Lorelei and the Laser Eyes feels like an anachronism. I don’t just mean this from how the game haphazardly scatters documents from 1847 and 2014 throughout the hotel set in 1962, or how it references multiple past eras of gaming with PS1 survival-horror fixed camera angles or DOS-inspired 1-bit adventure game segments hidden away on floppy disks, though these elements certainly play their part in creating what developer Simogo refers to as “collage of styles, ideas, and disparate inspirations.” No, what instantly caught my attention was how uncompromising yet thoughtful the game felt. In an era where most developers seem content to simply pay lip service to the great mystery/adventure games of old while over-simplifying their gameplay mechanics, Simogo seems to have figured out the formula of creating a final product that feels intricately designed, yet ultimately accessible.

I’ll admit that I’m not too familiar with Simogo’s previous work; the only other game I’ve played by them is Sayonara Wild Hearts. That said, I would not have immediately guessed that Lorelei was by the same developers from my first hour alone. In some ways, Lorelei presents an interesting foil to Sayonara. Sayonara’s persisting strength is its grasp on harmony: the epitome of what is essentially a playable music video, it’s pure and immediate gratification racking up points to the beat in this flashy and lush arcade game. On the other hand, Lorelei feels deliberately constructed to emphasize its dissonance. From the uncomfortably quiet manor clashing with the occasional audible off-screen disruption to the vibrating monochrome textures interspersed with low poly environment, nothing seems right in its place. It’s a much slower burn than Sayonara as well, with most players taking fifteen hours or more (in comparison to Sayonara’s two hour runtime) to navigate the sprawling hotel with no hand-holding provided whatsoever.

As different as these two titles appear however, they do have one thing in common: minimalism. For example, both games require just a d-pad/joystick and a single button to be played. Sayonara gets away with this because the available actions on input feel clearly telegraphed by the visuals and generally boil down to moving and timed dodges with the music. Lorelei similarly gets away with this because it deemphasizes more complex/technical interactions (i.e. the usage suite of adventure game verbs in look, touch, obtain, etc) with sheer puzzle intuition. Simogo describes this as forcing the player to “get a deeper understanding… and connection to [the world]” and just like Sayonara, “wanted the complexity of the game to revolve around this, and not dexterity.”

What makes this particularly impressive is how Simogo was able to strike a fair balance between simplicity and variety. According to the game’s development page, the game became “a very iterative toy box” where many different systems conceptualized over the game’s development cycle could interact and interplay with one another in different ways. Interestingly, I found that most of the solutions to these different puzzles were not that difficult or complex to determine. Even so, despite Lorelei’s simple controls and straightforward objective (figuring out passwords/key phrases to unlock new areas and information), the game is able to successfully obfuscate the means to achieve said objective by drastically changing the means in which information is presented to the player, for instance by using different camera angles and systems that allowed them to “change a lot of rendering parameters on the fly” from the aforementioned iterative toy box. Additionally, Simogo highlights key details from clues to ensure that players don’t get too confused, but leave enough ambiguity by never outright leading the players onto specific logic trains and refusing to provide any specific assistance (no in-game hint system and no specific feedback aside from telling players if they’re right/wrong). The result is a confident final product that understands the persisting strength of a good puzzle adventure game: a game that gives the player all the information they need to succeed while giving them the room to work out the connections themselves, and a game that constantly surprises the player with new opportunities to intuitively understand the world around them without ever feeling too frustrated by unfamiliar mechanics.

I do have to admit however, that there are a few instances where Lorelei’s minimalism and uncompromising nature can backfire. For instance, the lack of detailed player feedback aside from a right/wrong sound effect usually isn’t a significant deterrent, given that players can fine-tune most of the game’s one-variable solutions and are encouraged to tackle the hotel’s many branching paths and puzzles at their own pace, since they may not even have the pertinent information required and might have to work out other puzzles to obtain said information. However, certain late-game puzzles require multiple sets of answers (ex: a computer that requires three different types of phrases in a password), and it can be frustrating getting barricaded by such puzzles and not knowing which part of the answer requires more investigation. I’ll also echo some of the previous complaints regarding the controls, because while I appreciate that Simogo has crafted a base system where more complex controls aren’t required, I also don’t think that it’s a huge ask to add a “cancel/back” input for a second button. As a result, it takes significantly more scrolling to get out of menus or spamming random inputs to erroneously enter passwords if I want to back out of a puzzle, and the amount of wasted time per menu/puzzle really builds up over a playthrough.

While I did find the somewhat telegraphed ending slightly underwhelming given how elaborately the game wove its lore into its many clues, I nevertheless really savored my time with Lorelei. I might not have laser eyes, but I can certainly see this game’s approach upon system cohesion influencing many puzzle adventure games to come. As it stands, it’s another solid entry for Simogo’s innovative yet familiar library, and I’ll be thinking about its many secrets for quite some time. Perhaps it's finally time to delve into Device 6.

The first few minutes of Panzer Dragoon when your blue dragon majestically soars above the rippling water to the tune of Flight define a classic video game introduction that I doubt I will ever forget. A part of me expected the experience to be steadily downhill from there given the common complaints that I’ve heard, but to the game’s credit, it quickly established its defining hook and never let go. Panzer Dragoon was one of the first games to take total advantage of its 3D space, and it does so through its ability to rotate the player’s aim in 360 degrees. The catch is that while you can’t aim sideways/behind the dragon when looking forward, there’s a trade-off in that you can’t steer the dragon and change its mid-air position while in first-person aiming around the sides of/behind its body. As a result, there’s a precise science to swapping between these two camera modes. The macro never gets complex (shoot everything in sight while dodging and shooting down enemy attacks), but the micro is just involved enough to where there’s little downtime as you constantly peruse your surroundings and systematically pick off your foes. This is a game that wants the player to be aware of everything around them, and Team Andromeda was more than happy to let them soak in the sights given that the minimalist UI (simply consisting of a radar for spotting enemies and a player health bar) never really gets in the way. Even today, I find Panzer Dragoon to be an absolutely gorgeous game, and I can only imagine how people in 1995 felt playing this for the first time.

I’ve been warned that Panzer Dragoon’s difficulty can be a significant roadblock, but after a few playthroughs, I think it’s definitely conquerable. Besides mastering control of the player reticle/camera, players need to recognize when to utilize the homing laser lock-on (holding down the fire button) versus mashing to quickly fire the player’s handgun. The homing laser is great for getting rid of enemy swarms and easily targeting moving foes, while the handgun is a godsend for melting beefy mobs and bosses while sniping faraway targets that can’t be locked onto. In particular, Episode 3’s jumping ship boss is a notable chump check if you refuse to lock-on, while Episode 5’s airships will overwhelm you if you don’t mash. Additionally, I’ve also heard that Panzer Dragoon can feel very unforgiving since the player is allowed only one game-over before they have to restart a run, and the game only regenerates half of the player's health upon completing a level. However, given that the player can earn an extra credit per stage if they manage to shoot down more than 85% of the enemies in a single episode, I'd say there’s enough leeway given if the player takes the time to master its controls and meticulously defeat enough enemies instead of simply playing entirely defensive.

The only real gripe that I’d have is that enemy attacks sometimes blend into the background (ex: black cannonballs on top of dark environments) and can be tough to spot, especially when obscured by smoke effects from already defeated airships. I can still dodge most of these attacks with enough experience, having learning the enemy spawn positions, though it takes time to master given that players need to adapt to the game’s weightiness and natural response time. After all, you’re controlling a rider controlling a dragon rather than controlling the dragon itself, so it takes a bit more time to shift the model away from incoming barrages. As is, I’d still prefer if all enemy attacks were distinctly colored to stand out from both my own projectiles and the surroundings. Regardless, Panzer Dragoon was a breath of fresh air and I don’t mind its relative simplicity or brevity when it manages to succinctly capture an enthralling rail-shooting experience that I’ll gladly replay just to see myself visibly improve with every new run. All I can say is that this was certainly no flight of fancy; if the base model was this good, then I can’t wait to see what Team Andromeda/Smilebit have to offer with Zwei and Orta.

Ultros is at its core a Metroid-Vania but it doesn’t quiet follow a lot of the core mechanics that you’ve come to expect from the genre. Ultimately it excels at its presentation being one the most beautiful games I think I have ever played; the sound design is fantastic and the visual language is breathtaking. Unfortunately, Ultros is held back by a few odd mechanics and lack of clarity in its requirements of the player.

The first few hours of gameplay and exploration are honestly some of its best. You wake outside a crashed space pod in a hallucinogenic strange world with no direct and merely a puddle to view yourself in. Your only immediate option is to venture out into the organic depths below you and hope to make sense of what is going on. This is when you will be introduced to the games narrative and one of the few character that seem to be lurking in this ship of some kind. The narrative is present in written format where other characters will talk at you and you can see reactions from the players sprite. The story is generally quiet intriguing but seems to lose focus throughout the game. I had a general idea of what was happening but some of the characters and hidden lore seemed a little random or to vague for me to understand on a first playthrough.
The premise is some kind of time loop where you and everyone else is stuck re living a moment while a big ball creature (Ultros) grows in the middle of the ship. Almost ever character has no idea they are in a loop with the exception of one who seems to remember you after you progress the story. I believe there are possibly 2 or more endings to Ultros but unfortunately, I wasn’t particularly satisfied with the outcome I received.

The core objective seems to be killing or reviving 6 of these mummies that are linked to the big ball thing but I’m not really sure why. Once one of these mummies has been slain you go back to the big ball and the loop restarts with some dialog and cool visuals beforehand. Your options are to either slay all the mummies and end the game or once they have been killed bringing some kind of organic tether to them which will cleanse them in some way. Ultros expected you to figure out that this is an option purely by trial and error which could very easily be missed. I do like that this allows the player to pick if they want to put the effort in for an alternative ending but it becomes beyond tedious and for a smaller game there are very little resources online to help.

The exploration in Ultros is similar to your average Metroid-Vania but less focused on upgrading manoeuvrability and unlocking shortcuts. This became one of the first major problems I had with the game, it took so long to get anywhere fast and it was quiet exhausting to explore new paths. Instead, you are encouraged to use seeds that will grow into different kind of plants / trees providing vines to swing on or platforms to jump on. In concept, this is a really cool idea and it defiantly had moments that were quite impressive. However, some plants will take a time loop to fully grow meaning you are not able to use the new “shortcut” until you progress to the next loop. Similarly, this also became a problem when you are not sure what plant to grown where or you do not have the correct seed available to grow the required tree.
The previously mentioned tether that unlocks the alternative ending requires a strong knowledge of what plants to grow and paths to take. This is because you will be leading a tether from 1 area of the map to another in a plant-based daisy chain. Unfortunately, after a few hours of trying to figure out how to make this chain, the slow movement speed and lack of clear direction made me quit this endeavour and instead get the “bad” ending.

Initially while playing Ultros I was quiet impressed by the combat and encouragement to play well and with variety. The system they use rewards new combos and variety by giving better rewards based on how well you perform in combat. There's a mix of different doges, backsteps, stealth attacks, parry’s and much more which was initially quiet exciting. You unlock these moves and other abilities by leveling up your skill tree from eating a variety of grown fruits or carcases from the enemies you kill. However, the skill tree is very limited and you will quickly be maxing everything out as the consumables are also your healing items and there is a lot of them. I believe this is intentional though as when a loop is completed you will be returned to 0 skill points and no weapons as if you just restarted the game. Unfortunately though you can mitigate this almost completely, as with the use of additional hidden skill points found in the world this will keep any chosen skill permanently unlocked. This then feeds into another problem where you become either to strong in combat or you use a skill tree ability where most enemies will completely ignore the player; this allows you to waltz on right past them completely ignoring all future combat.

As I think back on my time playing Ultros I feel honestly more disappointed about what could have been than what has been. The beautiful visuals paired with some great combat ideas and an intriguing set up for a story sounds like a recipe for a brilliant game. But unfortunately Ultros just doesn’t deliver in the execution and that makes me really sad. I hope the small team continues to make games and refine their craft as there’s absolutely passion poured into Ultros and I would to see what’s next from the studio.

I'm tempted to hold off on review because I hear the postgame is so robust, but I have to many thoughts, so here I am after hitting credits. I apologize for the unstructured ramble; I'll update this review when I've done postgame stuff.

Metroidvania is the genre that I think I like way more than I actually do like: I used to call it my favorite genre, and I STILL have plenty of games I consider favorites and replay over and over. But in truth, I feel like I'm in love with an idealization of the genre that rarely gets met by any game not called Super Metroid: Sequence being only a suggestion, with alternate paths and sequence breaks accomplished not just by glitches and wall clips, but mastery of mechanics and their nuances to master the environment. For whatever reason, the whole genre seems to have collectively decided that abilities, a persistent map, and collectibles are all that matter, with most of them feeling like tightly linear affairs pulling you on a string through a world that feels like it's begging to be truly trekked through, but disallowed by the developer for a myriad of reasons that I probably understand but think are silly.

Animal Well is Super Metroid 2. Not the only Super Metroid 2, but certainly one of the rare ones. (I would not be surprised if the solo developer was VERY inspired by my favorite Super Metroid 2, by the way. I'll leave it unnamed and see how many people guess it. Hint: It's not even a real metroidvania.)

The atmosphere? Moody. The ability upgrades? Unique to the point that I'm not sure I've seen a single one of them in another metroidvania, AND most of them with multiple hidden uses. The handholding? Nonexistent. The "intended" sequence? Hell if I know; I legit could not tell you how much of what I did on my one run so far was the path of least resistance or a sequence break.

There's just so damn much in this game that encourages you to get creative with what you have to see what works, and chances are if you can logically conceptualize something working within the bounds of the game's rules, it will, indeed, work (with or without tons of retry and maybe some luck). The result is the best metroidvania I've played in an absurdly long time, meeting my idealization of the genre in a way almost no others do.

And the fact that what I describe seems to have been a near-universal reaction among people playing it, that this game that doesn't tell you anything and expects you to get creative to progress is based? Man, oh man, I really hope metroidvania developers take note.

I think it's a good game, but I don't see why everyone was making such bold claims about it. I think it has really unique visuals and aesthetics that separate it from most other games, and that's probably it's strongest attribute. The combination of the music and ghastly visuals really contribute to make a somewhat scary otherworldly jungle of an environment, very befitting its name. The player slowly gets access to a few really interesting tools that tend to have multiple uses that you discover through experimentation, which are all pretty fun. I think the game is a short but definitely good ~5 hours. But even with the innovative multipurpose nature of the tools you get, they don't actually lead to multiple solutions for any puzzle. For anyone one puzzle there's only solution, so those seemingly hidden features of a tool just become the norm. It's level design is pretty good with overlapping routes and going over the same part of a map because you unlocked a new route, and when you got stuck it was relatively straight forward to figure out where you needed to go. The world of animal well is pretty interesting, but no one part of it sits with me long enough that I feel super invested or connected to it.

I think the game is good don't get me wrong, but is more of a sign that we should be on the watch for the developer's (and publisher's) future endeavors as this is a good first showing that only shows promise for what's to come.

a common refrain among Games People is that gameplay is paramount to a title's success and should always be placed first at the expense of everything else. I'm not so shortsighted as to think there's no merit to this line of thinking, at least in that developers should understand their priorities for the health of their game. it's understandable why this idea has gotten so popular in opposition to the Grafiks Craze of the '10s, because that method of advertising and understanding games is actually even worse. however, Animal Well is not a game that puts gameplay first. it is blisteringly obvious when you play it that the bulk of the developers' passion went into the art, animation, and sound design, culminating in an incredibly memorable journey. I had a ton of fun with this one even if I was a little too stupid for all the puzzles. I certainly won't be 100%ing it, but the sights and sounds of the ending especially will stick in my mind for quite a while.