the writing in this game is just

"WOAH THERE MR. BADASS MCSWAGOTRON! HOW YA DOIN WITH THAT BITCHIN NEW MISSION EH????? HOW BOUT THOSE SEXY NEW GUNS?????? AHAHA ANYWAYS MY WIFE LEFT ME BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT, WE GOTTA GO KILL THAT ULTRA BONER NAMED HANDSOME JACK! ANYWAYS, I GOTTA GO, MY MICROWAVED BURRITOS ARE DONE! FUCK EM UP MR. AWESOMESAUCE!"


hire me randy and then treat me like shit

Transistor's combat system is kind of a treat, a strange blend of real-time and turn-based combat that derives a decent amount of tension from leaving you in control of when you jump from one to the other. This system isn't anything amazing, and dwindled in interest for me towards the end of the game's modest runtime, but it feels innovative and overall I had quite a bit of fun. I particularly like how your health is tied to your abilities this putting an ability out of commission for your next battle if you take too much damage, and in doing so organically forcing you to tinker with your ability set-up and experiment with new combinations.

The aesthetic here is fantastic, the game's style and vibe being low-key enchanting at times, but gosh I wish I liked the story more. As it is I just felt very detached through much of the narrative, which despite being a huge focal point of the game is often very cryptic as to what is actually going on. There are games where I enjoy this approach of obliquely hinting at the true nature of the game's world, where you can realistically finish the game without knowing all the details (think Hollow Knight, or Dark Souls), but these are not games that dedicate nearly as much time to talking as Transistor does.

For me the allure of Zero Dawn as a new IP was the novelty of its world. Figuring out where the robot dinos came from, learning about Aloy and the tribal civilizations, the “Old Ones”, etc. Despite its flaws it effectively built up its sci-fi mysteries throughout and they were mostly given a satisfying answer by the end. Forbidden West continues from there and tries to expand more on Aloy herself and the people she encounters.

The gameplay is pretty much the same aside for some changes to combat and traversal. Fighting the machines is still really fun, and figuring out how to take on all the new variations is the best thing about the game. That said, combat with humans (which there’s a lot of) is still dull, and using melee isn’t much better than it was. They also claimed the climbing would be greatly improved and more free form in comparison, sort of? Honestly I thought it was somewhat worse since it could be really janky to control at times, though the addition of a glider was good.

I feel like the story in this one wasn’t as interesting without the intrigue of its world-building to push it forward. It does try to address Zero Dawn’s biggest flaw to me which was the characters, by making the cast more involved and giving you a base to interact with them between missions. But they still aren’t particularly memorable and the villains are especially boring here. At least the dialogue isn’t as stilted since the cutscene animations are far better than the first.

I did enjoy the side quests though. I don’t remember Zero Dawn’s standing out much at all, but these are more involving and have their own cutscenes akin to the main story, so actually wanted to do the majority of them. The other world activities aside for that (like errands and the generic outposts to clear) are still bland, though you can turn their map icons off and just ignore them at least.

Overall Forbidden West is a fine sequel. The visuals and music continue to be great and there’s better environmental variety. The ranged combat remains the highlight, and they improved on some of the first’s flaws like the side quests and animations pretty well. But it’s let down by how iterative it is, and it doesn’t really do much to justify its story imo.

The Last of Us is one of the best games I have ever played.

This is not an unpopular opinion, I’m sure you know, as The Last of Us put into the public eye a strong focus on narrative in video games while also balancing it with one of the most engaging combat systems I’ve seen in a survival horror game. The design of its combat paired with the excellent pacing of its story made it easily one of the most powerful games of the last generation.

I was not looking forward to a sequel; I was almost dreading one. The ending of that first game is so beautifully ambiguous that giving definitive meaning to it could only ruin it. Joel and Ellie's relationship had been so perfectly played out that there was nothing a sequel could possibly add to their dynamic, I thought.

But somehow those sick, naughty dogs found a way to not only balance the intention of that ending with its new story, but elevate it to heights it had not seen before. Never would I have expected this game to show so much respect to its prequel, and still expand even further upon its themes and characters without eliminating the choice that Joel made.

I could go on and on about Ellie's journey and what it means for both her and Joel, but it’s entirely worth experiencing yourself. The kind of complicated, personal questions it asks you are genuinely thought provoking enough to warrant a playthrough from that alone.

But that isn’t all Part II has to offer, because the already rich gameplay structure of Part I is also expanded upon, turning the original’s Resident Evil 4 into full-on Metal Gear Solid 3 territory. The amount of new craftable items, unlockable weapons and upgrades, enemy variety, verticality, open-ended level design – it’s all to the absolute benefit of this game making it one of if not the most enjoyable Naughty Dog games to just pick up and play ever. I can almost guarantee that more than half of my time playing this game will be in exclusively the Encounter Select.

The Last of Us Part II improves on the original in so many different ways, that it almost competes with its predecessor in quality. there is no way to say that lightly. Naughty Dog have beaten all conceivable odds and created not only a wonderful game, but a sequel that should stand as a symbol of what any continuation of a game should strive to be.

The Last of Us Part II is one of the best games I have ever played.

Completely spoiler-free review.

"What is the point, then?"
"There IS no point! God has forsaken us!"
-Unsere Mütter, Unsere Väter, 2013 (Mini-Series)


Making a sequel is an unfathomably cautious endeavour. How does one deliver a follow-up that isn't too similar to its predecessor, but also doesn't renew the formula too drastically?

I am fully against the statement "the first one was better". It leaves no room for appreciation for what the installment had to offer. As if the mere association with a classic or well-received title instantly renders the game inferior in all respects.

Yes, it's good to point out flaws, but constantly comparing it to a previous title never does any of the compared parties justice.

Without further ado, here goes my spoilerfree review for The Last of Us part II, with the spoiler-heavy one pending.

The Last of Us part II is deeply emotional.

It is a game that deserves its runtime. The gameplay is difficult but never inconsistent, there is a focus on characters and conflict, and, most notably (for me), the world is filled to the brim with small stories that are worth discovering.

It may be a long ride, but at the end it will, at the very least, have been a memorable experience.

Take the time to sit with this game.

Let this game sit with you.

That is all I will say.

Warning: This essay contains visceral descriptions of mental illness. What was initially intended as more of a critique of The Last of Us Part 2’s narrative became something much more personal, and I don’t want to give a false impression of what this is based on the website it’s posted to. To reiterate, this is intensely personal. Proceed with caution.

What would you do if your life’s purpose was pulled out from under you? How do we find solace in a world that seems to revel in taking everything it can from you? Is it worth living when stability is the only thing protecting you from cold uncertainty? Fundamentally, these questions define both The Last of Us and The Last of Us Part 2. While these extremely open-ended questions are answered in appropriately differing ways in both games, they are used as the backdrop to frame almost every character action in them. In the same way that Joel’s yearning to maintain the only thing that resembles stability in his life endeared many players to the first game, Ellie’s quest of seemingly aimless vengeance polarized many when playing its sequel. It tests players’ willingness to go through the same things its characters go through rather than taking more than a few safe roads. It helped me realize my own answers to the questions it asks of Joel and Ellie, and it’s difficult for me to go more than a day without thinking about them. I love The Last of Us, but The Last of Us Part 2 is bolder, more poignant, and unforgettable.


Despite this essay primarily being a gushfest about The Last of Us Part 2, I still believe the first game displays a large amount of character complexity, but I think the response to its narrative was born out of a character that one can easily relate to. The only thing that stands between Joel and his closest loved one is three people that are about to kill her. Would you not do the same to preserve the last person tethering you to sanity? Personally, I believe that there are very few people in the world who wouldn’t make the same decision in Joel’s shoes. This isn’t to say that this makes Joel’s character simple or easily read, it makes him painfully human. Through all of the murder and zombies, we all see a bit of ourselves in Joel. Framed ambiguously, this contributed greatly to the success of The Last of Us’s narrative with a wide audience. It was a perfect storm of relatability, shock value, fuel for disingenuous water cooler talk, and just plain good character writing. People talk about the negative effect that The Last of Us had on Triple A games, but as far as I’m concerned, studios should take more cues from its simple yet effective writing.

It seemed to most people that The Last of Us Part 2 was a shot into left field compared to the first game, but where else could the series feasibly go? The events of its narrative are bold for high budget games, but I struggle to think of a more natural continuation from the first game’s story. Joel even foreshadows the events of the second game when he tells Ellie how broken he was after losing Sarah. We’re not privy to the 20 years between Joel’s loss and him meeting Ellie. The theme of retaliation against a brutal world is obscured by this time skip to show its evolution: finding solace in what little mercy the world has given you. In that way, both games in this series represent two sides of the same coin. There is solace to be found in Abby’s part of the game, and her story is kind of like an abridged version of Joel’s story in the first game. This time Naughty Dog even included the part where the character finds little meaning in a path defined by hate, almost to yell at the player what they were supposed to learn from Joel. There is much to be said about Abby and how her life is destroyed in different ways compared to Ellie, but honestly I’m not extremely interested in her as a character. I like it in the same way I like the first game, but it doesn’t affect me in a strong way. Ellie’s story wouldn’t work as well without Abby’s, but its value to me is almost entirely predicated on how it improves Ellie’s character.

Perhaps my initial response to this game was so different because of how I see Ellie. Ellie, in my experience, is the closest any fictional character has ever come to accurately portraying my mental illness. The willingness to go to great lengths to show people that the world can be just as grim to them as it is to you, even at the expense of your own wellbeing, hit impossibly close to home for me. My depression isn’t defined by withdrawal, but lashing out at others so they can feel the same pain I do. The fear that everyone will either abandon me of their own volition, or do so before I make peace with it is one that permeates my waking thoughts. I’m not proud of this urge, as it gnaws its way into the way I interact with others. It imparts a hostility to my interactions with others, as my inert response is that they will leave me or hate me. It doesn’t sit well with me when I gain a sick satisfaction out of pushing people away, and just ending it before I get too attached. The few people that I can’t push away despite my best efforts are the only stability I have, and I’m not sure what I’ll do when I lose them. So when Ellie returns to the world all the violence it has shown her because it took away her stability, it made more sense to me than anything anyone has done in any other story. It spoke to me like no doctor or therapist or counselor has ever come close to doing before. All I needed to know was that I wasn’t alone in what I felt; that all the emotions I feel so ashamed of were validated in a strange way, and done with so much uncomfortable accuracy. When the end of the game revealed its hand, and Ellie was left with exactly what she had feared the most, I felt more fear than I had in any enemy encounter. It was as if the writers of the game dispelled the facade with which they were communicating to me through, and told me the bitter truth of my life. This game’s narrative certainly didn’t fix me, but it allowed me to accept that I’m not the only person who bears this curse. It’s the curse of remembering people through their polar moments, only recognizing the best and worst that someone has shown you. It’s focusing on that bad until you lose them, and then reaching out desperately for the good that you ignored the whole way.

I’ve attempted to rationalize The Last of Us Part 2 being my favorite game through the lens of its holistic qualities, believing that its characters, themes, and gameplay were markedly better than many of its competitors. It was my attempt to bridge the gap between what I knew as the most profoundly touching piece of media I had ever consumed, and what most others saw as a solid third person action game. The truth is that for most people, that’s exactly what this game will be. Like most Naughty Dog games, its appeal comes from the combination of many things done well. There will always be a stealth game with more depth, a more complex character study, and a more focused narrative. It’s easy to be ashamed of a story you like almost strictly based on its emotional resonance with you. Recognizing that it’s that story’s ability to reach out and comfort you beyond the very text that contains it is when you let go of that shame, and it’s where that story’s true value lies. Allow yourself to love and be loved by the stories you read and the characters you meet.