, as I realized that I could play both games on my Xbox 360 as soon as I took the pack off the shelf. Grand Theft Auto III is one of those games where people talk more about how innovative it was at the time of its release than they do about the game itself, because despite my fun with it, Grand Theft Auto III doesn't hold a candle to the rest of the games in the series.

If you look up any sort of retrospective review of Grand Theft Auto III, you're guaranteed to see the writer mention how "revolutionary" this game was for letting you explore Liberty City at your own pace and do whatever you wanted, but even that aspect of Grand Theft Auto III isn't perfect. Yes, going on rampages and messing around will always be fun, but there's almost nothing to do in the open world outside of that, because while the open world is very impressive for the time with how lively it feels, you're never given any real reason to explore each of the game's three islands as you unlock them, aside from ticking the game's 100% completion checklist by completing identical taxi and vigilante missions or finding some asinine collectibles. You don't even have any real reason to spend the money you earn throughout the game, as all you can really buy is more ammunition, which is already cancelled out by the game's cheat codes. Exploring the grungy, foggy streets of Liberty City while listening to the game's great soundtrack can be fun, but Grand Theft Auto III might be the only game in the series where people will just randomly gun you down for no reason, so it's almost like the game discourages you from trying to take the scenery in. This game pretty much entirely consists of either driving or shooting, and both of these elements are annoying to deal with in their own ways. While the actual driving feels fast and responsive, the fragility of all the game's cars make it so that bumping into even one thing makes your vehicle spin out of control and get very close to exploding, and it doesn't help that playing this specific version of the game makes it so that the frame rate slows down dramatically every time I drive. The shooting in Grand Theft Auto III is downright atrocious, as the targeting system is a far cry from the one used in Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and the guns themselves are barely even that effective. Not only that, but the only guns that let you aim freely are either incredibly situational (such as the sniper rifle and the rocket launcher) or they make you stop moving entirely, so I ended up trying to avoid using my guns as much as I could during the game's missions.

One of the weirdest elements of Grand Theft Auto III would be the complete lack of an in-game map. All you're given is a tiny, inaccurate mini-map on the screen's bottom left corner, so you end up having to just remember where everything is, and that also applies to the Pay 'n' Sprays and 8-Ball's bomb garages. Most of my time with Grand Theft Auto III was spent going through the main story, and my thoughts on it are complicated, to say the least. Despite the entirely forgettable writing, the lack of linearity in many of the game's missions allowed for me to complete them in ways that I came up with rather than what the game told me to do, and it was especially fun to do this with the inclusion of cheat codes. This player freedom doesn't apply to all of the missions, though, as a lot of them are arguably some of the hardest and most frustrating levels in the entire series. The most difficult missions often involve timers, which means that you need to have a fast car in order to even stand a chance, but the low draw distance often led to me crashing into cars that I couldn't even see, which led to me having to load previous saves and do the missions from the very beginning. Despite how innovative it was back in 2001 and the merits that I managed to find with it, Grand Theft Auto III is chock full of shortcomings and is easily my least favorite game in the series so far, and I really have no desire to go back to it.

Aside from the first two games, Grand Theft Auto IV has always been the black sheep of the series' main entries, as its shift towards realism ended up turning off fans of the PS2 trilogy's wacky, hyper-satirical sandboxes. Even with the amount of jokes about this game's driving physics and bowling-addicted cousins that I've heard over the years, I was still more curious about finding this game and playing it than any other game in the franchise, and since Rockstar decided to make it much harder to play the original versions of the first two PS2 games, Grand Theft Auto IV ended up being the only one of the older Grand Theft Auto games that I can actually play. Because of how many differing opinions I've heard about this game, I went into Grand Theft Auto IV hoping I'd at least like it, but I didn't expect for it to turn out to be my favorite game in the franchise by far, as it fixed some issues that I had with the other Grand Theft Auto games I've played while also carving out its own identity.

Rockstar has always been known for making open worlds that feel alive, but even with that in mind, I was still incredibly impressed with what they had accomplished here in Grand Theft Auto IV. The oppressively grey palette, dirty streets, and grungy textures greatly added to the grit of Liberty City and Alderney, and this more cutthroat setting also strengthened the game's dark and wholly engrossing story. Rather than being chock-full of explosive setpieces like in Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and Grand Theft Auto V, Grand Theft Auto IV instead has you battling it out in abandoned construction sites, underfunded apartment complexes, and sleazy strip clubs, and the traditionally eccentric and fun supporting cast was also replaced with seedy drug pushers, corrupt cops, and paranoid mafiosos. Normally, I'd be upset if a game's missions weren't as varied as its predecessor, but because everything was recontextualized through Niko Bellic's perspective as an undocumented immigrant, it all made sense within the context of the story. Not only that, but the smaller scale of the missions also made them more fun due to their decreased linearity and increased ways of getting in and on top of buildings, as coming up with ways to complete objectives on my own rather than relying on the game's exact instructions led to some really memorable and satisfying moments for me. I'd also say that the gunplay here is the best in the series, especially with how your limited arsenal was integrated into the world through the presence of underground weapons dealers, and the constant need to be alert while firing at enemies and the incredibly impressive ragdoll physics made for combat that was much more exciting than just hiding behind one spot of cover like in Grand Theft Auto V.

Along with the fun missions and immersive setting, a big reason why the game's story was so enthralling for me would be its protagonist. Not only was Niko Bellic's cynicism and cold-heartedness brought to life thanks to Michael Hollick's voice acting, but seeing how his past haunts him as he struggles to see any real future for himself outside of violence was very compelling, especially with the story's numerous player choices, and it made the game's plot evolve from being a critique of the American Dream into a look at the psychology of revenge, the effects of war, and the endless cycles of violence. Like I mentioned earlier, Grand Theft Auto IV has gotten a lot of flack for its driving mechanics and hangout sessions with the other characters, but I honestly really liked both of these features. The more realistic handling of the cars and bikes fit perfectly alongside the game's tone and world while still making for some intense getaways and chases, and spending time with the supporting cast made the story and the rest of the game feel more interconnected. Although Red Dead Redemption II is still my favorite Rockstar game, Grand Theft Auto IV isn't far behind, and I really hope that I can eventually find a way to play Grand Theft Auto III and Grand Theft Auto: Vice City without having to buy the so-called "definitive" edition that came out back in 2021.

Hideo Kojima's Metal Gear saga has been one of my very favorite video game franchises for over five years, but because of Konami's abandonment of the series, it's been tough to actually play all of its games. The only console that has access to all of the main games in the series is the PS3, but I never had one, so I just assumed that I wouldn't be able to play Metal Gear Solid or Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots until I got my hands on a used one, but since my sister got a PlayStation Classic while I was in York for my first term at university, I was finally able to play through this game for the first time. For a PS1 game, Metal Gear Solid really impressed me from a technical standpoint, as the atmospheric sound design and detailed visuals really brought the snowy exteriors and mechanical interiors of Shadow Moses Island to life. The terrific and distinctive voice acting was especially great, as they strengthened the already excellent dialogue and character writing, with David Hayter giving one of the most iconic video game performances ever as Solid Snake.

For me, enjoying the Metal Gear franchise means appreciating both the gameplay and the story equally, and while I still haven't played the MSX games that came out before this, I was still glad to see that the blend worked so well this early on in the series. The plot of Metal Gear Solid is pretty much flawless, as its compelling atmosphere of hi-tech espionage amplified the impact of each twist and narrative beat, as well as the game's themes regarding the effects of war, the search for purpose, and the human condition. Snake's arc of trying to find out who, what, and why he keeps fighting while also reckoning with his own existence as a killing machine was incredibly enthralling, and it also blended really well with the game's commentary on how its player mindlessly followed its orders. On top of being incredibly well written, Metal Gear Solid is also very fun to play. While the game's stealth mechanics are fairly simple, evading Genome Soldiers was still exciting and adrenaline-inducing, and the game was also chock-full of challenging, yet creative and satisfying boss fights.

Metal Gear Solid was a great game that had an especially well-told story, but that doesn't mean that it was flawless. Although the first half of the game struck a good balance between stealth sections and action sequences, the second half of Metal Gear Solid was almost entirely dedicated to boss fights, and I really wished that there was some breathing room in between them rather than constant action. Generally, I didn't mind the game's controls when it came to sneaking around enemies or fighting a boss, but during scenes such as the stairway chase and the elevator fights, the clunkiness and imprecision really began to show, and that was made even worse due to the PlayStation Classic's delayed button inputs and shoddy emulation. Neither of these aspects of the game compare to the game's tedious backtracking, as you constantly have to go back and forth between areas you've already went through, even when you aren't dealing with temperature-changing PAL keys or a missing sniper rifle. I can't really say that I'm able to look past these aspects of the game, but what Metal Gear Solid did right more than made up for its shortcomings, and the result was a great game that is still fun to play 24 years later.

At some point during the earlier months of the pandemic, a good amount of the videos I watched on YouTube were those seconds-long videos of NPCs in The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion doing something weird or funny. I was always interested in checking this game out, but the ridiculousness of those videos (along with how disappointed I was with Skyrim) was what really made me want to give Oblivion a go, so I was really excited to find the Game of the Year edition of the game at York's CeX. After sinking roughly 50 hours into the game for the past month or so, I have developed a lot of thoughts on it, as I really enjoyed my time with Oblivion, but it also had some glaring issues and questionable choices that held my experience back a bit.

What's so interesting about Oblivion to me is that it succeeds really well in ways that Skyrim failed really badly, despite how it came out five years earlier than that game. Not only is the main quest compelling, but the game's varied cities are all full of creative, engaging sidequests and memorable characters, with the questlines being especially rewarding and satisfying. Rather than having you clear out a handful of Draugr ruins and then suddenly giving you an important title like in Skyrim, Oblivion makes you work up the ranks in both the guilds and the Arena, and I really felt like I had earned my titles when I had finished those questlines. Speaking of which, Oblivion puts a lot of emphasis on having you put in the time and effort to earn useful perks and items, with the most obvious example being its weird leveling system. A lot of people have cited this as one of the game's worst aspects, but I honestly kind of liked it, as it allowed me to really carve out my build while also making my perks feel more significant. The melee combat is also much, much better here, as the emphasis on blocking added a layer of strategy to every one-on-one swordfight, even if actually swinging my sword felt weightless.

On its own, Oblivion is definitely fun in terms of gameplay and engaging in terms of story, but what made me really love my time with it was just how charmingly unpolished it was by today's standards. Watching the people of Cyrodiil have stilted, nonsensical conversations about recent events while being voiced by the same five or six people never got old for me, and I especially loved just how ruthless and determined the Imperial City's guards were. My copy of Oblivion wasn't nearly as janky as what I'd seen on YouTube, but people's food and utensils still flew up into the air every time someone sat down, so it still had a bit of that lovable clunkiness to it. Although the graphics of Oblivion don't really look that great in terms of textures and detail, I'd still take the game's vibrant colors over the drab lifelessness of Skyrim any day, even if both games had the same generic, vaguely medieval fantasy overlay.

I had a lot of fun with Oblivion, but the issues that I had noticed with the game at first got bigger as I kept playing the game, and a lot of that has to do with its use of procedural generation. Now, I don't know the exact amount of procedural generation that was used in the game, but a lot of the caves felt really similar in terms of their layouts and enemies, and that also extends to a slew of Oblivion Gate quests that pretty much all felt identical. The choice to use level scaling was one that I really wasn't a fan of, as I didn't feel like my character was getting stronger due to how my enemies were leveling up alongside me. Although the melee combat works really well when you have just one target, I can't say the same when you have to fight multiple enemies at once, as having some other enemy interrupt your attack or take in a hit that you meant for someone else disrupted the flow of combat. This overlaps with the outright horrible staggering mechanic, as being able to get staggered by any enemy made no sense when my Block skill and Endurance level were both at 100. These are all pretty big issues, but Oblivion was so entertaining to play and experience that my gripes with the game pale in comparison to my praises for it, and not only am I excited to eventually play through the game's DLC, but I also want to eventually find a way to play Morrowind as well.

The thing about The Outer Worlds is that it got announced back when I beat Fallout: New Vegas for the first time, and since I loved that game and my appreciation for it has only grown with each subsequent playthrough, my excitement for Obsidian's next action RPG was through the roof. Despite the strength of my anticipation for this game, I never ended up buying it, and I'm not sure if it was because of the game's middling reception scaring me off or something like that, but I was still really excited to play it years later. When I went to the video store last week and picked up DVD copies of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow and Severance, I also came across the Nintendo Switch port of The Outer Worlds, and after noticing how much cheaper this copy of the game was than its price on the PlayStation store, I thought "Why not?" and decided to buy it.

For me, the highlight of Obsidian's games (and, by extension, Black Isle Studios' games) has always been in their writing, and The Outer Worlds is no exception. The Halcyon system and its planets were as interesting to learn about through exchanges and terminal logs as they were to explore, and the hypercorporate space colony setting is populated with a whole slew of interesting, funny, and eccentric characters that you can choose to either befriend, rebuff, kill, or ignore entirely. Speaking of which, the companions that can join you aboard the Unreliable were easily my favorite characters in the game, as helping them reconcile with their mistakes, desires, and views made the team that I had built throughout the game feel like a real found family. Unlike so many other games that let you make good or bad decisions, the choices here in The Outer Worlds have actual moral weight to them, and there were several moments where I felt genuinely bad about doing what I had initially thought was the right thing due to their horrible consequences. The game's relentless and blunt satire on greed, capitalism, consumerism, and bureaucracy is front-&-center in every one of the game's planets, missions, and even items, but it all struck a delicate balance by being entirely unsubtle while also never coming off as annoying or overbearing, and this meant that The Outer Worlds actually benefitted from its in-your-face approach to delivering its themes.

One of my favorite aspects of Fallout: New Vegas would be how your skills and perks were just as important in conversations as they were in combat by giving you the chance to let others trust you or give you what you want, so I was really glad to see that feature make its way to The Outer Worlds, and while I was disappointed to see the exclusion of the intentionally bad dialogue options that would show up if your skill level for that specific choice wasn't high enough, it still made conversations feel really dynamic. The writing was easily my favorite aspect of the game, but the combat here in The Outer Worlds was pretty fun as well, as the varied selection of weapons and multitude of ways to upgrade your arsenal and abilities allowed me to really personalize my playstyle. Despite how much fun I had with The Outer Worlds, though, I will say that I kind of regret going with the Nintendo Switch port rather than just waiting for it to go on sale somewhere else. Don't get me wrong, this game looked and ran pretty well on my Switch, but if you have the option to play it on something else, then I recommend you do so. Even with that in mind, though, I was still able to appreciate The Outer Worlds for the great game that it was, and although I was a little disappointed to see its sequel get announced as an Xbox exclusive, I am a little hopeful that it'll eventually get ported to other systems like some of their other exclusives.

Despite how recently it was released, God of War has not only been considered by many as one of the PlayStation 4's best exclusives, but also one of the best video game rebootquels in recent memory and even one of the best games of the 2010s. Since it beat Red Dead Redemption II for Game of the Year back in 2018, I was curious to see what apparently made this game better than one of my very favorite games of all time, and after beating the game, I'm still wondering that, because God of War felt like a complete chore to play. This game did get one thing right, though, and I'll go over it quickly before getting into why I found the overall experience to be so unfun and derivative. Although practically every new AAA release tries to look and feel "cinematic", God of War did just enough in that aspect for it to feel at least a little fresh, as the use of one continuous take meshed really well with the game's lifelike visuals, rugged art direction, and ancient Scandinavian setting.

For every step that the game's atmosphere takes, the writing, gameplay, and heavy dependence on tired mechanics and systems make the game take a thousand steps back before ensuring that it steps on a giant bear trap. Now, I've only been able to play God of War III due to the unavailability of the first two games on eighth generation consoles, but I still thought that this game's combat was a huge step down from the original trilogy, as Kratos felt clunky to control with how slow his attacks, dodges, and parries were to execute. Fighting several enemies at once made me feel like I was about to have an aneurysm, as the issues of attacks from both you and your spongy enemies suddenly deciding when to land and when to miss are suddenly quadrupled when you have to deal with all of these other similarly annoying enemies, along with how the camera is so close to Kratos at all times that you can't even see more than one enemy on screen. What I especially disliked about the game's enemy encounters was how almost every single boss in God of War was a troll with a giant rock, complete with the exact same attacks and death animations that you have to see over and over again.

The unintuitive and awkward combat of God of War ties in with another one of its bigger issues, as this game felt like a mishmash of every single unoriginal trend that is present in so many modern AAA releases, and the use of those tropes is worsened by how halfhearted their executions were. In addition to the repetitive combat, God of War is plagued with a skill tree and a crafting/upgrade system that we've seen a thousand times before, and the former system doesn't work because almost none of the abilities you unlock for your weapons are nearly as effective as just pressing R1 or R2, while the latter system doesn't work because everyone is going to play this game in the exact same way, which makes the idea of locking the resources needed to craft high-level armor pieces behind a treasure trove of predictable and boring side quests even more puzzling than it already is. Speaking of which, God of War can't decide whether it wants to be an open world game or something more linear, so it decides to combine worse versions of each by filling the game with asinine collectibles and tasks that you literally have no reason to go for, with the only ones that were of any real use being Iðunn's Apples and Horns of Blood Mead.

Pretty much all of the clichés that I had just mentioned were entirely related to the gameplay, but they unfortunately made their way to the story. Not only is God of War yet another story about a grizzled old man and a bratty younger sidekick going on a journey together, but it also features the video game storytelling equivalent to bureaucracy in the form of having the plot constantly grind itself to a halt so that you have to grab some item or talk to some person before having to do those exact things again. As bad and uninspired as all of those aspects of this game were, nothing about God of War got on my nerves nearly as much as its aggravating dialogue and unbearable inclusions of humor, and that especially goes for literally everything that came out of Atreus' mouth. Throughout all 20+ hours of this game, this useless little kid never stops running his mouth, which also means that he tells you the answer to every puzzle before you even get the chance to think, comments on every single thing that happens in the game with some variation of "Well, that happened!", and constantly screams phrases like "FIRE, INCOMING!" and "WATCH OUT!" over and over again in his infuriatingly screechy voice during every single enemy encounter. Atreus is definitely the worst offender when it came to keeping me infuriated throughout the game, but he wasn't the only one to do so, as Mímir did the exact same things while also constantly spouting exposition during boat trips, and Sindri's running gag about his aversion to anything gross or dirty started out annoying before getting more and more anger-inducing as the game went on. Pretty much everything about God of War felt so market-tested, risk-free, tedious, and dull that I wondered what it was that so many people even saw in this game, and since God of War Ragnarök looks like more of the same, I really don't want to play that game at all.

What's weird about Unravel is that it was actually one of the first games that I had gotten for my PS4, as I bought it way back in December of 2016, and yet I never played anything past the first level until now. All I remember about the game was thinking that it looked great and that it felt very pleasant and sweet, but I've been meaning to beat the game since then. My thoughts on this game are admittedly a bit all over the place, but I want to start off with what Unravel does right first.

From a technical standpoint, Unravel is incredible. The photorealistic visuals, detailed sound design, and gorgeous score by Frida Johansson and Henrik Oja do an excellent job of bringing the game's Northern Scandinavian setting to life, as the levels go from being set in the lush woods to frigid snowstorms to even machine-filled factories and industrial areas. Yarny is an adorable protagonist, and having him use his yarn to make bridges, swing from objects, and more is a really interesting idea. The atmosphere in Unravel is heartfelt, charming, and occasionally melancholic, and at the core of it all is a beautifully told and emotional story about love, memories, nostalgia, and how the passage of time affects these things.

As pleasant as this game was in terms of its story and ambience, Unravel did have a number of shortcomings that ultimately dragged the experience down for me. For starters, Yarny himself is really janky to control, as the physics of both him and the objects he interacts with emphasize realism above all else, which makes certain puzzles frustrating in how unresponsive and unreliable the game feels to play. Speaking of which, the "Aha!" moments of many of the game's puzzles never really feel all that satisfying, and that's mostly because their solutions tend to be hidden in some obscure, barely visible place that you'd barely be able to figure out on your own. There were also some really cheap split-second deaths where the game would throw something at you that you can't actually react to without knowing they were there in the first place, and this leads to a lot of tedious trial-&-error gameplay that ends up feeling even worse when combined with the wonky physics. The only two levels that I really enjoyed from start to finish were the first level, "Thistle and Weeds", and the ninth level, "Winter Sun", and I really wish that the rest of the game took cues from those two great levels. Despite those glaring issues, the investment and immersion that I had felt while playing Unravel still made it win me over in the end, and I felt pretty satisfied by the time the credits rolled, even if I'm not all that interested in checking out Unravel Two.

Going into BioShock Infinite, the only thing I really knew about it was how it was very different from the first two games and also much more polarizing. I had a general attitude of "How bad could it be?" when I first booted this game up, and I had no idea that I was going to play a complete mess of a game that falls flat on its face with almost everything it sets out to accomplish. Before I get into all of that, though, I will give credit where credit is due and talk about how great and detailed the setting is. Not only is Columbia gorgeous to look at, but the floating city's steampunk elements mesh pretty well with the 1912 setting. That was the only thing about BioShock Infinite that I actually liked, though, as I found the rest of the game to be dull in terms of gameplay and frustrating in terms of plot.

In BioShock, the player pretty much had to use weapons and plasmids together in order to stand a chance against Rapture's Splicers and Big Daddies, and this was expanded on in BioShock 2 by placing a greater emphasis on mixing and matching genes in order to let the player experiment to see what worked and what didn't. Pretty much all of that was thrown out here in BioShock Infinite, because even with the occasional puddle of water or oil showing up in some of the game’s levels, the best strategy in every encounter is to just shoot the enemies. The guns do feel slightly better than they did in the other two games, but rendering plasmids (or vigors, as this game calls them) useless through the effectiveness of standing in one place and gunning everyone down made the gameplay loop of BioShock Infinite feel easier and more boring as it went along. The only vigor that I got any use out of was Return to Sender, and that was unlocked at the very end of the game, so you might as well never bother to upgrade or even use your vigors up to that point.

On top of the gameplay feeling much less engaging than the first two BioShock games, BioShock Infinite was a complete disaster from a storytelling perspective. The most egregiously stupid point that this game tries to make would be its attempts at making slavery and segregation seem double-sided, and that concept should be self-explanatory in how ignorant and irresponsible it is. Everything that the story tried to do involving timelines and "tears" just ends up making it feel even more bloated and incompetently told than it already was, and that especially includes the moronic ending that essentially exists to make Ken Levine feel really smart. I had zero fun with BioShock Infinite, and I find it really funny how the only real legacy that this game has would be how its fanmade porn apparently caused breakthroughs in 3D animation.

For the longest time, I've wanted to get into the God of War series through the original trilogy, but because Sony is run by morons, I can't actually play any of those games except God of War III. Unless you own a PS2 or a PS3, the only way to play the first two entries in one of PlayStation's most iconic franchises is to get a PS Now account, which isn't even available in my region. Remaking or remastering a game obviously pretty difficult, but they could've at least ported these games over to the PS Store or something instead of letting these games be forgotten by the passage of time (among many, many others). Ranting and frustration aside, I thankfully wasn't confused or lost in the game's plot like I thought I would be, and I also had a lot of fun with God of War III as a whole.

Because this was my introduction to the series, I obviously can't judge how well God of War III connects to the stories of the previous two games, but as a blood-soaked and vengeance-fueled hack-&-slash game, it works really well as a standalone experience. The combat here is responsive and brutal, as Kratos rips and tears through his foes with a heavy dose of quick time events that somehow don't feel tacky or obnoxious at all. The finishers were both satisfying and vicious, and that especially applies to the horrific ways that Kratos kills the game's bosses. Along with the ferocious action, God of War III also features a lot of platforming and puzzles, and not only do they serve as good breaks in between all the hacking and slashing, but they're also fun in their own right, even if the combat was the best part of the game for me. I also liked how the game introduced its new items and weapons, as they all felt engrained within the progression of the story.

Kratos is as compelling as he is ruthless, and watching him bludgeon and destroy everyone and everything that stands in his path made his occasional moments of regret and sorrow feel that much more impactful. Terrence C. Carson's gleefully over-the-top performance makes listening to Kratos speak entertaining on its own, and it also meshes surprisingly well with the rest of the game's tone. My only real complaint about the game was that I didn't get nearly as much use out of the unlockable weapons as I did out of the unlockable items, as the only other weapon that I used consistently alongside the Blades of Exile was the Nemean Cestus. Other than that, though, God of War III was a really fun time, and if I somehow come across a PS2 or a PS3, then I'll try and play the other two games in the original trilogy as soon as I can.