In this game I think I came across one of the most interesting and powerful ways to portray trauma through a personal and autobiographical lens using video game language.
There is something so overwhelming and deeply moving about finding one's agency intertwined with a personal story that I think is impossible to replicate in other mediums, and this game I think makes masterful work of it.
It's a sharp, difficult and painful story told with great courage, sincerity and insight, and I think it's really something precious.
One thing that particularly struck me is that this game was supported with funds dedicated specifically to work that deals with queer themes: I always feel really admired by how video games are becoming a safe space for transgender people and other marginalized categories because it makes me think about how important it is today to use interactivity to bring forward issues of identity, and I think it's very healthy and important to be able to have these complex experiences of engaging with other subjectivities.

It's really not for me, but it's surely great.

There are really a lot of things that impressed me about Papers, Please especially from the perspective of game design: it clearly is a rather unique game in terms of structure and progression, and because of that I think that it had to build its own learning curve, inserting additional mechanics and elements of complexity time after time in a way that came out to be extremely anxiety-inducing as much as actually genuine and interesting.
Papers, Please is also and above all a story of choices, priorities, freedom, and bureaucracy, and it is a story that manages to unfold itself crystal clear in front of the player by confronting him or her with increasingly complex situations: how willing are you to put your job position at risk to do what is right? Is it right to take bribes and put others' lives at risk if there is a shortage of money at home and a sick child? Are you willing to put your family's survival in front of your own life?
I really loved everything about this game, I think it represents a way of understanding the simulative potential of video gaming in a very original and not at all trivial way, showing how even behind a tedious and repetitive mundane job passes a universe of situations and complexities, incredible people, hopes and frustrations.

A cool expansion for the first game in the series, with some fun missions and an arena mode that turns out to be a particularly
crucial component to enrich the customizable and varied gameplay elements that make this franchise unique in its own way.

Horror for me is something really magical, a primordial door on the human nature, a disturbing breeze that from the origins of evolution passes exactly right through YOU sitting in the armchair and shitting yourself: that is why I have a deep respect and eternal gratitude for the artworks that manage to ignite this unique magic in the right manner.
Faith is outstanding in every way, and not just because with very few pixels it manages to paint a mythology of excellent and delightful scares, but also because of the infinite ways it succeeds in integrating them into its very simple mechanics: in Faith I found the classic survival horror tension, narrative shreds that unravel note by note in environments that portray the horrors that inhabited them, the poetics of the uncanny and the unusual at any cost that only the underground indie realm is capable of honoring. Faith is pure creativity, sheer talent and love of fright in the healthiest, most adorable way possible.

Small game that presents the perspective of a person with ADHD trying to complete a task, with the obstacles, misunderstandings, and frustrations that come with it. It seems to me a very interesting way to create awareness about challenges that can often go unnoticed in other people's lives and for that it reminded me of another little game, Adventures With Anxiety!
Very cool.

An astonishingly rich and exciting journey to the dawn of virtual communities and the edge of Y2K, which graciously honors with a unique sensitivity the expressive and creative chaos of a humanity facing a whole new world of interactions: the characters of Hypnospace Outlaw and the digital environments in which they come to life, in this labyrinth of web pages made of low-resolution images, rambling text, weird passions and a genuine need for belonging are what really captured me about this game, which with an almost philological ability of recreation brings back an extremely varied, but absolutely recognizable aesthetic that too often has been ridiculed by easy stereotypes and superficial fashions.
And yet, as if simply experiencing this world freely wasn't enough, the game manages to be perfectly structured within a fair compromise of linearity, which gives purpose to exploration with refined investigative mechanics.
There could be so many things to mention, so many incredible tools that fit into the gameplay, so many facets of the characters and their actions, but I really wouldn't know where to begin to describe them, it was all just magical and wonderful.

One thing I find really fascinating about the world of shōjo products is how, despite being conceived within the heteronormative framework of Japanese publishing practices, many artworks have managed to overturn gender dynamics by using them from an alternative angle, including queer and feminist perspectives and opening up to crucial social and psychological issues.
In my limited experience with these products, I find that to be the case of groundbreaking artworks like Revolutionary Girl Utena in which there is a brave and powerful reinterpretation of gender stereotypes from a strongly female-oriented emancipatory point of view, but also, in the more narrow and formulaic sphere of maho-shojo products, of things like the Puella Magi Madoka Magica series, in which the tenuous themes of classic coming-of-age stories take the form of the darker nightmares, fears, and social pressures of reaching adulthood.
I find that Life After Magic has managed to perfectly embrace all that can be inspiringly revolutionary about this history of shōjo emancipation and to translate it into an adorable, very sentimentally mature game with a modern and inclusive look at gender identities and the difficulty of growing up, reinventing ourselves in a world that seems less and less conceived to our own needs.
It is an extremely clever game, brought to life with great enthusiasm and a rare sense of empathy, masterfully written and with a generous amount of content and possible endings that I don't think you really find frequently in free games.

Sam & Max comes storming into LucasArts history bringing along from the world of indie comic books a baggage of gags with mature and violent satirical humor, a visual backdrop of American absurdities and goofiness taken from the roadsides and the most ridiculous tourist attractions and many, many innovations in the expressive language of point-and-click adventures.
Compared to its predecessors, Sam & Max turns out to be much more varied, less verbose, more immediate and cartoony in its gameplay experience: interaction with the game world is now based on a series of icons that are assigned to a single mouse button, which open at all times to different scenarios that are always fun and never predictable; the game areas are small and condensed, but brought to life by exceptional pixelart and perfectly recognizable details, allowing for a very immediate and natural engagement to the game world; the game interface is freed of any nonessential elements, the lines of dialogue are short and effective, and the story is sketched just enough to make it clear that this is an on-the-road adventure in which you just have to let yourself be carried along by what you find on your way.
Steve Purcell is the creative genius who managed to bring together two worlds, that of comic books and that of video games, which were born to support each other, and this game is the perfect demonstration of that.

Among the games I got to play this year I may have developed a strong and somewhat obsessive attraction to to hypertextual and nonlinear interactive adventures like Serial Experiments Iain and One Shot in the Dark, Now I'm Dead, but I simply find that projects like this are really brilliant to begin with and open up some really incredible expressive possibilities in terms of narrative scope.
Mémoire 0079 offers a series of documents among which to navigate that recount the terrible conflicts and sombre political dynamics of a near future in a highly detailed and vividly verisimilar manner, choosing to range between journalistic excerpts, extracts from official communications, interviews, and diaries in a very intriguing way.
Even if it is the outstanding writing that really makes it a remarkable game, everything else contributes equally to the presentation of the experience in an impressive way: from the design of the browsing interface to the visuals that enrich certain events in the story and the audio tracks that occasionally come through in a quite cohesive manner.

I think that the crucial relevance of Psychonauts is to be found in what it represented for the history of video gaming, at an extremely critical time for the medium when such creative courage, set in motion by a genius like Tim Schafer, was exactly what was needed.
It seems to me that even to this day the gaming world is constantly torn between the motionless monotony of big productions and the often unheard voices of the indie world that bring forth a spirit of authenticity and real interest in the creative potential of interactivity, but there were times when innovative ideas and perspectives managed to meet the interest of companies, when it was in front of everyone's eyes that something had to change: it was in one of these moments that Psychonauts came along and turned everything upside down.
Psychonauts somehow managed to establish itself with nothing less than a lunatic idea, this hallucinatory journey into a universe of psychic worlds, populated by absurd characters, an insane variety of mechanics, and painted on the screen with such a powerful identity unthinkable perhaps even nowadays on a game of this scale; it is an extremely ambitious game, but one in which there is such an underlying coherence that makes it totally crystal clear in its intent: everything is where it should have been, everything manifests the exact care that has gone into it, it is a COMPLETE game in every aspect, and that is something that, again, to this day seems to be increasingly rare.
Psychonauts is a treasure that we should all keep in our hearts, an idea carried from start to finish with passion and talent, a work of art conceived and realized with the same spirit, and that is just funny as hell

I'm sorry because a hint of atmosphere all things considered it's there, but there's really almost nothing in this annoyingly linear game that ends before it can begin.
Whatever, no big deal.

Picked up simply for the sake of completion since I was interested in playing the second title in the franchise: it just didn't stick with me too much.
The emphasis on acrobatic movements and the fast pace both work fairly well at adding some consistency in the gameplay, but the messy level design and confusing visual features make the experience quite unfulfilling, not completely turning the game unplayable, but certainly failing to create something truly memorable.

I have always held a great appreciation for anthologically structured artworks, especially when these bring together a wide variety of perspectives and styles to a same theme: Gardens of Vextro, while extremely simple and handcrafted in nature, managed to send me back to the experience of the animated anthologies I love most, from Fantasia to Genius Party, and it is something that in the gaming sphere I had not yet had the opportunity to experience.
The great strength of this game I think is precisely this structure of it, which works extremely well in promoting even absurd and bold ideas from many different creative minds, that would probably remain discarded if taken individually.
Unfortunately, I can't say that every contribution brought together in this work impressed me, and perhaps I expected something more in strictly qualitative terms, but taking this collective work for what it is, which is a bouquet of flowers constructed from fragments of ideas, more or less successful experiments, personal experiences, but also traumas and the need for self-expression, I cannot help but be very grateful that something like this exists, of which I hope to see more and more in the future.