When I was a kid, being home alone at night terrified me. I would jump at even the slightest unexpected noise and need to turn several lights on just to make the short journey from my room to the bathroom, the familiar halls of my small duplex suddenly becoming frightening and dangerous to me. I knew there were no monsters in any closets or under any beds, no ghosts haunting the place, but my scared little kid brain couldn’t help but ask… what if?

Anatomy brought that old childhood fear back in a way no horror game I’ve ever played has done, doing so much with so little to create an intensely chilling atmosphere. Exploring this dark, shadowy home with nothing to keep you company besides the tapes found within its rooms, hypersensitive to any and all sounds, the trepidation about what, if anything, is hiding around each corner and behind each door. Just like when I was a kid, I know there’s no monster waiting to jump out of a closet and get me, but I still can’t stop thinking “what if?”

"Because it's there." - British climber George Mallory, when asked why he wanted to climb Everest (also me, when my wife asks me why I want to finish the burger and all the fries when I'm no longer hungry)

It's no Everest, but the world of Hallownest is huge, intimidating, and wondrous; in a game where the 'plot breadcrumbs' style of storytelling means a general lack of narrative thrust, the mere existence of Hallownest is reason enough to want to explore it. Hollow Knight is sensationally good at worldbuilding through level design, and even through the so-called "slow start" I found myself wanting to get down and dirty exploring every nook of the game world; it helps that a huge portion of the world is almost immediately accessible without extra movement abilities, meaning that my journey of discovering Hallownest for the first time felt unique by virtue of how Hollow Knight seems more open-ended than other Metroidvanias.

Better writers than me have discussed the mechanics in much depth, but I do have to mention them anyway. Combat and movement is tight, consistent, and refined - this is evident in the sheer depth that your relatively small moveset brings to the boss fights, but also in how each new movement option adds more fluency and expressivity in how you traverse each area, bringing a joy to exploration that even the game's slight over-reliance on 'gotcha' hits cannot extinguish.

The 3.5 score at the top of this entry is probably a spoiler that there is a pretty big caveat to my praise above, and that comes in the form of something seemingly inconsequential to anyone who hasn't played the game: the benches (reload points) are on many occasions placed so far from bosses that it feels borderline spiteful. My issue here isn't that the game is hard; I think the difficulty level of the bosses is perfect and it really makes you earn your victories! But punishing failure with 5 minutes of backtracking so you can try again, only to get your ass kicked in 30 seconds, only to repeat the process ad nauseam, is a really frustrating way to git gud. It doesn't help that a fair few of the pre-boss 'gauntlets' are rather unengaging (the tunnel mazes before facing Nosk, or waiting for the series of elevators leading up to the Soul Warrior + Follies).

And much like the affliction that has spread to even the furthest reaches of Hallownest, this 'little' issue of bench placement has infected many other aspects of the game. The bosses are one of the big highlights of Hollow Knight but the bench placement makes the process of learning how to beat them more frustrating than it needs to be. And even the exploration is not spared - backtracking from bench to boss reduces the wonder of charting a living breathing world to a perfunctory and linear commute through a series of rooms I've seen dozens of times before, its effect on my play experience not unlike a long unskippable cutscene in the way it kills my momentum.

It would be easy for me to sum up my experience as thus: Hollow Knight is an otherwise-nearly-perfect game which was tarnished by one small flaw. And yet it's not that simple either! After completing the game and watching the end credits, I found myself experiencing not relief (as I usually do on finishing long games I'm ambivalent on) but profound melancholy. I watched excerpts of speedruns. I watched some videos on the the lore. I reloaded my save and tried some of the challenges that I previously decided were not worth my time cough White Palace cough. Tried and failed, but still. It's hard for me to leave it behind and move onto the next game - there's something alluring about the ruined world of Hallownest and I feel it will occupy my mind for some time.

Because it's there.

(101% completion, standard ending)

I needed this.

After about 3 weeks of action adventure games, I wanted nothing more than to curl up on a couch, parsing through some text in a narrative heavy adventure. Hotel Dusk delivered upon that and more. It wasn't long before I was hooked by the deepening mysteries of not just the central narrative, but of all of these distinct characters interacting with one another in this overarching tale where everyone's struggling to find some meaning in their trials and tribulations. Coupled with its animated and hand drawn character visuals and classy noir tunes, Hotel Dusk feels and plays like a fantastically engrossing and cohesive mystery novel with practically every loose end tied up at its culmination. There are some rough edges with certain touch screen puzzles due to their solutions/controls (though the majority of them are serviceable at worst and still thoughtful at best) and many potential game overs if you don't keep track of the bigger picture, the overall experience is more than enough to make up for these chinks in the armor. This is a great hidden gem, most definitely one of many among the DS's expansive library, and you owe it to yourself to give this tightly constructed mystery a run through. I am absolutely looking forward to playing Last Window in the near future.

hoo boy where do I even start here? This game stands proud as one of the vibest of vibe games, and with good reason, because the vibes here are truly on another level compared to most games today, let alone on the PS1.

It's a game where in the grand scheme of things not much happens as you spend a month over at your cousins house in summer. What you do with your 31 days at their countryside abode is entirely up to you. It is your summer vacation, after all, so there's no real correct or incorrect way to spend your time, and the game is entirely developed with that in mind.

The game very obviously isn't designed much like a traditional video game, as rewards for exploration are more scenes that try to evoke a particular emotion rather than being any sort of progress-making videogamey reward. I guess a good example is a random well that exists in a corner of the countryside. It's a dead end, there aren't many bugs to collect near the well, nothing inside the well, you can't go in the well to a new area, all that you can do is examine the well. Doing so plays a cutscene showing Boku looking down the well in intimidation before taking a few steps back in fear. That one particular area really has very little significance in the entire map as a side route, and it's really not like that area has any real threat to it. But like, I'm sure there has been a time in all of our youths where we ended up wandering somewhere we probably weren't supposed to be unsupervised and getting psyched out from something completely harmless. Bokunatsu is absolutely chock full of moments like that from start to finish. Regardless of whether or not you actually have experience of being a child living in rural 1970's Japan, this game covers so many aspects of being a kid in general that there's bound to be tons of things to relate to in spite of its setting.

Another impressive aspect to me was just the design of the whole world and it's characters. It's probably one of the most peaceful games to ever exist, with breathtaking hand-drawn 2D backgrounds of natural countryside landscapes and characters that feel like actual people just living another month in their lives. The wide age disparity between the different characters also provides insight in how summer is spent at different points of life. Kids like Boku and his little sister spend their time completely free and at their own discretion, being curious about the many things in the world, generally playing around every day with all their free time. There's Moe, the older cousin in her teens, where she struggles with growing up, spending most of her days studying inside or sitting outside at night thinking more philosophically about her future as she is about to enter high school. And then there's your Aunt and Uncle, where to their adult lives August is just another month of the grind doing work stuff and housekeeping. This game just excels at being a window into this precise household in this precise one month in time, allowing you as the player to observe the countryside and the family living in it just the same way as Boku does.

I could honestly keep going on about all the various moments in the game and the many different memories they made me feel, but I think yall get the point. Would definitely highly rec to anyone even remotely interested in these kinds of peaceful vibes, as this game definitely hits in a unique way to everyone who would play it. Much like actual summer vacation to a kid, this game is entirely what you make of it. or something like that.

Pikmin 3 the best in the series:

> No caves
> Louie's cooking notes
> Introduction of rock pikmin, a gang of 100 of these can annihilate anything
> 6 types of pikmin of any given time in your crew (see and learn pikmin 4)
> Control three captains at the same time and maneuver them by selecting destinations on the map (the pinnacle of strategy games)
> Enjoying refreshing juice at the end of each day
> Maps are full of tiny secrets and puzzles
> Huge fauna variety for the pikmin to have fun

Maintaining the series' tradition: dialogues, items/enemys descriptions, logs, and the overall story is so charming as it can be.

If the Pikmin series is pure delight, Pikmin 3 is transcendent joy

All the way back in 2010, me and my brother were gifted a Wii during our first week of school that Fall. I had just started the 5th grade and a week or two prior I had rented and played a chunk of Super Mario Galaxy 2 on my dad's friend's Wii during a beach trip. I absolutely loved what I played of it but after the trip was over, I had to return the game back to the rental store and of course the Wii was not mine, so I craved more. Like I said, my dad gifted us a Wii and with it was Super Mario Galaxy. My brother got the Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs game so it's pretty clear only one of us got a quality title. I was infactuated with this game. I can still remember running home from school, going right to my Wii as I couldn't wait to play it any longer. I'd wake up super early on weekends too just to play more. This and Galaxy 2 were basically the first non-licensed game's I truly loved and I'm very thankful for that as it made me want to play more Nintendo titles afterwards. As you can see I adore this game, let's talk about why!

I think the defining factor as to why people love this game so much (besides the story) is its atmosphere and portrayal of space. Sure, you have more goofy or lighthearted galaxies like Honeyhive or Beach Bowl that wouldn't feel out of place in another game. But a good chunk of the galaxies in this game, as well as the Comet Observatory, just have this really unique emptyness or marvel that really makes you feel like you're in space. Take Space Junk Galaxy for example. It's a very serene and solemn galaxy where most of the setting is literal space with some junk spread throughout just like the name implies and it's very relaxing to go through. A lot of the time I would just go into first person and marvel at the scope of all the planets or just look at the different skyboxes each galaxy has. Even on this playthrough, when I've played this game countless times, I still did this..it just never gets old to me.

As I said, the story is probably the other aspect people love about this game the most. It's still a Mario game so don't expect something mind-blowing but the cutscenes that are here are all great. Be it the beginning cutscene where Mario gets shot at by a magikoopa and gets flung to the starting planet while Peach screams his name, to the ending cutscene where all the Luma's save the entire universe by sacrificing themselves. It's just all so well done. Granted, these cutscenes only really happen at the beginning and end of the game, but it's what's contained in them that matters and it's the single best story in any mainline Mario game hands down. That's not even getting into the optional Rosalina's storybook which is in itself the single best part of the story. It just adds that extra depth to her character and let's you see who she is and how she got there. And even replaying it now, I still teared up...it's that good.

The OST I also think is the single best soundtrack in any Mario game. It has it all, it has catchy songs, it has majestic songs, it has atmospheric songs, it has emotional songs. I love Galaxy 2's OST too but it doesn't top 1 in my opinion and I think that's specifically because 2 doesn't have those emotional/sad songs which I value a bunch nowadays. Those would be A Wish, Sad Girl, and Family. Those last two especially, goddamn dude, I always can't help but get emotional when I hear them. Some other more lighthearted songs I love are Gusty Garden obviously, Melty Molten Galaxy, Buoy Base Galaxy and The Comet Observatory. All in all, an absolutely fantastic soundtrack.

As for the galaxies themselves...they're good! There may be some I'm not the biggest fan of, mostly the beach/bee galaxies and that's mostly because they reuse that theme twice which kinda stinks. But in general the galaxies are quite good even if they're aren't a ton of main one's. In that regard, 2 still does it better because there's way more fun and varied galaxies in that one, but 1 still has some really great levels to play around in. My favorites were Gusty Garden, Buoy Base, Freezeflame, Melty Molten and Space Junk. Special mention to Toy Time too for being so wacky and fun. Though, honestly another small critique I have with the game is the prankster comets. I'm fine with the purple coin ones but for the ones you playthrough your first time through before Bowser, there only being 4 types is kinda lame. 2 fixed this somewhat by adding more types and making it less obvious what it's gonna be but I felt it was worth pointing out. I will also say, people saying the movement in this game sucks I will never get. Is it better than Odyssey's? Definitely not but I still think it's a ton of fun to play around with the gravity. That's just me at least.

So yeah, I know I gave a criticism or two but I still absolutely adore this game and 2 fixes those issues I have and I sort of group them together as one game so it balances each others faults out. It and Galaxy 2 are basically my favorite games ever and I go back and forth on which one I prefer regularly for different reasons so I usually group them together even if both give pretty different gaming experiences. Either way, this game means everything to me and it's a must play for every gamer I think. I love it so much. Anyways, figured I'd go and replay 2 while I'm at it so look for that review soon!

Also forgot to say, I played as Luigi this time around. He's fun to play as even if he is slippery cuz his jumps are much larger. The reward you get for 100%ing both Mario and Luigi is lame as hell though and definitely was improved in 2.

There seems to be a prevailing expectation that as games evolved, they also became exponentially more approachable. Higher budgets resulted in smoother graphics and fewer bugs. More complex controls (adding left/right triggers, then adding one/two joysticks, then dabbling with motion inputs, etc) gave players a firmer grasp over their characters. AI became more predictable as their algorithms became more intricate to capture a wider range of responses. In a sense, as the technology expanded, the resulting products seemingly became more streamlined to better suit the player’s needs while more thoroughly capturing a developer’s vision.

Team Ico has never been about following tradition, however. If anything, the evolution of their titles embodies the regression of player control, choosing to instead utilize technological advancements not just to refine its premise via "design by subtraction" as chump has pointed out, but to deliver an entirely new experience altogether. Ico was a classic tale of boy meets girl; the girl had to be freed from her cage and pulled around the castle, as the boy protected her against everything in her way to prevent her demise. Shadow of the Colossus, however, was a story concerned with the struggle over control. The lone wanderer, in his quest to revive Mono, hunts down various several-story colossi capable of swatting him about like a fly. In the resulting desperate dance of death, he at first struggles to climb their hulking figures, hanging on for dear life until he discovers their weak points and stabs the colossi while they helplessly flail about. In other words, it's a game about trying to regain any semblance of control until you realize after the fact that the only shadow left was the literal shadow cast by Wander over their fallen corpse.

The Last Guardian then, can be thought of as the natural evolution of Team Ico titles, in that it melds previous design sensibilities and thrives off of disempowering the player throughout its entirety. Trico, the player’s companion and a cross between cat and bird, is essentially the analog to Wander’s horse in Shadow of the Colossus, Agro. Fumito Ueda designed Agro as a companion rather than just a vehicle, and had his team develop specific movement algorithms that would allow Agro to steer herself without the player’s explicit control, forcing players to put their trust in their steed during certain fights emphasizing bow aiming. Ueda and his new team at GenDesign iterated upon this idea, explicitly creating environments where the player was forced to rely upon Trico’s actions to progress and thus establish dependency between the boy and his companion.

While the game can be thought of as an inversion of Ico in this sense, its design influence upon The Last Guardian should not go overlooked, particularly in how the game captures Ico’s physicality. Ico’s key strength was establishing a sense of presence through minimalist puzzles that lacked overly gamey elements, namely in how Ico interacted with his surroundings. Players are subtly guided into climbing chains, pulling levers, sitting on stone sofas to save, and most importantly, holding down R1 to hold Yorda by the hand around the castle and pull her out of danger whenever captured. The Last Guardian innovates upon this by combining several of the traversable elements and the companion into one. To better navigate the vast ruins, the boy must guide Trico and utilize their tall body of climbable feathers in order to scale heights, while occasionally dragging around their large tail and dangling it over ledges to safely climb down. Most importantly, you get to pet Trico whenever you feel like it to comfort your friend in both their happiest and most emotionally taxing moments. In both Ico and The Last Guardian, the player’s constant contact with both the environment and their companion keeps them firmly rooted within its constructed sense of reality by regularly reminding them of their companion’s physical presence.

This physicality would not be as significant without the lessons learned from Shadow of the Colossus however, not just regarding AI behavior but also specifically in how it adapts the game’s sense of scale. Trico is large, and the boy is small. As mentioned previously, Trico can utilize their size to lean against walls and give the boy a step up, but they can also utilize their weight to hold down large chains and swipe away at imposing bodies of armor. Meanwhile, the boy is much more agile and can fit into otherwise inaccessible small spaces by Trico, squeezing through narrow tunnels and gaps in metal gates to pull switches and let his partner through. This obvious difference in size creates consistent room for contrast, not just in how the two characters differ in terms of functionality but also in terms of their scale when measured against the traversed liminal spaces of the ruins, constantly transforming from immense empty rooms to constrained and suffocating tunnels and corridors.

What is particularly interesting is not just The Last Guardian’s disempowerment or sense of scale, but rather what it manages to achieve with said elements and the resulting contrast to establish interdependency between the two characters and solidify their relationship. The combat, an almost complete inverse of Ico’s combat, is the most obvious example. Rather than defending Yorda by whacking shadow enemies with a stick, the roles have been reversed, in that the player must rely upon Trico to guard against scores of possessed armor as to avoid getting kidnapped himself. Even so, the game plays around with this idea of vulnerability, shifting the onus of responsibility about as the boy often finds himself in positions where he must actively support or protect Trico, such as disposing of glass eyes that scare his friend or scrambling to pull a nearby switch to lower a bridge and give Trico room to climb up to safety. The game is even willing to occasionally break its own rules to demonstrate how this sense of caring evolves past its defined guidelines. In almost any other game, this mechanical inconsistency would be regarded as a flaw, but it is this sense of doubt that creates room for the relationship to build from in the first place, and is perhaps the game’s most understated strength.

This is not to say that The Last Guardian was bereft of limitations regarding the execution of its ambitious scope. The most pressing challenge that Ueda and his team faced was how to balance its constructed sense of reality with regards to player expectations; that is, it had to find meaningful ways to commit to its vision of establishing the relationship between the boy and Trico while also acknowledging and appeasing players that would otherwise get lost or frustrated. Perhaps the most obvious downgrade from Ico is the presence of constant button prompts appearing on-screen to alert the players on how to better control the boy and instruct Trico; while the frequency of the prompts lessens over time, it is a slight disappointment that the game doesn’t simply force the players to experiment with inputs and commands as a more subtle and trusting substitute. This downfall however, is an anomaly amongst The Last Guardian’s other shortcomings, as it manages to successfully disguise many of its other concessions and limitations. There’s a classic “escape from the collapsing structure” sequence where all you do is hold forward and jump, but the game gets away with it because the player is used to being framed as a helpless participant. There’s occasional voice-over dialogue hints whenever the player has been stuck for a while in the same area, but it feels far less intrusive than Dormin’s repeated and booming hints in Shadow of the Colossus because the game has already established itself as a retrospective re-telling from the now grown boy’s point of view. Trico doesn’t respond immediately to the boy’s commands when being told where to go, but it makes sense that they wouldn’t function like clockwork and would need time to spot and process the situation from their own point of view, so the lag in response feels justified. It doesn’t matter that certain isolated elements of the game would crumble under scrutiny. What matters is that the situational context to allow players to suspend their disbelief is almost always present; in other words, the illusion holds up.

I’m still learning more about the game to this day. There are so many little details that I wouldn’t have spotted upon a first playthrough, and it’s an absolute joy finally getting to gush upon spotting them in replays. Of course it makes sense that you can’t just issue specific commands to Trico at the very start as a sequence-break despite not being taught by the game; after all, Trico hasn’t had time to observe you and mimic your actions to carry out such commands. Of course the hostile creatures that look exactly like your friend behave similarly; how can you then use your preconceived knowledge of their physiology to aid your friend in a fight against their copycat? I also can’t help but appreciate how GenDesign condensed so much learning within its introduction; in the first ten minutes alone, you’re hinted on how to later deal with the bodies of armor (the magical runes that appear before waking up are the exact same as the runes that appear when grabbed, and are dispelled in the same manner of furiously mashing buttons), you get to figure out how Trico’s eyes change colors depending upon whether they’re mesmerized or hostile, and it quickly establishes the premise of building up trust with a very wary creature that’s more than likely to misunderstand or ignore you at first. Combine all of these nuances with the game’s ability to destabilize and diversify playthroughs via Trico’s innate curiosity and semi-unpredictable instincts, and you get a game that becomes easier to appreciate the more the player familiarizes themselves with its inner workings.

I think a lot of criticism for The Last Guardian ultimately comes down to less of what we perceive the game is and more of what we perceive the game isn’t. It’s not a fully player-controlled puzzle-platforming game like Ico, it’s not a puzzle-combat game with spectacle like Shadow of the Colossus, and it’s certainly not a classic companion escort-quest game where you can just order Trico around like a robot and expect automatic results every time. Instead of focusing on the progression of more complex controls and puzzles, The Last Guardian is focused on the progression of a seemingly more complex relationship. I’m not going to pretend that everyone will get something out of this game, as it definitely requires a good deal of patience and player investment to meet the game halfway. It’s certainly more difficult to appreciate given its lack of influence unlike Ico or its lack of exhilarating boss encounters unlike Shadow of the Colossus. That said, it’s this element of danger in its ability to commit to its vision while alienating impatient players that makes it such a compelling title once it finally clicks. Many before me have pointed out how powerful the bond between the player and Trico felt upon learning from others that improperly caring for Trico results in your companion stubbornly ignoring the player’s commands; after all, volume swells cannot exist without contrast to provide room for growth. Perhaps this is why at the end of the day, I find myself transfixed by every word that Fumito Ueda has to offer. In an era where developers feel overly concerned with the best and brightest, he doesn’t seem concerned about what video games mean so much as what video games are. I can only hope that someday, he and GenDesign will return to bring us a new title that captures our imagination as thoroughly as many of his works already have for me.

The first / original RE on the PlayStation captivated me and became my first favorite "Adult" and survival horror game thanks to its realistic presentation with FMVs and pre-rendered backgrounds. When REmake was announced for the Nintendo GameCube I was completely floored at the jump in graphical quality and pre-rendered background details and perhaps became my most anticipated game of all time. The hype was well justified with Capcom pulling one of the most impressive remakes of all time and bringing the game to life by providing more detailed backgrounds, new files, areas, and even expanding the story a bit more over the original.

The presentation is top-notch and graphically this game still looks amazing thanks to the level of detail in the backgrounds that come to life with different lighting effects such as thunder/lightning and fire. Every room becomes a museum piece worth of checking every detail, nook, and cranny making the Spencer mansion one of the most remarkable and iconic settings in gaming.

Fixed camera angles are still present in this game for the better (in my opinion). Tank controls can deter gamers that are not used to these controls but as an "OG" RE purist, they feel natural to me and add charm to how the game is controlled and end up feeling natural and the best way to play the game due to the fixed camera angles.

The soundtrack sets the tone and is masterfully implemented in the game along with detailed sound effects. The voice acting is not as cringe as the original game but still maintains the staple cheesiness to keep things in check for RE fans.

All in all, REmake for the GameCube is one of my favorite games of all time thanks to its presentation and immersive setting. If you are a survival horror fan or feel like exploring the genre, it doesn't get any better than this.

It's hard to talk and summarize the experience of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (OOT) without restating the perennial praises and influences already discussed and passed down by gamers since the game released in 1998. For one, it still holds the #1 ranking as the best-reviewed video game of all time, decades after its release. It also happens to be my favorite game of all time. My choice has never been influenced by the historical hype that this game has carried over generations: it's simply based on personal experience. For those of us who had the privilege to experience this game upon release in 1998 it's easy to see why this game was the best, why it remains the best, and why it will likely remain as one of the best and most influential games of all time.

Starting with the obvious, this game pushed the boundaries on just about every category at the time of its release. Graphically, it was the first 3D Zelda game and the first time we had a chance to explore and experience the confines of Hyrule all while witnessing dynamic weather and time-of-day effects. From a soundtrack perspective, the game features an unsurprisingly number of epic tunes featuring Gerudo Valley, an updated version of Kakariko's Village theme, Intro song, among other timeless masterpieces. Gameplay-wise, there were a number of very important and influential features introduced by Nintendo including quick button mapping for items in a console game, Z-targeting system, advanced use of the Rumble Pak, etc. The game's progression was entertaining paired with the intriguing story and the time traveling featuring the switching of young and adult Link. I feel like this was the first Zelda game that also featured a more involved story and characters versus previous games and perhaps started the trend of fans over-analyzing the lore of the series and different timelines that were later made official by Nintendo making OOT a pivotal game and creating a break/diverging path in the timeline depending on the "fate" of Link.

As time passes, it's becoming more of a challenge to keep OOT's legacy alive since modern games have, are, and will improve on just about every facet. However, for those of us who experienced this game "back in the day", we can keep the legacy alive with our reviews, thoughts, and sharing our experience with younger gamers for as long as we are able to. Cheers for the memories.

Very solid tennis game for being the first in the series. Easy to pick up and play but somewhat challenge to master with all the different shot types and tricks. Subsequent games have made several improvements but this game laid the foundation for the series very well with its arcade-y gameplay perfectly suited for a Mario sports title. CPU opponents can be frustratingly hard on the major tournaments and it will require the player to explore the roster to find the best suited character to complete the game (typically powershot characters).

One of the most important console games of all time. The legacy of Super Mario 64 is based on the monumental transition of console games from 2D to 3D and, while SM64 was not the first 3D console game ever, it was the first one that was crafted to perfection with the tools and limitations available at the time of its development and release.

This game dropped jaws from its very first playable section outside the castle, which acted as a playground for the player to explore all the new moves that Mario could perform ranging from regular jumps, to acrobatic jumps, crouching, punching, backflips, etc. The physics behind Mario movements was ahead of its time to the point that this game remains a fan favorite for speed runs and it never ceases to amaze me how speedrunners combine all the different moves for a seamless ninja-like progression through the different levels.

Graphics were of course top notch at the time of release with the N64 hardware making use of cleaner and less pixelated textures versus other PlayStation and Sega Saturn games. Soundtrack was also fantastic with tunes that have become timeless and are part of Nintendo's legacy to the industry. Other milestones include Charles Martinet debuting as the voice of Mario and the game featuring limited voice acting (Princess Peach).

The overall game design was excellent with the castle acting as the main hub for levels but at the same time offering its own secrets and areas that were fun to explore. The thematic behind using the castle's paintings as levels/worlds allowed for the design team at EAD to have full freedom in terms of themes for each level which increased variety and replay value (snow, desert, haunted, underwater levels, etc). Furthermore, to increase replay value and varierty, each level features different "missions" to obtain stars which forced full exploration of said levels on behalf of the player. Simply put, if you wanted all 120 stars in this game, you would have to revisit and master each corner of all levels, creating a unique feeling of adventure and feeling of mastering the game.

Better graphics, presentation, and gameplay components have been crafted throughout the years in the 3D platforming world ever since the release of SM64; but the legacy this game left is unmatched and the level of polish and quality that Nintendo provided ended up creating a timeless masterpiece in the gaming universe.

For being an early title for the Nintendo 64, MRC provided a solid racing experience following the Ridge Racer formula with a few ingredients of its own.

Graphics and presentation were very good as well as gameplay and basic physics. The game also featured small details that made it stand a bit over regular racing games such as dynamic dash gauge among other details. Tracks had solid designs with multiple paths / shortcuts that provided advantages depending on the type of vehicle you selected (i.e. off-road)

Perhaps the weakest point in this game is the relative lack of content / small number of tracks. The game does try to re-use them in certain ways such as mirrored tracks but the lack of content is apparent no matter what.

does absolutely nothing to distinguish itself from the original except for adding a silly knife parry mechanic and turning all the memorable, interesting encounters in the first game into call of duty levels. I dont know how they copy-pasted so many maps from the first game and somehow have bad level design so frequently? inventory management is basically gone, the changes to the shop suck, the enemy movement from the first game (something rarely replicated but adds a ton of personality) is straight up gone and instead everyone is a bullet sponge like in the re2 remake. man, whatever.