I heard a guy on a podcast once say he likes watching golf on tv because it’s the only sport where you can watch an athlete competing with himself. Celeste is a whole game about that struggle with personal frustration and the defeatist attitude that you conjure while attempting something that stretches your abilities. Platformers are the video game version of golf in this way—if you mad bro, it’s only at yourself—and this one is harder than most. But Celeste wants to encourage you. Breaking up the levels into bite size screens is genius. The little bonuses being both tough as nails and totally optional makes you feel really good when you get one. I beat the game but kept it installed to go get every last strawberry. There’s just no reason to stop playing this game.

‘Completed’ is a relative term of course. The hype is real. It’s a historic game. The mechanics and physics are the video game version of the discovery of penicillin or something. However, for all that, the game itself stopped sparking joy a lot quicker than BOTW. Most of the reason to explore comes down to collecting a whole lot of some kind of resource that lets you upgrade yourself to a point that’s unnecessary to complete the game (I was good after 1 extra full stamina wheel and a single row of hearts). Harder enemies typically just mean more HP.
The story is really cool and unfolds in a great, nonlinear, way. The conclusion is properly epic. Proof that you can accomplish so much more with strong design talent relative to hardware capabilities. But of course this is Nintendo and they’re wizards over there. The implications of the TOTK revolution will probably only be realized by the next Zelda game.

Some heinous technical bugs that impeded missions being completed, and endemically poor graphics performance across platforms mar what might have been the greatest Star Wars game ever. The story is right on the mark, better than the recent films and most of the shows. As a Star Wars experience, this is top tier.
As a game, however, it's got some hollow bones. Though it's inspired by Sekiro and Soulslikes, the combat is too reactive in its boss duels, since the guard and counter system crowds out any creative plays. There's also no way to take the initiative. Not even your special attacks earned with hard won skill points will matter all that much. You wait for your windows and hit til they close; repeat. Battles with swarms of enemies are more interesting, especially when there are some bruisers mixed in with pawns. The force powers and environments combine for some fun combat options.
Traversal is initially elating with the ability to run across walls and jump and dash, but the feeling of freedom is closed down by the restrictive environments, where every little ledge and crawlspace has been planned out to either accommodate or deny you entry. No creativity allowed. This is represented by the map which shows you in simple polygons the predetermined paths you are to take. The environments are pretty but just window dressing on a very rote metroidvania skeleton. And despite some self-contained force dream sequences, there's no platforming to speak of, at least not the sort that rewards skill. What's fundamentally at issue here is how the traversal moves are almost entirely divorced from combat. Outside of the jump and dash, none of the cool traversal moves you do matter at all in combat. decades ago, Kyle Katern could slice a stormtrooper's head off while running on a wall. This is an odd step backward. On the other hand this is the series that finally got blocking blaster bolts right. Not a small thing to make a fluid, cinematic game that really does make you feel like you're playing the movie. But games aren't movies and so it's the attempt to blend the two visually that, ironically, makes the gameplay feel more wooden. For a studio that got so much right in Titanfall making motion feel fun, the stilted motion here is disappointing.
The upside is a series that has come into its own and has elevated people's expectations for a singleplayer Star Wars game. The many cosmetic options are more important than they seem. Being able to dress up your action figures and go play with them makes the world feel lived in and variable. Getting to dress up your SW action figures is not a small part of the fun of playing. This is the first game that has hung its hat entirely on creating a quality SP experience and it shows. Despite the shallow gameplay it's a solid 7/10.

Prey’s main game is a first draft for Mooncrash. All of Prey’s ideas fuse together in a way they never did in the main campaign, and really no other immersive sim has ever achieved anything like this. For once, a roguelike mode isn’t just an afterthought. It puts Prey’s systems, tools, and enemies into a single, large map that changes with each run, like a puzzle box of shifting pieces. The floor plan is the same, but that familiarity only gets you so far with changing hazards, enemies, and an increasing threat level that you have to outrun or find ways to stave off until you can complete your objectives.

The fact that you play as 5 different characters (6, counting the simulation’s pilot) each with their own motives and objectives, makes this a story worth playing too. But the real reason is that each character is its own class with a unique upgradeable skill tree. Beating the game means escaping with all 5 in a single run, but to do that each one needs the others' skills to fix, unlock, or hack elements of the environment to enable the rest of the team to exit. By the end, you're going to be jotting down a checklist of what you need each survivor to do, and using every skill you've learned to navigate the station as quickly as possible. This is the real genius of Mooncrash: how it forces you to master every system. No more just leveling up your combat skills and barreling through. No more "just sneak by the guys to get to the end." The roguelike loop plus the fact that the game forces you to play all 5 character classes means you're going to be shooting, hacking, repairing, sneaking and psi blasting your way out of here. But you still can't fully predict when and where you'll need to use these skills. There is no way around thinking on your feet, and your final run will be uniquely yours.

This is the best immersive sim ever made and the pinnacle of Arkane’s work—and with the changes it has undergone, it’s likely to stay that way.

Real Cyan brilliance hobbled by what must have been some troubled production. Commits a few sins that keep it shy of greatness. Some areas appear to have been intended as puzzles but left unfinished, and kept as set dressing, leaving the player to poke around endlessly with no way of knowing whether you're supposed to be finding something or not. Still a great game with a fantastic central conceit that gives you a portal-like experience once it's revealed. Worth your time but it could have been great and it's just good.