I wish I had anything meaningfully original to say about this. It's daunting, in more ways than one. I could stumble through praise for its clockwork construction, the heartrending setpieces, and its admirable, probably unjustified confidence that you're going to figure this out—whoever you are, whatever "this" is. But that shit rings hollow, because there's nothing I can say that captures how important I think it is.

Outer Wilds is one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever had. It's going to stay with me for the rest of my life.

I had a relatively unique experience with Hollow Knight, given its trajectory and explosive popularity. I played it on the day of release with next to zero expectations. Despite being a Kickstarter backer, I hadn't read a single update in the roughly three years since the campaign launched, so late February 2017 arrived and I figured I should at least try it.

I spent two hours thinking it's nice. Pleasant. Well made, sure, impressive even! Presumably tiny budget, absolutely tiny team, they're doing a lot with a little. As the hours pass, I start wondering when exactly I'll stop being impressed. There reasonably shouldn't be this much game. So much of it shouldn't be this unreasonably good.

There's an alarming number of soft thresholds where your attention is tested. Not directly, or loudly, but it becomes increasingly clear that Team Cherry crafted a world—and tools to investigate, engage—that welcomes scrutiny, and stands alongside the best in the medium. I'd refer to FromSoftware, but the comparison is approaching threadbare at this point.

I came back this year to finally try the free updates, and it holds up. Easily. I consider myself lucky to have had an unburdened, uninformed first experience, but the game can take a punch. Expectation is a challenge, and Hollow Knight is ready for it.

Burns so much goodwill in the back half. What was otherwise an awesome game is tarnished by a gross attempt to shortcut an "emotional" arc.

It sucks, because they set up a great world with endearing characters. And I could even accept the totally dissonant availability of lethal force - it's still a AAA video game after all.

They just dropped the ball.

(Still better than WD1, though. Fuck Aiden Pearce and his iconic hat.)

If you skip past the main menu of either of the first two Dead Space games, and you spend not too much time scrutinizing shit like tutorialization and texture quality, you probably won't stop to consider their age. The diegetic interface escapes most of the telltale signs of contemporary sensibilities, at least on the surface, and the sound and art design are strong enough to carry dated fidelity. It's not immediately clear to me that Dead Space 1 is twelve years old, which is really impressive.¹

Dead Space 2 opens in much the same way as its older sibling, carrying the interface forward, but there's no mistaking this period of games. Isaac has a voice, and he's not afraid to use it. He's here to exclaim like a big boy ("Fuck," Isaac exclaims)—he'll even employ bigger sentences as smaller parts of Cutscenes™! Isaac is a character that speaks and has something resembling a personality. That's observable fact.

Okay, the cinematic touchstones are generally fine.² Isaac being tossed around by a rampaging necromorph (read: angry space zombie) who intends him terrible, gore-fueled harm— it's exciting, right? Sure. I'm just not convinced the burgeoning Uncharted era did much good for developers who seemed pressured to prioritize 'loud' for their next project. Probably can't blame just Nathan Drake³ for that one. But what the fuck do I know, maybe this is exactly what Visceral wanted to make.

Everything is polished to a crisp sheen. Movement, gunplay, the kinesis ability, they're refined and equipped for a faster pace; the relatively linear action of a cinematic shooter. As someone who thought the shooting in Dead Space 1 was great, this is mostly improved. But it is missing something. Grit, maybe. An amiable friction that would never survive so much dedicated polish. On balance, I think both hit similar highs. On the other hand, there's no low in this quite as bad as how the first game ends, which is nice.

I've seen folks argue that Dead Space 2 moves away from horror in ways reminiscent of T1->T2, or Alien to Aliens, and while I believe that's ostensibly true, the horror in this series was always bodily, and just about every misguided step into psychological tension is clumsy at its very best. In that sense, the notion that the sequel shifts focus is largely successful, because you have less time spent showcasing trope-ridden writing somehow meant to elicit terror. Marginally. There's still a lot.

I like Dead Space 2, though. Even nine years later, games that involve guns in some form don't often attempt this level of granular interplay. It's underpinned by a morbid—and silly—premise ("[...] the limbs!!!" they scream, hoping the player will finally understand), but that's all in service of a genuinely fun game.

Except the part where it occasionally confuses pitch black darkness for 'scary'. I wish it wouldn't do that. I'm not scared, I just can't see.

Both Dead Space 1 and 2 are worth revisiting in 2020. It's a good time. Got me wondering about 3, but that shit was tired even with a two-year interval back in 2013, so I don't have much hope.

——
¹ Too Human also released in 2008. Peruse screenshots at your leisure.
² Quick-time events are not fine.
³ It's capitalism. And Nathan Drake.
——

As much as I enjoy the... environmental puzzle-movement (is this anything?)... and the fantastic music, they can't salvage a story that I believe fundamentally misunderstands its own antagonist. And recycling the central pathos of the first game was a bizarre choice. Didn't work for me, I guess.

I'd have to replay both and spend more time thinking about this to construct anything resembling analysis, but all I can muster is a leaden sigh. Despite so much to do, such an abundance of content, the game ultimately feels kinda empty.

I don't think I like a single one of the systems they've added to this game post-launch. It's a shallow mess of unending tasks and upkeep. The relatively infinite cosmos at your fingertips, the wonder of space on tap, and they've furnished it with what feels like an insatiable fear that you might for one second be unoccupied. Unbothered.

If they let you hit a button to disable the mission log, and jettison most of the Fun to opt-in, that might be nice. Could be something. It's just incessant, the noise, the overtures beseeching you onto a plethora of colorful, ornate treadmills that all end up the exact same place.

Nowhere. They're treadmills.

Ineffective horror situated against a final act that steadily unravels into an unsatisfying and deeply unimpressive ending. Climactic it ain't.

But the combat holds up really well! Tearing pieces off a smorgasbord of zombies is just as fun as it was 12 years ago. The weapons are so good that I wish they'd more actively push the player to experiment. Why would anyone use a "Force Gun" in a game all about dismemberment? (dope gun, you should use it)

It's a solid world with slightly too-familiar roots, though original storytelling is probably not why you're playing Dead Space. The game itself is a few hours too long, but the traversal—even retreading old ground—feels surprisingly organic. Despite an over-reliance on the tram system (which I assume is a technical limitation), they manage a really strong pace on the back of level design alone.

Even as the story comes to a screeching halt and slowly suffocates in the vacuum of space.