Shigeru Miyamoto has gone on record saying that Mario “isn’t the kind of game you necessarily have to finish, it should be fun to just pick up and play,” and as a kid I often really would boot it up solely to jump around Bob-Omb Battlefield for a bit and feel myself or whatever. A pattern I’ve observed with a lot of gamers is that, as they get older, they slowly prioritize finishing games over simply the inherent fun of playing them — and while I definitely feel that was accurate for my late teens/early twenties as well, I’ve since returned to craving those more innate pleasures.

It’s wild how much Nintendo got right about Mario’s animations and the overall sound design on this first attempt, conveying that perfect sweetspot between weight and nimbleness, something I honestly don’t get as much out of 64's successors. Similarly, the level design also manages to find this nebulous since-unmatched middle-ground between open-ness and tight pacing, with many of the stages presenting you with vertical, spiral-shaped layouts, made up of multiple digestible paths that intersect so seamlessly that you never stop to think about them as anything other than one cohesive whole.

Aspects that feel like obvious limitations, like being booted out of the level when grabbing a Star or the rigid camera, end up aiding the game’s pacing and overall structure the more you actually think about it. The way you bounce between different paintings within Peach’s castle, completely at your own leisure, mirrors how you tackle the obstacles inside those worlds; loose and free-form and whichever way seems enjoyable to you at the moment without even having to think about it. It all seems so simple, and yet I’m still waiting for another platformer that is this immediately fun and endlessly replayable.

in contrast to it's reputation in some circles as a sophisticated and unapproachable masterwork that only the most capable in the medium can dare claim to have really conquered, revisiting dark souls in 2022 has the same essential feel as revisiting elric of melnibone in the same year. dark souls is pure pulp fantasy, absolutely lascivious in it's enthusiasm to play the hits and delight in the playing of them. there's no attempt to hide the basic moods and beats the game is playing, instead it simply enjoys the classics with an infectious delight. about the only thing that isn't pulp about dark souls' fantasy is the sexism, which is mostly just deeply boring and conservative instead of being as weird and outrageous as a lot of those old paperbacks could be.

undead burg. darkroot basin. lord of light. the abyss. the dark. fire. the sun. demon ruins. Big Hat Logan. fuckin blighttown. it's deeply mundane in a way that really works. there's no Tarnished-esqe straining towards the illusion of novelty when there is none, none of the worldbuilding has any facade or pretense to it, it is what it is on the tin, which is exactly the spirit of a pulp novel that promises swords and legends and tits and proceeds to deliver exactly that, but with a visual artistry and methodically slow pace that all but forces the player to take the time to appreciate why we like these base concepts in the first place. getting Cursed in The Depths and having to spend not-inconsiderable time on a grueling backtrack up to The Undead Parish to talk to Oswald to get it cured is not a traditionally "fun" or "novel" journey but it is one that invites consideration of every step of that journey. it is sophisticated appreciation of "junk food" art, and that is just quintessential Video Games to me.

the game's writing is (mostly) wonderfully unpretentious, in stark contrast to it's most ardent fans, fans who have done a tremendous disservice to the game's narrative by archiving it in the form of videos and wikis that tear it from the aforementioned pacing and stunning visual direction that brings it life and meaning. a lore wiki about the primorial serpent kaathe and his darkstalkers in the abyss would read like the rote fantasy claptrap that it ultimately fundamentally is, but the way the game deploys it, the way it hides Kaathe and what he has to say from the standard progression of the journey of the Chosen, the way the Abyss and the Dark is depicted as a literally blank void, a Nothingness that exists totally apart from our conception of the world as we can possibly conceive of it, that is what makes these concepts compelling.

though admittedly, the game hardly does itself any favors in the honestly quite weak DLC, which recasts the Dark from a compelling evocation of the unknown, and literalizes it as a Spooky Cave with a Fucked Up Guy inside that spreads Corruption Juice that turns people into Monsters. dark souls works because it puts in the work to make concepts like this visually and poetically compelling, but the dlc is much more traditionally interested in the exposition of Lore as a beginning and end, and demonstrates the very thin line between Compelling Pulp Fantasy and Drearily Rote Pulp Fantasy. artorias of the abyss, for better or worse, for good or ill, feels completely haunted by the future of Fromsoft, and feels at odds with what I found so loveable about dark souls upon this revisit.

the story and world of dark souls is nothing you haven't seen before if you're even lightly read in fantasy and mythical literature. but because it deeply invests in the presentation of and love of these things without pretension or subversion, through the delightfully shonky and functional UI and the warm PS3 sheen, it works. dark souls knows that sometimes, we just want to read about elric of melnibone, the eternal champion, brooding on his ruby throne while the Lord of Dragon Cave scowls from across the court. i don't think i'll ever love it like i love it's younger, weirder, rougher, moodier sibling, but it'll always make me smile.

There would be no better way to shoot yourself in the foot than making a sequel to a game so highly deified and demonized as Undertale, but Toby Fox somehow took the challenge head on and created, so far, a sequel worthy of its predecessor. Playing Chapter 1 for the first time back then, I wasn't expecting to be dazzled by its self assurance and showmanship, and I certainly wasn't ready for how masterfuly it weaponized its nostalgia in the same manner as only Mother 3 could. Beyond just being a spiritual sequel, it was certain that Deltarune would be a continuation of Undertale's message and concepts, and the note it ended on was prime bait I was fully willing to gobble up for the next chapter.

Now living in a 6 year old post Undertale world (!), the surprising brilliance of Chapter 2's subversion is how little of it there actually is. Contrasting with Undertale's looming shadow in Chapter 1, Chapter 2 does everything in its power to make you forget what sequel you are actually playing, taking instead a celebration tone that fully takes advantage of its enormous anticipation and that constantly throws at the screen sheer effort and confidence in its presentation. Establishing a "Monster of the Week" plot, Chapter 2 is a joyful non sequitur passage that expels the darkness bubbling beneath it all to put the spotlight on the main cast, and in the course of 4 hours, Toby Fox demonstrates a full understanding and grasp of Undertale's language that he flawlessly exploits at every turn to create some of the most well crafted comedic setups and pay-offs that could only be possible in videogames.

It's a finely and carefully laid out rug to pull from under us, because at its heart, it is still a story about the escapism and its double edged nature we constantly seek from outside our daily lives. The optional content is a stark reminder that we haven't escaped Undertale yet, and the nature of the Dark Fountains explored here more overtly comment on the artificiality of this universe and its roots. Yet, Chapter 2 just decides to revel in that escapism for a little while, wearing its videogame influences on its sleeve as it gives us the calm rollercoaster of a ride before the storm. Deltarune is without an ending already a much tighter, stronger and more cohesive experience than Undertale ever was, and I'm enjoying immensely the way Toby Fox and his team are setting up the pieces on the board to throw them to the floor further along the way.

From the moment those first notes play in Cyber City and all the way up to that ridiculous genre bending final boss, I was having the most fun with a videogame I have had in a very long time, and I am left once again eagerly and desperately waiting for more. Whether the completed Deltarune experience we perceive in our minds turns out to be a reality or not, I am content with it just being this full of life and joy.