Not particularly enamored with this one although I can certainly understand why many are, since it allows for those kinds of conversations that frequently feel impossible in 2023, the kind where you and your friends or coworkers come together to talk for hours about the choices you made at a particular juncture and what happens if you pick option C instead of option B, you know what I mean - conversations that are much rarer when a modern game's sense of mystery can be completely dispelled within 10 hours by front page reddit posts and scores of "articles" reducing each dialogue prompt to Baldur's Gate 3: How To Get THE BEST Companion Cutscenes. The #general chat in my Discord server has people I haven't spoken to in years coming out of the woodwork to talk about the results of character creation, about the companions they've romanced and killed, about all the ways their characters lost an eye, and they all seem pretty content with the breadth of discoveries that this game enables.

For my first 20 hours, I was basically the same - there's a lot of fun to be had in poking around these early areas with the horniest party of all time (despite that fact) and chatting with rats, cats, and dead guys. In these early chapters the game best supports my preferred playstyle: a big circuitous route around the map, looking at everything as I drive past but only stopping to drink deeply from a select few side stories. Push further into the main story, though, and find yourself woefully underleveled because you grew tired of these fights 10 hours ago. It's never so difficult as to completely block you from progressing, but it's easy to feel that your punishment for not seeking out each and every side quest is being forced to initiate every fight from the (admittedly cumbersome) stealth or spend the whole fight herding enemies into a big circle so you can use your Level 3 AOE Spell of choice to meme the encounters until they're finished. I have no experience with D&D or this particular ruleset aside from other video games, but the adherence to such a system and its limits are obvious when you spend forty hours playing this game just to unlock a single cast of a spell that these developers would've given you immediately in their last game. It's a pace that works pretty well for weekly tabletop adventures with a group of IRL friends, but feels a bit too slow and unrewarding when I'm sitting alone, staring at a menu of unappetizing "roll advantage"/"create difficult terrain" spells as a reward for my once-nightly level-up.

What's kept me playing are the settings and companions - the mind flayers are arguably the least interesting part of this whole deal, so while it sucks that the main plot so prominently revolves around them, the side quests are generally well-crafted enough that one or two of them would be a satisfying enough adventure to fill the entire night on their own. I do wish that the companions would Talk Normally for five minutes but they've done well enough in telling some of the companion stories (Gale is a particular standout) that they can create genuinely affecting moments if you look in the right places. Not all of them are told so well, and some of the companions feel deeply artificial as a result, but generally speaking I can understand why a player might recruit any given companion not named Lae'zel to their party. For the most part, I'm also fond of the party chatter - every once in a while you'll get a nice bit of banter that feels like the result of actual role-playing with friends, whether it's a joke or a short flavorful exchange revealing how two companions interact or a story that fleshes out someone's background. It's not as personal as it could be if it were your real friends bantering with you, but it's a fun approximation and it's deployed tastefully.

Ultimately my grade for the experience is a big ol' shrug and the word "Sure?" written exactly like so. I think the lipstick looks fantastic even if it fails to produce miracles for the pig that is 5th edition rules, with its awkward magic system and glacial level progression and a litany of boring buffs. Compared to the average person I'd be considered a "hater" of Divinity Original Sin 2 but it felt so colorful compared to this! I love killing bosses by shoving them into a pit as much as the next guy, but much of this experience feels like the developers are skillfully wringing every drop of charisma that they can from the source material and hoping that the player doesn't notice that "the chill druid left and now the mean druid is being mean, go fetch the chill druid" feels a little trite. I'll be doing my best to hit the end credits, but if I don't make it, know that I'm probably out there starting a new save on Tyranny instead.

I've said a lot of times elsewhere that this is pretty much the Bad Boys II of games, but that's not exactly true. For one it's not even close to as good as Bad Boys II, nor does it have the same degree of genuine nihilism for people in completely muted and brutal discontent. And honestly I tend to steer clear of nihilistic works so what would I really be saying there? But the big modicum of truth there is that MW2, for all its ills it brought to the rest of the CoD franchise as the biggest tone turning point in the series after WaW, is the strongest encapsulation of Michael Bay in the medium.

On a surface level that's clearly true, with just every mission working at a breakneck pace between explosion-laid action sequences with a whole cast of bro-team unlikeable jerks peaking at the end in a suicide mission with a captain of war crimes and a cleaning tool. It's almost completely rancid, having its infamous massacre be a gratuitous controversy generator as well as a main strike for its core conflict. In these ways it fully emulates that violent and heavy narrative scape Michael Bay's movies constantly demonstrate, with the real lack of love for anything humanity included. I don't say this as a bad thing either, and I do mean to say that MW2 is fully genuine in a lot of parts too. Probably the most memorable and visually striking part of the game is when the EMP blows, and you're simply forced to move through a completely quiet destroyed area of all the Washington DC iconography, with only the gunfire and debris muting your footsteps.

It's wildly memorable from start to finish, with nary a mission I can't completely walk through fully in my mind, and honestly I don't have one I really dislike much either. The gameplay beneath the stuff I praise here though is nothing special. I'm pushing that MW2 punches above its weight somewhat by accident but I'm not going to throw my body to the fire that is general stop and pop. I think in a few missions it gets some matching hype mileage out of particular gimmicks, especially the snowmobile section, but it's fairly malaise. The developers are somewhat knowledgeable of this to where most of the ops missions you get afterward are more gimmicky but they're not that interesting I'd argue either, and generally the most forgettable part of the whole experience.

But the multiplayer lives on another plane of reality altogether. It's pure condensed fucking mayhem. It's extremely unbalanced complete trash with extraordinarily busted options and hilariously uneven map design. And it's my favorite multiplayer of all of the series entirely for that reason. When everyone else is using disgusting trash the pretense of seriousness is fully gone, the assumptions of what a shooter or multiplayer should be are gone, and instead everyone devolves into that mayhem. The era of MW2 dominating machinima and elsewhere was a real wonderful moment of complete monkey craziness, culminating in MOM GET THE CAMERA.

Ok I've waxed enough prose on MW2 I just think that the period of calling it when COD went to shit or an extremely inferior work to MW1 gets on my nerves. Weird reason to write this I suppose but I think MW2's accidents are the most interesting thing about it, and also why it's so timeless.

My original review was removed. I guess my message wasn't clear enough when I told Activision/Blizzard to eat my ass.

This is a bad game made by a bad company. It is basically an update of the original (as it completely replaces it) and serves no purpose but trying to hide the rampant system of abuse taking place within the company by throwing the media coverage back onto this. I can't even call them allegations because they've been proven. . If you enjoy the game that's fine, but it is simply just a watered down form of the original that doesn't update, improve or innovate it in any meaningful way and is simply a distraction for a larger issue.

Eat my ass, Activision/Blizzard

Doesn't make a whole lot of sense actually? Now that I'm coming with the correct context of ME1, ME2 does a lot of weird shit. Like, why am I automatically working with Cerberus, an actual terrorist organization that has done actual crimes? It's such a bizarre decision to strongarm Shephard into working with them despite how pro-cooperative and pro-alien you can be in ME1. And why would Joker work with them as well? I didn't talk to Joker much in ME1 but working with actual terrorists is such a jump for him even if the Alliance is doing their bureaucratic bullshit. Like, Cerebrus isn't just some rebel/outlaw faction that Sidesteps Democratic Insufficiency, they've literally attempted a hijacking of a Quarian ship and bombed it. I get the game is going full hard-on with this jingoist fantasy of Special Operatives Who Always Get The Job Done, but this is so far gone. It'd be like if you had a game about an American War Hero in the Iraq War, and then in the sequel you found out the War Hero is resurrected and being supplied by ISIS. Except Cerberus has far-less justification than Middle Eastern terrorism. Just a bizarre narrative decision.

I'll accept the sideswiping of working with Cerebrus--the game tries its hardest to assuage Paragon players that they're just working with Cerebrus, not actually under Cerebrus; a pretty meaningless distinction but fine, maybe there's a larger narrative point the writers want to hit and having Paragons work with Cerebrus was the best way to do that. What I don't get as readily is the wild swings in everything else that happens in the game. You have Mordin over here who's pretty unshaken by having participated in the Krogan Genophage Project, so there's that can of worms again; then over here you have Miranda who's just a pandora box of genetic modification, perfectionism, and inadequacy schemas, so there's that character arc; then you have Jack who also has her share of inadequacy schemas and as well as lot of weird codification by the writers to have her be this 'abused' or 'damaged goods' bad girl archetype; Jacob is the 'sane one', which is okay, but it feels kinda weird that they gave the black character a lack of interiority but whatever. And then you have the batshit DLC characters Zaeed and Kasumi with their own short but strangely excessive plotlines as well. Now having all this in your game is fine, my question is: what's the point?

The personal traumas at play with the characters here are fine, and they should be explored, but what's the connection between any of them? In ME1 all the lore about the Krogan Genophage, the Reapers, the Protheans, the Alliance, the Council, the romance options, squad decisions, etc. all lead to the central question of the game: how should human civilization interact with aliens? Whether we should integrate on our hands and knees, be cordial but maintain our own interest, or assert dominance is all up to the player's Shephard. And the game tries to provide evidence for and against all three different paths using both the history of the world and what happens on your quest to defeat Saren. Even small design decisions like having to buy non-Human armor for your squad can help players express how willing or unwilling they are towards accommodating aliens. Now, you can think the way Mass Effect 1 goes about these connections makes the game overall more tedious to play, or that the way the actual event-by-event plot moves is not entertaining, but there's a far more cohesive narrative in that game than in this one. There's a cohesive sense of edginess and grittiness in ME2, reinforced by the moral ambiguities, Cerberus, the 'suicide mission', setting a lot of the conflict outside the Council's jurisdiction, the more urban and oppressive combat settings versus the open plains and industrial rooms of ME1, etc. It's a coherent and understandable tonal shift, but what is this tonal shift saying? And that's probably my biggest problem with ME2--it's in many ways less tedious than ME1, but it's not saying anything compelling, which makes it a good bit more boring to me than its already rather sterile predecessor.

Expressiveness is the quality that defines roleplaying games: they’re judged by how freely players can assert themselves in a reactive space. Players want to convey their personality and make choices, but while these are the obvious core concepts of the genre, Baldur’s Gate 3 has proven to me that they’re not what makes an RPG great. Having the capacity to make decisions is certainly a necessity, but decisions only matter when players care about the outcomes. Choices surround us in every moment of our lives, but most vanish from our minds within seconds for that very reason; they’re so emotionally inconsequential as to be hardly worthy of notice. So, more fundamental than allowing for choice is providing a real adventure in which to make those choices, and defining a journey which has players encountering challenges, learning, changing, and overcoming. This is the critical component which Baldur’s Gate fails to establish, most glaringly from its narrative structure.

(Minor spoilers through act 2)
In the opening cutscene, your character has a mindflayer tadpole inserted into their head, so your call to adventure is getting it out. This is fine in itself, but the game is quick to tell you that there’s no urgency to this task, relieving you of the burden of care. Every quest you receive to accomplish this goal, across the first ~22 hours of gameplay, results in failure where your party just sorta gives up. It takes another ten hours before the main villains are established, a stale group of evil zealots of evil gods who just love being evil, pursuing an agenda which players can't feel meaningfully aligned against. The simplicity of the central narrative gives the impression it’s just supposed to be a foundation for a character-driven story, but the interpersonal aspect is similarly lacking. In what feels like a symptom of the game's long stay in early-access, your companions put their love and trust in you in act 1, before anyone’s had the chance to organically develop relationships or encounter life-changing struggles. Characters don’t have the time and space to have an arc, and you don’t get the chance to express yourself alongside them, you simply skip to the end for an immediate and vacuous payoff. There’s no journey here, you’re simply being presented with scenes from an adventure without actually going on one.

The same can be said for the mechanics, even when they’re lifted from the tabletop game, thanks to a design philosophy where every playstyle is thoroughly accommodated. This seems like a good strategy in a genre where players want to assert themselves, but the refusal to challenge players leaves unique approaches feeling irrelevant. Even with a party led by a Githyanki barbarian, with very little in the way of charisma, intelligence, or skill, there was never a time I couldn’t overcome a situation in an optimal way. I could pick whatever locks I wanted, disarm whatever traps I wanted, circumvent any barrier I wanted; the game never asked me to think ahead or prepare. I didn’t have to be ready with certain spells or proficiencies, it never demanded more than following a clear path. Even if it did, the cheap respecs mean that you’re a maximum of 400 gold away from having a team perfectly suited to the task at hand, and even if you don’t end up using that option, knowing that your choices are so impermanent is a detriment to any feeling of growth.

That’s the key here: growth. My characters leveled up, but I don't feel like they grew. I traveled, but I don’t feel like I went on a journey. I made choices, but I don’t feel like I went in new directions. After a fifty-hour playthrough, all I remember was that I chilled out, ran around some nice maps, and managed my inventory. I spent all that time relaxing well enough, but I didn’t overcome challenge, feel much, or learn anything. All I could confidently state that the game did for me is live up to its basic selling point, of being an adventure I could take at home, a journey where I go nowhere.

Far too early to speak on this with any authority, but some early thoughts:

• As with Divinity: Original Sin 2 the potential for roleplay immediately crumbles if not playing as an origin character. Especially damning since they are all locked into a specific class and race except for the Dark Urge.

• Dialogue options being marked by skill checks and background tags deflates them. It would be more fitting for certain options to have the checks/tags but not convey this to the player until it is time to roll. If I see an option tied to my one-of-like-six background choices, I effectively have to pick it so I can get Inspiration. As for the checks, I can prep the face of the party with Guidance, Charm Person, Friends, what have you. Which itself leads into...

• Despite being a four-member party game, the other three characters might as well not exist for the purposes of dialogue. If you're lucky you'll see one of the origin characters milling about in the background of a conversation, but the person/people I'm playing with are forced to listen and suggest options. So just like with real 5E, it's best to have one person do all the talking since only one person can anyways, further displacing non-faces from the story they are meant to be involved in.

• Origin characters all talk like they're YouTubers, falling into a pillow at the end of a sentence, a permanent vocal sneer tainting each word (except for Gale). There is no space for subtlety in their characterisation either, their MacGuffins and driving purposes laid so bare like the Hello Neighbour devs trying to get MatPat's attention.

• Without a DM to actually intervene, to interpret the players' wishes, anything requiring interpretation is simply gone. Nearly every spell that isn't a very simple effect or damage dealer? Absent. This leaves players with options for what colour of damage they want to do, or what one specific action they might like to take. Creativity spawning from these bounds is incidental, not intentional.

• The worst part of 5E, its combat, is not improved in the slightest here, and if anything is actively worse. One of the great benefits of the tabletop setting is that the numbers are obfuscated. Statblocks need not be adhered to. Players typically don't know the raw numbers of a creature's health or saves unless they clue in through what rolls succeed for saves, or keep a mental tally of damage done before the DM says they are bloodied. The DM has the option of disclosing information, but here the player is forced to know everything. Every resistance. Every hit point. Every stat point. Every ability. Combat cannot be creative as a result because the whole of its confines are known the entire time. You even know the percentage chance you have to hit every spell and attack. It makes it all hideously boring.

• If spells are going to be one and done boring nothingburgers, the least Larian could have done was not have some of them, like Speak with the Dead, be tied to a cutscene that tells me a corpse has nothing to say. I get it, the random goblin body I found probably isn't a font of lore, but do you need to take me into a scripted sequence of my character making a concerned face with their fingers to their temple as I am told for the eighteenth time that it has nothing for me.

• When spells are being learned, there is no indication as to which are rituals and which are not, nor are there options to sort or filter choices. With so few choices maybe it doesn't matter.

• Despite a bevy of supplementary sourcebooks giving players countless options for their characters, you're stuck with primarily the base text. Perhaps it would be unrealistic to wish for every subclass, every spell, every feat, but not knowing this narrow scope beforehand meant my hopes for, for example, a College of Glamour Bard or a Hexblade Warlock were dashed. Without the spells that make those subclasses interesting, however, I suppose they might as well be absent.

• The 'creative solutions' of stacking boxes to climb a wall or shooting a rope holding a rock over someone's head are not creative, they are blatantly intended and serve only to make the player feel smart for being coerced by the devs into a course of action.

• The folks eager to praise Larian for not including DLC seem to have missed the Digital Deluxe upgrade that gives you cosmetics and tangible benefits in the form of the Adventurer's Pouch.

• As touched upon by others, the devs are clearly more invested in giving players the option to make chicks with dicks and dudes with pussies than they are in actual gender representation. This binarism only exacerbates how gendered the characters are. With no body options besides "Femme, Masc, Big Femme, Big Masc" and whether you're shaven and/or circumcised, the inclusion of a Non-Binary option becomes laughable if not insulting. Gender is expressed and experienced in countless ways, but here it comes down to your tits (or lack thereof) and your gonads. No androgynous voice options. No breast sizes. No binders. No gaffs. No packing. The only ways for me to convey to fellow players that my character is anything besides male or female are my outright expression of my gender, to strip myself bare, or hope the incongruity between my femme physique and masc voice impart some notion of gender queering. Maybe this is great for binary trans men and women, but as a non-binary person it comes across as a half-measure that seeks to highlight my exclusion from this world. More cynically, this, alongside Cyberpunk 2077 read as fetishistic, seeing the trans body as something for sexual gratification, rather than just that, a body.

I'll keep playing it, but damn if my eyes aren't drifting towards playing a real CRPG for the first time.

So, here's the thing. This game's story is good. Like, really good. P3 has, easily, the best and most fleshed-out party of any Persona game. Every single member contributes something unique to the story's themes (Aegis), some of them start out strong and stay on that high for the whole ride (Mitsuru), some of them evolve and change in really tangible ways (Akihiko), and some of them even manage to tug on your heartstrings in spite of their comparatively-minimal screentime (Shinjiro). One of them even winds up being the best character in the series (Yukari). P3's themes of death, catharsis, and playing with God are immaculately tied into the events and overall tone of the plot, and if you just focus on the events of the main plot, Persona 3 and The Answer is such a uniquely fulfilling experience compared to the rest of its contemporaries, contemporaries bogged down by goofy filler (Persona 4) or sloppy, trite execution of promising ideas (Persona 5).

The story's good. It's even what I'd call great. But the gameplay is... not great. P3 has essentially been obliterated by the passage of time for a large number of reasons. Tartarus is a bland dungeon, and Tartarus is the only platform through which you will experience the game's combat outside of monthly boss battles that feel so much more satisfying to play through that you just want the game to go outside of Tartarus already (exploring the city during the Dark Hour sounds so cool, and the game so rarely ever lets you do that, much to my chagrin). You can't control the actions of your Party Members, a decision that someone absolutely deserved to get fired for making. There's no Demon Negotiation, and it makes the process of actually collecting Personas feel stale and unengaging (a stupid card game, ooo). And there are some Party Members you straight up can't have Social Links with. Junpei, Akihiko, Ken, Shinjiro - none of them are permitted to have Social Links, presumably because Atlus is homophobic and thinks that getting close to male party members is just too gay for 2006 (but you can still have Social Links with non-party males in the game, so I'm a little confused as to what exactly Atlus' priorities were here).

The inability to control your party members, the lack of basic Social Links with the male side of your party, and the staleness of Tartarus' design drags this game down so hard, and it's only made Persona 3 age worse and worse with time. It's a shame, because hidden beneath these terrible systems is a solid RPG-LifeSim game with a banger cast of dynamic, introspective characters and a strong, emotive story whose emotional beats haven't faltered with time.

Persona 4 was probably the most miserable I have ever been while going through a main storyline in a video game in recent memory. Coming fresh off Persona 3, a game that I adored greatly for just how character focused its main story was (it wasn’t even my favorite video game at the time of starting P4), and hearing the sheer amount of praise this one received on Twitter during its re-release on Steam, I was shocked at how mind numbing this was as an experience.

Despite the intriguing premise, the main narrative is something I could only describe as factory produced. It quickly establishes a basic formula, that greatly detracts from both the emotional depth of the themes the story attempts to portray and the intricacy of the murder mystery, to create a predictable, repetitive slog of a campaign. Outside of an incident towards the end of the game, there’s little to no tension as you go through arcs with the exact same structure ad nauseam. Once the cast decide to devote themselves to catching the killer after the first arc, the “mystery” element quickly devolves into basic, deductive reasoning with no creative input required.

P4 decided to change from P3 how it would handle the time between each major event within the story. In P3, this time was filled with the cast’s introspection regarding their current circumstances and the further development of their characters arcs. In P4, this is replaced with wacky, anime high schooler hijinks that dwells more on the overall vibe between the cast rather than the individual journeys of each character. And this approach isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I can respect the greater focus on an upbeat tone, as I actually think it works pretty well and distinguishes this game from any other in this regard. And I can see why this is something that’s endeared countless people to this game. To its credit, I can say a lot of these moments do help the Investigation Team feel like a genuine group of friends. My biggest issue would lie in the fact that many of these scenes are unfunny at best and blatantly problematic at worst.

Whether it be the camping trip, where we see Yosuke blatantly accuse a sexually confused Kanji of planning to “do things” to him in his sleep solely because he’s potentially interested in men. Or in the next scene, where Yosuke pressures his female friends into wearing swimsuits so he can gawk at them. Or the cultural festival, where Yosuke signs them up for a swimsuit competition without their consent, despite the fact that one of them has made it very clear that they are extremely conscious about their feminine body... ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗᶦᶜᶦⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ...

In conjunction with my lack of care for the goofy antics and the narrative’s lack of focus on organic characterization, it leaves the main story itself feeling incredibly vapid. You may be thinking “god fucking damn, he hates this game. 3/5 stars? Stop lying 😭” and yeah, I think that myself sometimes too. But I do have to remind myself that the underlying qualities of Persona 4 are really fucking good.

I think most social links do an amazing job at genuinely pushing the messages the game wants to communicate. In particular, I think they fantastically highlight the importance of self confrontation; the difficulties of acknowledging our own faults, the pain that comes with, and the betterment that we attain as a result. These stories contain the exact heartfelt writing I look for in this franchise, some of them still being among my favorites to this day. Shoutout to Dojima and Kanji in particular. My fuckin beloveds.

And I find the atmosphere, while not being something I personally clicked with, is still something I greatly respect. It’s what you’ll hear literally everyone praise this game for and for a damn good reason. A comfy small town is a genius idea that heavily contrasts with the typical big city environments we see from this franchise. The game does a good job at occasionally meshing the setting of Inaba with the motivation of individual characters and other elements within the story. And the upbeat J-Pop tracks of the overworlds sell the feel-good nature of the game’s tone perfectly.

Talking about Persona 4 makes me realize that it’s just… hard for me to talk about this game without comparing it to other entries within the series. It's hard to look back in retrospect without thinking about how this game represents everything I dislike about the series and its current direction. Not made anymore easy when recognizing that this is still technically a follow up to my favorite game ever. It turns many of Persona 3’s captivating ideas that were used to push its unique themes (The Fool’s Journey, the calendar system, the overall gameplay loop) into formulaic elements to craft a narrative that has little in common with Persona 3. And this is something that I find continues to plague the series, as Persona 5 occasionally falls into the same trappings. But at the end of the day, it’s still important for me to recognize the strengths of Persona 4. With the charming atmosphere of Inaba and consistent character writing, I still find it to be a competent, standalone game. And regardless of my faults with what I think is a flawed approach, I can still see why this could be someone’s favorite game ever.

I plan on revisiting Persona 4 some day, but through the original PS2 version. I’ve seen many discussions online regarding how Golden’s added scenes heavily detract from the atmosphere of the game. Mostly through how Inaba is now seemingly only an hour drive away from the biggest attractions in Japan. And the added padding in general is something I never really cared for. It’s important to me, as like I said earlier in the review, Persona 4’s atmosphere is something that I didn’t really click with, despite how much I respect the approach. I hope that playthrough helps me focus on this game’s strengths, as this is something that I want to like, despite the constant complaining I direct at it.