Endwalker is something that I approached with a lot of hesitation, doubting that it had much left of its story to tell, much left of its characters to explore, much left of its world to expand. And in a way, I was right, but Endwalker’s aim isn’t to just be another stepping stone for the overarching narrative. It is as most would say a “culmination”, and it is in this idea where I feel Endwalker once again repurposes that same cognition that made Shadowbringers feel so special.

In this instance acknowledging the titular “End” which this expansion represents, both philosophically and literally. While the former is the one many find the most interest in, and deservedly so, it’s the latter which really came off to me as profound. There’s something special about XIV’s meta storytelling, Ishikawa helmed expansions in particular, that really moves me. It’s not as if these expansions intend to muse upon the nature of the relationship between game and player, or the twisted morality of typical game mechanics, rather it’s an acknowledgement of us, the players, the heroes. A self-aware recognition of the long and arduous journey we have walked, and an assurance that our journey is not over yet.

Following this notion we find in Endwalker’s deep embrace, is a trend of solemn reflection amongst its character. Ruminations on their pasts, beliefs, adventures, echoing the voice of its creators, a voice which extends the same question to us. Has our journey been good? Has it been worthwhile? Amongst the aggregate, a single answer is nigh impossible, each and every soul will provide their own story.

Yet it is this anthology that XIV champions. Each story portraying the never-ending quest of another who has braved the infinite, who continued to walk forward, and at journey’s end found an answer they can call their own.

“Was this life a gift or a burden?
Did you find fulfillment?”

revisiting this masterpiece with some close friends at a pretty emotionally vulnerable place this winter was an experience i'm not likely to forget any time soon. more than anything, i'm grateful to have had the ability to revisit such a teenage-dependent game as a burgeoning adult and value its world, characters, mechanics and stories through more experienced eyes.

i'll start things off making enemies - final fantasy gameplay has never been as engaging and exciting as it was in final fantasy viii. the difficulty of the game and how your time with it plays out is entirely dependent on your engagement, and ideas like junction-based stat boosts and enemy level scaling are GREAT ideas that keep this game feeling fresh every time. you don't HAVE to grind out magic draws, you don't HAVE to avoid levelling up, you don't HAVE to learn all those gf skills, but each time you approach the game again you're presented the option to vie for a different composition, a different strategy, a different flow of battle. last time i grinded to lv. 100 and maxed things out and it actually made certain boss encounters really intense - and i mean like, drop zell to minimal hp and hope to god i pull off limit breaks over and over to perfection intense - and i LOVED it. triple triad with friends was a joy and shifted a minigame i was aversee to engaging with something i enjoyed so much that i actually played the game with a real deck when we visited eachother last month.

uematsu's score is indicative of the tone of the title itself; experimental, off-kilter, and boundlessly passionate. "force your way" is the be-all end-all main boss theme in the series, "blue fields" is uncanny enough to leave the wilds feeling a tinge unkind and mysterious, and the various incarnations leading into the final reveal of the faye wong-featuring "eyes on me" gets me, corny as it may be, blubbering on a regular basis, THE definitive squaresoft pop ballad; "suteki da ne", eat your heart out.

i'm not really looking to open up specifically about how and why squall's story of self-expression and admittance of loneliness and aimlessness touched me on the intimate level it did, but i'll say this much - like raiden or shinji ikari, i feel these are characters widely misunderstood by people looking first and foremost to be entertained by the art they engage with, instead of being asked questions or challenged to reflect on experiences of their own. not every beat of ffviii's story is perfectly executed, but there's no squaresoft title in which that does happen (even in its predecessor, my favorite game of all time).

the critical re-evaluation of final fantasy viii by a younger crowd is a joy to watch. out with the old, finger-pointing youtube critic personas of yesteryear bitching and moaning about change and art. in with the new.

At its most fundamental the narrative of Shadowbringers feels alienating, removing us from Eorzea and placing us in a situation that’s seemingly so backwards. A world corrupted by a blinding light so strong it abolished the night, and it’s with this ambiguity of your role as the “Warrior of Light” where Shadowbringers starts to cook all of it’s mastery. Calling into question the unending battle between light and dark that plagues both the series and typical RPG’s, and using the opportunity to instead muse upon the true beating heart of conflict, heroism.

Unlike a work such as AoT which directly criticizes heroism as a shackle which forever catalyzes the endless cycle of violence, Shadowbringers endeavors to celebrate its roots and the righteousness which defines it. By reflecting upon itself through the multi-layered conflict that the lands of Norvrandt contain, we don’t only see the wide and equally personal impact of heroes, but also their necessity. Not only to protect, persevere, and save, but to inspire for our future as the ultimate symbols of both will and humanity at large.

Yet heroism isn’t reserved for just the light, just as Hydaelyn has her champion, so does Zodiark. Each with its own legacy to carry forward, its own right to fight, its own desire for happiness, its own claim to exist. Through this climactic battle of wills and morals is where XIV finds not only it’s strongest emotional beats, but a commentary that will shake anyone cognizant of modern society to their very core.

I’m purely discussing macro here though, because when observing the micro Shadowbringers has a lot of nagging issues consistent with XIV and even of its own design. Yet it’s in the aggregate where you really see the true beauty and elegance of what it was able to accomplish. Ultimately the sin eaters are no different than the Garleans or Dravanias, they are oppressors all the same, but through Norvrandt’s crisis is where XIV is finally able to illuminate its soul, You. The hero who never buckled to your oppressors and continued to keep moving forward, above man and god, towards hell and past it, only to find the answer at the end of the infinite, a glimmer of hope, everlasting.

“Fate can be cruel, but a smile better suits a hero.”

I don't know if I'm ever actually going to review either half of Umineko in here, so for the moment, just consider this at best a placeholder, at worst, just my personal check-point. It's been almost three months since my friends and I finished playing Umineko. Anyone who's read my pieces on Higurashi knows what that game was to me. Umineko sits at the top of it all for me. It's just at the top of everything I've spent my 20-odd years experiencing, the culmination of so much personal journeying, growing and experiencing. I sincerely doubt anything will knock it from its pillar anytime in any near future. What this means to me on an intimate level is something that ultimately right now belongs to my friends and I intimately. I don't know if and when I'll be comfortable sharing beyond that. That is our small world which we inhabit together. Some cat boxes are best left alone, and I think any of you would understand and respect that.

If anything, I want to really extend a lot of gratitude to Ryukishi07, to 07th Expansion and Witch Hunt, especially to the late BT, whose death and more importantly his lifelong friendship with Ryukishi clearly affected how the game evolved into what it became, to the voice cast, and to my friends for all of this. Genuinely a reason to live some days. A reason to create and imagine, every single day.

愛がなければ視えない。

the xeno series has always struck a precarious balance between it's twin influences: contemporary anime tropes, and heady paperback golden-age science fiction. xeno has always been an incredibly derivative series that - when it is good - makes up for it's complete lack of originality with it's overwhelming enthusiasm for it's influences, and I think part of my continuing disappointment with The Direction xenoblade went after X was that it stopped pulling from 2010: The Year We Make Contact with the same fervor with which it pulled from Mobile Fighter G Gundam and instead went all in on aping the sensibilities and attitudes of repulsive but incredibly successful anime like Sword Art Online and Fate: Grand Order.

Xenoblade Chronicles X then, makes one last desperate stand for the paperback sci-fi side of the equation, leaning far harder into that side of the pendulum on every level of it's design and narrative intentions than any other game in the series. The common problem running through all three currently existing Xenoblade games - besides their choice of outfits for the girls, I mean - is that they are very bad at teaching the player how to play them, and I think X might be the most egregious example. It's this, more than any other element of the game, that I think kept people from accessing what is - for my money - the most narratively and mechanically accomplished game in the entire series.

Because, like I said, XCX isn't an anime. The main plot is leisurely and slight, not much happens except at the very end, and is mostly a vehicle for allowing the player to access the real narrative meat of the game - the myriad side quests that explore the game's sci-fi ideas, the world of Mira, and it's eclectic inhabitants. If that structure sounds familiar, it's probably because you've read a few of the golden-age sci-fi novels that director Tetsuya Takahashi is clearly so fond of. Looking at the audience the series has today, and even the one built up by the original game (or LPs of said game, XC1 standing alongside Earthbound and Persona 5 as JRPGs that developed a huge fandom through the lens of one or two big streamers/youtubers rather than solely the game itself) I don't think it's unreasonable to make the claim that many fans who derided XCX for "not having a story" didn't exactly have the framework to engage with this approach, and it's a shame the game didn't do enough to ease them into it.

In terms of writing, X is the best Xenoblade game. I don't even think it's close. It's certainly the most thematically ambitious, with the weirdest, thorniest ideas, and least reliant on characters constructed wholesale from clichés. I like quite a few characters in Xenoblade 1, but do I find any of them interesting? Not really. They're broadly-drawn cartoon people, and they work in that context, but XCX has characters that I thought quite deeply about, characters whose inner lives were compelling to me. it's themes are unique and compelling, exploring what "humanity" as a concept could mean divorced from our past lives, our home planet, and even our very bodies. The Mimeosome is the entire Xenoseries' best idea, a frighteningly rich concept that pairs beautifully with the questions mecha so often raises about the relationship between the self, the body, and the society in which it inhabits. But almost all of this is in the side-quests and heart-to-hearts, or doled out in piecemeal over an absurdly long game, and I can't exactly blame people for not getting to that stuff. XCX makes it difficult to access the parts of itself that are truly remarkable, and that's such a shame.

The combat system is the same: it has truly cavernous depth and options and customization, but by the end of my original over 150 Hour-long playthrough, I felt like I had only just got a handle on the tangled web of systems and mechanics and stats. It doesn't so much as throw you into the deep end but throw you into the mariana trench. But once you do crack it? Once you have an armory of Skells tooled out with well-thought out builds, each named and given color-schemes after your favorite mechs? It feels incredible. XCX is a majestic mechanical mountain to climb, and while the view from the top is incredible, I could have done with a few ski-lifts on the way up here.

I completely understand why people dislike this game, why it was almost uniformly seen as a steep downgrade from it's predecessor, and why, with a sense of palpable resignation, the influence pendulum was swung completely back to Full Anime for future instalments. But I can't help but love this game. It's ideas are so genuinely thought-provoking that, half a decade after I wrapped up my playthrough, I still find myself turning it over in my head, thinking about what it tried to say and what it tried to do. The post-credits scene is maybe my favorite one in any video game or film, and completely set my mind on fire with it's implications both for a phantom Xenoblade Chronicles Double X and the adventure that just lay behind me. It's a deeply flawed game, one that could be improved immensely, but it will always have my heart, over it's more straightforwardly numbered siblings. It represents best the wild, wrongheaded, idiotic ambition that defines why I still, on some level, care about Xenogames, even if I think they have about a 50/50 track record at this point of Good to Total Shit, even if they will never, ever be normal about women, because I can't help but look at X and think "shine on, you crazy motherfucker".

I love it. I love being a BLADE!

Oh and the soundtrack rips so fucking hard you have no idea. Easily the best of the three, as long as you aren't someone who's phone is full of "EPIC ANIME BATTLE MUSIC" mp3s!! All those who think the NLA themes are bad are weak and will not survive the winter

If Tetsuya Takahashi wanted to end Future Redeemed in a way to satisfy fans in the beyond after XC3's incredible ending. Well spark, my dude. You exceeded my expectations and then some. As a fan of the Xeno games since the time of Xenogears. Future Redeemed encompasses all the necessary callbacks, references, easter eggs, and precious moments we were waiting for.

I was captivated by the countless affinity scenes(moments you can see out in the world without any level or party member requirement) that struck me the most with the experience of all the past Xenoblade Chronicles games. And while, I wish there were even more to the point of fan service. I understand why Monolith Soft didn’t do so. It’s a delicate thread to balance for the fans to an extent they will be satisfied without over-gorging too much. And yet I am astounded at how great these scenes I saw within the expansion that evoked a sense of satisfaction. Some were bittersweet, some heartwarming, and some I couldn’t help but be amused at the sheer cheekiness. It is Xenoblade through and through. So you will experience a wide range in the emotional spectrum.

Gameplay didn’t change much like in Torna. The Xenoblade 3 combat system makes a welcome return, with the addition of unity combos and unity setups to mix things up a bit. Familiar and a mix of unfamiliar systems in place to capture player interest more into the gameplay-focus of Xenoblade. I thought the systems were decent. Didn’t need to go too complex or too simple. There is plenty of customization here as well. And I felt the tutorials do a good job explaining the old and new mechanics. Music as expected of Monolith Soft's composer team hits all the right notes. Players will recognize familiar tracks and new tracks.

I greatly appreciate the interconnected zones here, than in Torna due to the implementation of an increase in platforming and secrets. It’s not as deep as the intricate layers you see in Dark Souls. But zones flow seamlessly into other regions you will traverse and I found them to be a good length to explore and fight in. It’s not super large; to the extent you need to spend ‘x’ hours to reach one end of a zone into another zone. There is careful thought and precision by Monolith to make beautiful environments and secrets worth finding feel natural as past Xenoblade games were designed. And the expansion flourishes as a result. You do have new field mechanics to play around with, to reach new areas like repairing broken ladders. And other methods which I won’t say since it's better to experience that in-game. But suffice it to say I had fun exploring once again in Future Redeemed just like the past entries. Including X.

One last bit of praise. It is an absolute pleasure once again to see two familiar characters. There are so many moments, I have wished so hard in the past to witness and it has come to fruition now in Future Redeemed. So their presence creates a new dynamic I don't often see in Jrpg's or DLC expansions.

Moving on, while I consider the expansion excellent. There were some things that did tickle my mixed feelings. I don’t consider it a positive or a negative, but for the sake of transparency, I'm noting the qualities to let readers know ahead of time.

Certain unlocks for the characters you play are locked behind some side quests and through exploration, in secret areas, and opening relic chests. These will unlock gem unlocks, accessories, affinity growth charts, and arts. several can be easy to spot and therefore unlock whatever the above for each character at your leisure. But a small to decent chunk can be a bit tricky to spot. By the endgame, I had mostly everyone’s slots unlocked. With only a couple of my party members features locked since I wasn’t as thorough in exploring everything. Despite the fact I cleared 90%+ of every zone and completed I would say 95% of all sidequests. So this mix of forcing the player to unlock their innate features for each character feels a bit forced to make players explore. This is fine for me because I love to explore, except I also want to get most of my party member's abilities and features through natural-based progression. Meaning when a new chapter begins. Release a third of my parties accessories, arts, gems, and affinity growth charts locked status. I can understand why Monolith Soft tried to shake things up with this approach to encourage exploration which is worth seeing. Except for me, I’m left shaking my head at the potential my party could’ve had naturally instead of being forced to explore.

Secondly, I am flabbergasted by an important scene that was not properly labeled on the map with a giant exclamation point or affinity scene after witnessing a story cutscene in chapter 4. Which revealed massive lore context we needed from XC3. Without going into spoilers too much. Visit someone's(not going to say the name of the character’s) workshop after viewing the story cutscene on a mountain(located at a high elevation) in chapter 4. This will happen naturally, but players need to go back to the workshop to notice the scene. The map does not display it. Hopefully, this is a bug and the developers missed it. But as a Xeno lore dude, I'm shaking my head, if people miss the scene. So please don’t forget about checking the workshop!

Another point of mixed feeling would’ve been further time to flesh out two characters. Not going to say names, since this is a non-spoiler review. But, I consider two of the cast within the expansion, somewhat needing extra development and cutscenes to shine. There are familiar cast members that kinda take out the spotlight from the two characters and as a result, they don’t shine as much in my eyes. While understandable due to other characters' sheer presence, I think additional affinity scenes could’ve been used to delve deeper into the bonds of our party and create a cohesive party at hand. Thereby, allowing the cast to bond thoroughly and make the endgame stand out a just a little bit larger.

Not a nitpick at the endgame chapters. Since I consider it a fitting farewell to the trilogy. The expansion has the weight and reach of the first game. The grand presence of the second game and the lessons learned from Torna in creating side quests that are not needed to progress through the story by community levels. Expands what we already know in the third game, Delving deep into the missing context and cues we so desperately needed and wished for. And I would say the developers delivered so much. It is exactly what I needed from Takahashi and his team. The connection of the past and future is connected, all while capturing the wonderful magic that is unique in every Xeno game. With a great main cast and soulful music once again struck me deep in the heart. Satisfying gameplay loop and worthwhile cutscenes every Xeno series fan needs to experience. It’s been an incredible journey seeing how far they’ve come since the first Xenoblade game and from the time of Xenogears. For any Xeno series fan. This expansion is easily a must-play. And for us long-time fans since Gears and Saga. One to not miss out on.

9/10

Edit: Grammar and replacing repeated words
Edit 2: On my 2nd point above regarding a scene not being labeled properly. It actually is labeled on the map. The point of interest is covered by a hammer icon. Thanks to my friend @TehLostOne for the correction.

A story that deals with tragedy, along with self-loathing, mistakes and pain and how these characters deal with it. A gloomy and oppressive atmosphere that's on point. This is psychological horror at its finest.

To me this game was more psychological than scary. Some moments were tense, yes, but it was definitely more of a mind bender which I personally enjoy way more than mindless gore and jumpscares.

The voice acting wasn't the best but the game certainly made up for it with its narration, details, music and use of sounds.

It's funny how the best Zelda stories arise when the developers aren't forced to adhere to the core formula. It was true for Link's Awakening, but I'd say doubly so for Majora's Mask. Nowhere else in the entire series can one find a tale so steeped in misery and despair. There is no battle against the traditional, powerhungry evil. The antagonist has motives that are almost incomprehensible in how simple they appear, and this, combined with the stakes being much higher, creates a level of tension unheard of in other Zelda's.

It's no secret that this game is a miracle just for existing, but it's even more one when thinking about how flawless it acts as a sequel in addition to a standalone game. To allow for more (read: all) assets to be pulled from Ocarina of Time, the entire setting is shrouded in mystery. What is Termina? Certainly not just a neighboring country, yet it comes with too much history to be comparable to Koholint. The visuals, just as weird as in OoT, actually benefits this setting more than the former, and then there's the sequel tie-ins. Centering the premise around the most creepy sidecharacter in OoT, using the predecessor's ending as the main character's motivation for being there for the inciting incident, there is an eerie level of cohesion in how the two games are connected that makes it all feel planned.

It's almost a waste to talk about the music, it's flawless. I'd say it ranks beneath OoT in level of iconicness only, as there is just as much love to find in the individual pieces in this game. Deku Palace, Song of Healing, Final Hours, Majora's Theme, it's a testament to Kondo's talent that this isn't his finest work to date.

I'm not even sure where to begin talking about the rest of the game, because it's such a thematic monolith it's hard to find a stepping stone. With the gameplay perhaps. Practically identical to OoT at it's core, yet with more than enough new mechanics to have its own identity. The transformation masks were a stroke of genius, allowing for easy inclusion of more complex puzzles without the hassle of pacing a game with multiple items in mind. It's almost shocking how much mileage the game gets out of each and every upgrade you are given. This has much to do with the dungeons themselves, and how well-designed they are. Sure, Great Bay and Stone Tower are a bit of a hassle to maneuver around in, but each and every one has both a strong visual identity and a smooth pacing that make them all feel rewarding. The place they stumble the most is with the bossfights, but at that point the player is too worked up to look past the goal now in sight.

All Zelda games feel good to play, at least the big ones. Where Majora's Mask truly shines is the characters, and the small stories they're involved in. The crown jewel is obviously the Couple's quest, but even outside of that, the amount of heart and care poured into the small tales of humanity across the land is staggering. Even characters with no quest attached to them get enough personality to not stick out, and the more complex stories are filled to the brim with both despair and hope. It's immensely compelling to witness the various people in Termina react to the end of the world, and almost every facet of human emotion in the face of doom is brought forth and examined to some degree. Some of the quests do feel a little artificial in how you progress them, but it's the stuff the characters do themselves that remains the true soul of this game.

It's easy to bring out "characters" and "gameplay" as positives, but there is something truly unique about MM that I don't think can be fully attributed to either. The timeloop is so harsh, so constant, one cannot simply ignore it the way one ignores central threats in other games. There is a feeling of hopelessness in knowing that no matter what you accomplish, how much good do, noone will remember you for it. Your journey is not one of the prophetic hero, but the silent one, the one who does good even when he recieves no praise and will be immortilized in no songs or legends. The resets done by the song of time always sting, but each time you do it your resolve is strengthened. Your will to see the task through to the end grows and grows, until you stand before the villain once again to deliver them from this world. And then at the end, you are given just a morsel of permanence in the world, carved into a tree by the only one who understands what you have been through.

I have little left to add about Majoras Mask to be honest. It's tragic and heartfelt, pessimistic and hopeful, it blends traditional dungeon exploration with character driven stories in a more effective way than any of its peers, it culminates in what is probably the most ethereal endgame ever created, it's a marvel of both game design and storytelling, it evokes a monstrous sense of duty to the people around you, even if it costs you everything. If you look past the flaws brought on by technical limitations it's second to none, both in the context of Zelda and the bigger gaming landscape. All-time classic.

Cing's DS output are the type of games you encounter once in a lifetime. Never again will you get a game with a faux-noir narrative with marvelously animated characters presented in the style of a notebook. Nevermore will you get a Nintendo published game that handles people struggling to keep up this facade of them living this average, normal life while they're still aimlessly wandering through life in hopes of maybe finding a way to put their baggage to rest, all to the tone of a nice, jazzy soundtrack. Even if you do manage to find a mystical game that also happens to excel on all these fronts, this imaginary game will never grapple with the same level of pure ingenuity and confidence that is practically bursting out of the seams in some of Cing's works. Cing, and Hotel Dusk especially, does not deserve to be lost to the annals of time. Hotel Dusk, in all its innocent tenaciousness, is an experience that will forever be etched into my memory.

Cing's works tend to blend in with the rest of the DS' absurdly good third-party titles; and while this isn't necessarily a fault, the historic context behind the game sheds some light on how this seemly out-of-nowhere game sticks the landing with flying colors. Hotel Dusk's scenario writer Rika Suzuki is a lady that has had her hand in a lotta pies throughout the decades. From assisting on the production of Dragon Quest I through IV, to pioneering the adventure game genre with the successful J.B. Harold series, Suzuki has always been an influential force within the industry. This is why, from the perspective of Japanese audiences, Cing's foray into the DS represented a new beginning for an established game designer.

With the advent of the DS, Suzuki saw an opportunity to capitalize on her stock of experience and wisdom. With the unconventional nature of Nintendo's brand new handheld and the low-production costs of designing for said platform, Suzuki saw a chance to experiment with the adventure game genre from an unexplored angle. Thankfully Nintendo would see eye to eye with Suzuki's ambitions to an extent. They too saw the implications of the dual-screen setup of their latest handheld, and they more than willing to publish the game so Cing's ideas could come to fruition. This is how Hotel Dusk came to captivate so many unsuspecting DS owners, it's a game, unlike anything else Nintendo has published in the west, not only founded on top of a well of iteration and refinement but a game that's more than enthusiastic about taking full advantage of its unique platform.

However, it'd be disingenuous to solely put the spotlight on Suzuki when Hotel Dusk's director and character animator supervisor Taisuke Kanasaki's phenomenal art direction that really sold audiences on the world of Hotel Dusk. The stylistic boldness of Hotel Dusk's character portraits are not to go unnoticed. Kanasaki's rotoscoped, sketchy character portraits have an awing level of veracity to them. The subtle, small shift in facial annotation and posture establishes this living quality throughout the cast, and it's these same portraits that wordlessly communicate a melting pot of complex emotions these characters have to battle with as the truth and their insecurities claws its way into the light.

In a game as exceptional as Hotel Dusk though, where there's style there's substance, and Cing's down-to-earth, intimate universe has more than enough substance. Hotel Dusk has the foundations of your standard noir work, but this presentation acts an inventive illusion to a deeply interpersonal game. Hell, the game intentionally plays with this with its main character, a former detective turned door-to-door salesman, deceiving noir-esque jacket. The real meat of Hotel Dusk lies in the residents of the shabby, rattletrap Hotel Dusk. Over the course of your exhaustive, one night stay at Hotel Dusk, you will be deconstructing these characters' lives bit by bit, not to expose and critique the core of these characters' baggage, not to get to the bottom of some grand conspiracy, but in order to make amends with your own troubling past.

While you do eventually get to the bottom of a grand conspiracy, this happens more as a result of the cast collectively striving to find a resolution to their shattered past. In defiance to their seemly normal outward demeanor, all these characters are suffering; desperately yet aimlessly pursuing the truth of the days gone by so they can finally break free of their shackles. Hotel Dusk is brimming with people holding regrets, insecurities, trauma, and guilt and they're all brewing to be stirred before the dawn of the new decade.

Where would Hotel Dusk be though, without the constant hum of its understated soundtrack? Composer Satoshi Okubo produced a score oozing with variety and his memorable melodies enrich every moment it decorates. The music never quite oversteps what's happening on screen, instead it comfortably settles into the mood constructed by the script and art direction. The cast's off-beat banter is coated in a layer of swingy electric, the subdued investigation segments are laced in this soothing bossa nova sound, and with each moment of tension, the game sings its heart out and boasters the emotions of the prevailing scene.

With all this in mind though, I can assuredly say Hotel Dusk wouldn't be remembered as the brilliant gem it is today if it was propped by its ingenious presentation that exploits every avenue a dual, touch screen handheld mounts. Hotel Dusk challenges you to discard all petty preconceptions of what video games can do and forces you to hold your DS in the same vein as a notebook, packaged with a handy left-handed and right-handed mode of course. As with your usual adventure game affair, the player is constantly confronted with an assortment of puzzles, halting your progression until you sit down and solve them.

Except with Hotel Dusk, solving puzzles and investigating isn't a conventionally fair of solving riddles, cracking number codes, or deciphering messages. No, instead you will be whittling down notes in your notebook, locksmithing your suitcase with a wire, and revolving a cardboard box around to find a secret letter. While these puzzles aren't brainteasers, their novelty is exceptionally striking and a good portion of them never overstay their welcome. Unfortunately, as with many physically unconventional games, this comes at the consequence of the experience being diluted on anything but original hardware. Many of the game's head-scratchers lose all of their intuitiveness once you drop them out of the context playing on original hardware confides them in. It's a damn shame, but it just goes to show how Hotel Dusk is, bar none, one of the most distinctive experiences you can get your hands on.

Yet, while Cing's confidence is deserving of great praise and respect, it sometimes comes at the cost of breaking the game's cohesion. When you're working with an unconventional gameplay device, you have to offer some leeway to the player. There has to be enough information to invoke an intuition within their head, leading to them cracking the mystery. Some puzzles in Hotel Dusk break that code of law unfortunately. Every so often, the game contests you with a puzzle that are at least ten degrees more out there compared to the game's usual roadblocks. I would welcome these riddles with a warm embrace if it the game attempted to offer enough contextual information to trigger an intuitive, finally leading you to crack the secret. More often than not, I would solve these puzzles by sheer accident rather than me wrecking my brain, and puzzles of that nature are less satisfying and more anticlimactic. These moments break the established pace of the game, and by extension tragically fractures an otherwise smooth-sailing, immersive experience.

It dismays me that these rare few puzzles aren't the only blemishes on Hotel Dusk's journey and that sometimes the investigating itself turns the game into a monotonous, disconnected experience. At times will find yourself directionlessly roaming around the hotel, entering each and every room and interacting with every little nook and cranny in hopes of finally triggering an event flag. Kyle has something to say about little detail in the you choose to engage with, which quickly transitions from charming to annoying when compounded by Hotel Dusk's painfully slow default text crawl.

It's even more heartbreaking how the game's already numerous pacing issues are exaggerated even further by the forced game's absurdly out-of-place end-of-chapter summary quizzes. These quizzes aren't as aggravating as the other flaws presented, especially given that you have to try to fail at them at times, but their very existence is profoundly baffling. These quizzes often pertain to information that doesn't have any real significance to the game on a thematic level, sometimes even on a plot level, and they feel noticeably out of place in a game where the overarching conflict isn't even the focus. Conjoined by the fact that there are already chapter summaries right in the main character's notebook, the decision to include the segments is just utterly dumbfounding.

Now, with all my aforementioned frustrations, do I still recommend Hotel Dusk? Yes, in fact, I cannot recommend it enough. My grievances with some of its game design decisions does not change how remarkably well every facet of Hotel Dusk comes together to form such a cohesive, unique experience. I fell in love with so many aspects of this game, and it has made me break down and cry and feel for these characters. It's truly a one-of-a-kind game and I am begging you, even if you only have a passing interest in the game, to at least give it a chance before the game becomes inaccessible. No amount of words will be able to articulate how much Hotel Dusk has changed my perspective on the power of handheld games, and the possibilities of video games that are yet to be seen.