A Stephen King inspired horror game about a depressed writer cursed with supernatural creative powers sounded like a perfect premise for me. I expected to be terrified, lost, and fully engrossed in a dark and atmospheric setting, but the only quality I found that this game shared with Stephen King’s novels was a desperate need for an editor.

Alan Wake was only a 10 hour game yet it somehow still felt too long. I can usually appreciate a slow burn horror, but the flat, tropey characters failed to carry the narrative and I struggled to get invested in them. It also didn’t help that the story was doled out in pieces between extremely repetitive and dull combat sections. The gameplay loop was very basic: press a button to shine a light, then press another button to shoot a gun. It never evolved or deviated past this loop, like playing a tutorial from beginning to end. The enemies were mostly copy-pasted shadow men, or occasionally when the Darkness wanted to spice it up, some shadow birds or trucks. The reward for finishing these encounters was a bit of cutscene narrated with Alan’s stodgy monologue.

This game was such a disappointment for me because I jumped into it right after having a wonderful time with Remedy’s more recent title, Control. I was ready to learn more about their “Remedy-verse” and wanted to connect the dots in the lore myself by playing all of their older games. Alan Wake quickly put an end to that endeavor, and I’m now happy to just read about the cool details on a wiki.

Divinity Original Sin 2 had everything I wanted from CRPGs. Rivellon was a huge, immersive and dynamic world, full of secrets to uncover and memorable conflicts to stumble upon in every corner. The story had a somewhat generic start, but was quickly elevated by its cast of interesting origin characters. I was also impressed by how reactive the game was to my decisions, with verisimilitude both in and out of combat. Although I’m usually indifferent towards these typical fantasy settings, I ended up caring deeply about the world and its fate because of my great degree of influence within it.

The combat was amazing. The elemental effects were very fun to manipulate and intuitive to learn, and the armor system added a tactical puzzle that was satisfying to crack. The enemies proved to be quite competent tacticians, and combined with the unique terrain each encounter was designed around, they provided a good amount of challenge that encouraged experimentation. To support this, the game also had great player freedom and lots of tools to tinker with. I could easily respec at any time to try different builds. The crafting system was robust and useful. Skills like teleportation and terrain transmutation rewarded creative thinking on the battlefield with great advantages. I could bend the game as much as I wanted but it never seemed to actually break, but instead became more fun.

This game was very close to perfection for me, but it still had a few flaws that others might find more problematic. The difficulty curve could’ve been smoother, as it was the harshest in the early game and required a bit of XP scrounging until the gameplay opened up. Fortunately DOS2 has easier difficulties available, and a “gift bag” feature that allows players to tune their playthrough with developer supported mods. I also had some issues with the writing in certain spots of the story, especially the ending which felt like a series of rushed revelations and some plot hole ridden choices.

Still, I think the depth and quality of content in DOS2 completely makes up for its shortcomings. It’s no surprise that Larian was able to succeed so well with Baldur’s Gate 3, as the brilliance of that game can be traced directly from DOS2. I’m still hoping they will come back to this series afterwards, because there’s a lot here that can still be explored and fleshed out. Also I just want more games with this incredibly satisfying combat system.

2017

Prey raised the bar for “immersive” in the immersive sim genre to a whole new level for me. Coming from the Bioshock series, I was so happy to see the familiar formula become perfected in this game, with so much more player expression and freedom put into combat, traversal, and story. I loved the incredible detail and interconnectedness in the gameplay systems which also fit seamlessly into the setting. The sheer variety of builds and skills I could play with were overwhelming at times, but also added great replay potential.

Talos 1 was a meticulously crafted setting that never became reduced to just a video game arena designed for me to run around shooting aliens in. Despite the massive scale of the station, each area was always fleshed out with grounded details that made it feel like a real place where people with distinct personalities and histories lived their lives. Exploring through the crew’s workstations full of emails and notes, their personal rooms decorated with children’s art and DnD character sheets, I felt like I was getting to know these people even though I would never get to actually meet them.

I was also impressed with the quality of writing and the decisions Prey presented me with. In a lot of games with moral choices, the options often boil down to “good” or “bad,” and there is barely any room to leave me wondering if I made the right choice. But in Prey, there were multiple sections where I had to pause the game just to ponder the decision I was being asked to make.

Unfortunately, my experience took a slight downturn towards the end. The tension that had gripped me in the beginning eventually fizzled out as I amassed resources and neuromod powers. I was running fearlessly around Talos 1 spraying ammo at anything that looked remotely suspicious. Even the titanic “Nightmare” started to feel like a lumbering oaf, existing solely to waste my time killing it. The ending was also strange. I hesitate to say “bad” because it was shocking and interesting on its own, but I was hoping for more satisfying resolutions to all the difficult moral decisions I had to make throughout the story.

Despite its weak ending, I would still recommend Prey to anyone looking for a great immersive sim. The journey matters more than the destination after all. I think Prey brings much more to the table than other games with a similar premise, especially for people who love to explore and experiment in a game.

As a narrative and exploration focused gamer, I had never been a fan of difficult bosses. They always felt like solid brick walls built to ruin the flow of exploration, and I’d have to smash myself against them repeatedly for hours to get through. Easy mode was my usual solution if it was available. I thought I would never understand how some people could enjoy this frustrating aspect of gaming, so much so there was even a whole genre dedicated to it.

But then, I tried Hollow Knight. It was the first game ever I managed to “get good” at. It was the first game that taught me what getting good even means, how to do it, and most importantly, how it could be fun. Hollow Knight was a perfectly tuned game for bridging the gap between exploration and challenge. The platforming controls were smooth and precise. New abilities were introduced at a steady pace, accompanied with intuitive level design that naturally encouraged experimentation and mastery. The clean art style with minimal visual noise, along with excellent sound design, rendered even the most difficult enemies very readable and learnable.

Yes I died a lot, but each time my skill and knowledge of the game was increasing. As I slowly overcame the challenges that I had thought impossible, I was also getting hooked on that sweet dopamine rush of victory. Even after the credits rolled I was still obsessed, going for that 112% completion. I was happy to spend weeks conquering all the crazy challenges and bosses the game had to offer.

Of course, it wasn’t just about the arduous battles. This beautiful fallen kingdom of bugs was also replete with great characters, tragedies, comedies, and secrets. Even as I approached the endgame I was still discovering whole new areas, all illustrated lovingly with distinct styles and packed with great content. I didn’t expect to become so attached to Hallownest and its insect residents, but by the end I was fully invested in all their stories.

I know that Hollow Knight doesn’t fit neatly into the Souls-like genre, but it certainly opened my mind to those games that I had previously avoided. I can now explore a whole new corner of my favorite hobby with a fresh perspective and newfound confidence, thanks to this game. Hollow Knight was one of the most memorable and exciting adventures I’ve had in gaming.

Bioshock Infinite was my introduction to this great series, and for that it will always have a special place in my heart. In my replays I’ve come to see more of its faults, but I think it’s still a very fun game with a new glamorously horrifying city that deserves its place right alongside Rapture.

At first I was completely charmed by this deific steampunk paradise. I loved walking its floating streets, eavesdropping on conversations, listening to the music, savoring the immersion. I didn’t know what to expect from a Bioshock game back then, so I was genuinely shocked when things went to hell and Columbia turned out to be a white supremacist theme park. I still tried to explore as much as I could between fighting off the sky KKKs, but a layer of apprehension always tainted the city’s grandeur which I found dreadfully compelling.

I loved the combat on my first playthrough. I wasn’t very good at FPS games so the stylish yet simple combat worked well for me. However after playing the previous Bioshock entries, Infinite’s combat started to feel too restrictive in comparison. I missed the immersive-sim elements from the first game and the degree of playstyle variety it granted. At least the skylines were great additions, and stomping on enemies from 10 meters high never got dull.

I also had some misgivings about the story which only deepened on replays. With racism and oppression featuring prominently through the hook and buildup of the story, I felt like there should’ve been a stronger message underneath to support these heavy topics. I wasn’t satisfied with the way this crucial aspect of the setting was dismissed with a banal “people are all bad” conclusion. Booker and Elizabeth’s multiverse adventure was fun and all, but the Vox Populi story shouldn’t have been relegated to mere backdrop.

Bioshock Infinite is a very well crafted entertainment product. It’s got style, cool characters, shocking twists, and plenty of spectacle. The setting and the story is fascinating. Gameplay is fun. But it’s not a thoughtful or deep philosophical media like it tries so very hard to be. There’s a whole mess of neat ideas in it that could’ve become truly great with thoughtful writing and design, but instead they all crudely got shoved into a single 15 hour game. I would still love to experience the stories within other lighthouses and their dangerously enthralling cities, but hopefully with better writing and less multiverse shenanigans.

Post-apocalyptic settings are very popular for games, but none have been so vibrant and breathtaking as Horizon Zero Dawn. The gorgeous forests, mesas, and the cold mountain tops contrast starkly to their bizarre “robot-life.” The human cultures living in the biomes are also strangely colorful, their primitive garbs adorned with modern plastics and metals. And most importantly, towering above everything, are the majestic robot dinosaurs.

I was completely enamored by these amazing visuals and concepts, and this was one of the few cases where I chose a game by its cover and it turned out to be just what I wanted. The unique creativity in the art was also in the writing, making this beautiful world even more exciting to explore. The robots not only looked cool, but were also very fun and engaging enemies to fight against.

Battles were never a chore to do for quests or craft materials. Each robot was built for the niche it filled in the ecosystem, which wonderfully intersected with their combat capabilities and informed gameplay. I could shoot a blaze canister with fire arrows to make them explode, or I could knock them off if I wanted the blaze for myself. I could hit containers on the robots with my spear to get the extra loot inside. These small details added up to make combat more meaningful and clever.

The overarching story was excellent. The two compelling narratives of the present time with tribal politics, and the past story of the ancient apocalypse, were very well entwined together with some surprisingly philosophical ideas thrown in. The worldbuilding and the story felt like a cohesive whole that rewarded close observations and theorizing. It was the kind of story that had me thinking more about it even long after the credits.

This game was very nearly a perfect game for me, but it was unfortunately not immune to the content bloat that is endemic to the Ubisoft open world formula it was built upon. The ancient vessel and flower collectibles added nothing to the game but at least I could ignore them. I felt conflicted about doing the side quests because I really enjoyed getting to know the tribes and reading all the lore, but doing so noticeably dragged the pacing of the core narrative. I would’ve preferred a reduced number of questlines with more weight given to each one instead.

Despite the pacing issue, I’m still very glad to have experienced this game. Its open world design didn’t seem so special, but the world itself certainly was. Even people who have no tolerance for side content bloat might still find a great combat system and a compelling story to enjoy within Horizon Zero Dawn.

A Plague Tale was a charming game with some really promising ideas. I liked the unique choice of protagonist for the medieval setting, and I was curious about how the gameplay would depict a 14 year old girl going up against trained soldiers and villains in this violent world.

The game delivered on this concept in a way, because I got to see timid Amicia grow into an Arya Stark type of determined assassin. The voice actress Charlotte McBurney did a great job bringing out her emotions and her character arc. Unfortunately, the actual meat of the stealth gameplay didn’t feel varied or deep enough to keep me engaged for the 15 hours it took to get to the ending.

The combat too often felt like a simple puzzle of moving enemies around or waiting for them to robotically march to 2 or 3 predictable positions. Even if I wanted to approach it as a puzzle game, I was prevented by NPCs or Amicia herself blurting out the solutions before I’ve had even a minute to think. Eventually nothing was truly a challenge for Amicia, not because she was a genius, but because the enemy soldiers were about as intelligent as the fungus zombies in The Last of Us. The game lost too much tension toward the end when it should have been the most tense at its narrative climax.

I still had a decent time with the game, probably because I'm partial to narrative games and especially female protagonists. It also had the “The Last of Us but medieval" flavor going for it, which propped up even the rote gameplay for a while. I can see how some people can fall in love with A Plague Tales’ heartfelt narrative and moody setting, but that wasn’t quite enough for me.

Control was not an easy game to get into, but it ended up being one of the few games that I explored to completion. I would comb through each area looking for the next errant page of mail or a forgotten recording, hoping to piece together more of the numerous mysteries of the Oldest House. I’m not usually such a meticulous gamer, but with Control I just couldn’t get enough of the incredible setting and lore.

The beginning of Control can be kind of jarring as the player gets tossed right in the middle of insanity. I was certainly put off a bit at first. A bunch of alien concepts were being thrown at me all at once, with words that felt like bricks of nonsense such as “Altered Items,” “Collective Unconscious,” or the mouthful “Hedron Resonance Amplifier.” Eventually, after sticking through the first few hours, the dots started to connect and Control’s pseudoscientific logic became decipherable. I was kind of turning into a paranatural researcher myself, making discoveries that were sometimes funny, sometimes terrifying, and always very fascinating. The more I learned, the more curious I became. Soon enough, curiosity became enthusiasm and I found myself thinking about Control even when the game wasn’t running.

I think Control’s lore building works so well especially because of Remedy’s efforts to make its setting very grounded and detailed, in stark contrast to the weirdness underneath it all. I found lost mails from concerned civilians, educational videos, creepy children’s shows, radio programs, whiteboard scribblings, and so much more packed into the Oldest House, and I was excited to find every single one. The Federal Bureau of Control felt like an actual organization where people had lives, careers, and personal drama. These little details all came together to give life and surprisingly compelling character to this mundane, brutalist government building.

Of course, even the excellent setting would’ve still fallen flat if the gameplay wasn’t good enough to hold it all up. I found it to be a great improvement compared to Remedy’s older games like Alan Wake. I loved the fast, aggressive combat and the satisfying progression of my supernatural powers. Unfortunately the gun mod progression didn’t hold up very well in comparison, despite the game being littered with these everywhere. The randomized quests called Bureau Alerts were also a miss for me and I wanted an option to turn them off. These didn’t impact my enjoyment of the game too much, but I hope to see them improved or maybe even removed in Control 2.

I’d strongly recommend this game to anyone who enjoys the weird fiction genre. Books like House of Leaves and Annihilation often came to my mind as I played through Control. Any lore focused gamer with a love for exploration would likely enjoy Control as well. Try to give it some time if things don’t make sense at first, and enjoy this strange new world.

The Last of Us Part 2 challenged me emotionally in a way that I didn’t think a game would. I’ve never seen a game portray such raw, realistic trauma. I can’t say it’s a “fun” game to play, but it was still an incredibly engaging experience and a fitting continuation of the story.

Part 2 often gets analyzed—and criticized—as a revenge story. Initially, that was how I experienced it as well. I felt connected with Ellie throughout her journey, empathizing with her pain, guilt, and thirst for vengeance. As a result I was disappointed like many others when the game pulled me away from her midgame and seemed to suddenly change its premise.

Except, of course, it hadn’t. After undertaking another 10 hours of a new journey, in concert with some excellent writing as always, I came to understand that Part 2 was about vengeance in the same way Part 1 was about zombies. The plot focused on these things a lot, but the purpose of the story was always to portray the nature of people. Both entries of The Last of Us were about how we change, how we obstinately cling to the lost things, and how we must always cope with our faulty humanity even as the world falls apart. I found Part 2’s story to be an engrossing perspective into the deeper trauma and motives of people in this violent world.

The actual gameplay aspect was also phenomenal. I was always a fan of the slow, methodical combat style of the first game, so I was glad to see that much of it was similar in Part 2 with a more modern polish. I especially loved the new stealth mechanic of going prone and hiding in the grass. I’ve said this game isn’t a “fun” game as a whole, but there were still distinctly fun combat sections and setpieces.

I‘d recommend The Last of Us Part 2 to fans of the first game or anyone who likes to see darker themes explored in games. The only caveat is that you need to be in the mental space for a depressing story. This game left me emotionally bruised but also gave me much to think about for weeks afterwards.

Rapture is still as immersive and terrifying as it always was. Yes the graphics are starting to show their age, and that hacking puzzle probably felt old even in 2007. Yet the demented beauty of Rapture is just so strong and unique it's hard not to get immersed. I must applaud the artists who brought this place to life. That first descent into the city, and the introduction of the first splicer, are all incredibly cinematic even with the older graphics. This attention to setting and environment carries through the whole game. Every single location has a personality and aesthetic of its own, making it so great to explore.

The combat is still very fun, because unleashing a bunch of bees on enemies or zapping them with electric bolts never gets dull. My only complaint is the lack of challenge by the end game, especially at the final fight. It’s a shame that this spectacular experience is saddled with such an anticlimactic end.

I’ve played through this game twice, watched a bunch of playthroughs, and of course watched the show. It’s made me cry every single time. Usually rewatches or replays never feel the same as the first time, but The Last of Us always manages to deliver a powerful emotional experience.

I think the magic comes from the very basic and timeless core of the story. Sure, there's the zombie apocalypse and plenty of action, but those are not the focus. The main story is just about two people surviving in terrible situations, bonding and growing together. It's a pretty common trope, but sometimes a trope is universal because it speaks to the core of human experience. The Last of Us is one of the best stories to showcase that.

The gameplay still holds up very well. The combat is both satisfying and terrifying. That first chapter introducing the infected always feels brutal, but TLOU does a great job of slowly empowering the player, opening options, and allowing a variety of playstyles. I also love the crafting mechanic. It’s simple, not too many things to keep track of, but there’s enough choices there to encourage some planning.

To me, The Last of Us is still one of the best in its genre and I don’t think it will ever age out of relevance.

I feel very conflicted when it comes to recommending Outer Wilds. It’s a game unlike any I’ve played. It’s so clever, so mesmerizing, so creative—and so very frustrating.

It also doesn’t help that the best way to experience Outer Wilds is to go in completely blind. So without actually describing too much about the game, here’s a description of a person who would love this game despite its faults:

- Do you love exploring just for the sake of it?
- Enjoy puzzles that require out-of-the-box thinking?
- Don’t mind getting stuck on puzzles, sometimes for hours?
- Like to learn things all on your own with no hand-holding?

If you’re OK with all of the above then go ahead. Just play it, don’t look at or read anything else about it. Otherwise, here’s the review with some minor spoilers.

Pretty much everyone has already sung the praises of Outer Wilds, and I agree with a lot of them. The world is super unique, and each planet has its own interesting challenges. The time-loop mechanic is well incorporated and doesn’t feel like a gimmick. The Nomai’s story intertwines with the puzzles very well, making the whole experience feel less like a puzzle game and more of an archeological expedition. The narrative is mostly told through this piecemeal format, and it has a lot of heart and warmth to it that got me emotional at times.

But at its core it’s still a puzzle game, and for someone like me who hates getting stuck, it has a lot of frustrating moments. The only progression method is the knowledge gained from exploration, which is unique but it also means that if I get all the clues and I still don’t know the answer, well that’s the end of it.

So when I eventually got to the difficult puzzles, I was hopelessly stuck. It took me hours of futile backtracking and going through dozens of loops, which required me to do certain tasks over and over to even reach the puzzle, for me to finally give up and seek guides. It was a pretty deflating process. Sometimes the answers were things I had already tried hours ago, but I had been thwarted by something inane like finicky controls.

Still, it was an experience worth having. The lows were terrible but the highs were amazing. Even with all the frustration, the game had a way of winning me back eventually. By the end I was once again enraptured by the story and mystery. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so stubborn and just looked up guides earlier, I might have enjoyed the game more. I’ve also found communities like the Outer Wilds subreddit who are very helpful with spoiler-less hints. Players who are less keen on puzzles could lean on them to still enjoy the game.

I started playing this game thinking I wouldn't like it. After purchasing the game I made the mistake of going online to read all the "walking simulator" memes and internet negativity, so I was a bit worried that my money had been misspent. The first few hours were definitely a walking simulator—I faceplanted a lot, lost footing in rivers, fell down cliffs, and there wasn't much else happening other than the convoluted story that felt more like Kojima’s stream of consciousness ramblings than an actual narrative. All that was keeping me playing were the striking cinematography and frankly, Mads Mikkelsen.

Then around chapter 3, it clicked. The world opened up, the mechanics opened up, and the story opened up. I started to get some creative gears, with more ways to fight enemies, and more types of environments to traverse through. The journey was no longer "hold R2 and L2 and hope for the best" but a proper challenge that I could strategize around. I was starting to appreciate the difficult walking experience in the beginning because it made the progression that much more impactful.

For example I had never been so excited about finding a single truck in any other video game. In Death Stranding, unloading my cargo into my first truck and getting into the driver’s seat was like finally getting a legendary sword in an RPG after toiling for hours with a broken dagger. I could finally carry all the ceramics I needed to build roads! Build a line of bridges over all the ravines! Deliver a whole city’s ration of underwear and beer in one trip! Every single upgrade and addition to my porter toolbox had such gratifying weight and potential to them. By the end game I was a literal god among porters, flying over mountains on my carefully constructed ziplines.

Building infrastructure was a big part of the game. I always liked building things in games, but in Death Stranding these mechanics felt more meaningful because they tied in with the general themes of connection and altruism very nicely. Not only were my bridges and ziplines useful to me, but I was also notified every time another player found them useful. Community interactions were strictly designed to be as wholesome as possible. Whoever shoved that crate of 1000 metals into a postbox by the Weather Station’s road builder was my anonymous hero of that day.

The atmosphere was also masterful, and often far more effective at getting me invested into the world than the actual script. This was my favorite moment in Death Stranding: During a delivery I had to cross a particularly treacherous river rapids. I fell once and got swept away by the river, which destroyed all my cargo. On my second try I managed to cross it slowly, following the community built signs. Then I found a cave to rest. I sat there playing BB a song on my harmonica, watching the rain fall into the river and the misty mountains beyond. Those serene moments of gentle connection after difficult journeys made Death Stranding truly special to me.

This is the best video game writing I've ever experienced, probably up there with some of the best novels I've read. The beauty of the story is that it's not some standard fantasy-driven wish fulfillment adventure. Despite the general fantastical mood, Disco Elysium tells a story about real life, ugly themes like addiction, poverty, politics, and obsession. The RPG elements are very personal and inwardly focused in the mindscape of Harry. While it may not seem exciting at first, it's quite an emotional rollercoaster. The setting, rendered with gorgeous impressionistic art, feels like a real lived-in city both hated and loved by its residents. I enjoyed every bit of it.