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.

It drives me insane when it comes to talking about these sorts of games since it always feels like a total minefield about how much I can say before I get into some pretty serious spoiler territory. It's especially the case when it comes to a game I find as cool as this one because it makes me all the more determined to insist on not contributing to the endless sea of spoilers that is the internet. With that said though, wow, what a great game, one that manages to walk that line perfectly between representing its influences prominently while also going for a style and approach that's wholly distinct and its own. It's a game that not only represents the inherent flaws in calling a game inspired by something else a "[blank] clone", but is also able to demonstrate the sheer versatility of games as an artform with how much variety and incredibly distinct characteristic there can be in even the most similar looking experience. I'd say that it also conveys that games shouldn't be so inherently opposed to stylistically following in the footsteps of others if they have something unique of their own to bring to the table, and this definitely has a lot of interesting stuff to say.

While one of the most popular summaries I've seen of this game falls somewhere along the line of "Undertale meets rhythm games", I'd argue that this is only true on the most superficial level both thematically and mechanically. In terms of mechanics, while there's clearly a rhythm game aesthetic that's intrinsically tied to this, with the enemies summoning obstacles in accordance to the music along with the arena you fight everyone in being reminiscent of a Guitar Hero chart, this is far closer to a bullet hell than it is a true rhythm game. This goes all the way to the point where there are some section that feel as if the player's actions are totally disconnected to the music going on, and while those who expected a proper rhythm game would probably find this an odd or downright terrible decision, it's something that becomes much easier to appreciate if you're able to take it as a very stylish bullet hell that's intrinsically linked to the soundtrack. It also helps that the combat itself feels so fun, with your character's movement being largely fast and very responsive, which is a must for a game that gets as chaotic and fast paced as this one. The way it's able to better represent the characters themselves and bring forth a lot of interesting mechanical challenges is also really neat.

Rarely does it feel as if two fights can be approached in a similar way, whether it's because of certain patterns forcing the player to act in a certain way, a type of obstacle unique to a certain fight, or even just in the more nuanced areas of how the player needs to respond to any given situation in front of them, almost every battle feels wholly unique and entertaining. The exception to this is when a certain element gets introduced about halfway into the game and throws some of the difficulty balancing a bit off, almost going against the core gameplay loop in the process, but fortunately the times which this additional element reveals its more negative connotations are relatively uncommon and are able to actually add to some of the best moments in the game. Overall, this element is a bit of a double edged sword but mostly works out well, so the bad points it brings to the table are largely an acceptable tradeoff. I also am a big fan of the way this game handles difficulty for the most part as well, having a really smooth difficulty curve at the start and getting absolutely brutal by the end, but also feeling as if it can get pretty interesting with things to further solidify the narrative side of things. Occasionally you'll just get put up against something that feels far beyond what everything else is, or uncharacteristically easy, but it always feels fitting from a narrative perspective and serves to strengthen the relationship between these combat sections and the overworld, reinforcing the way that these are 2 parts of the same world and not separate entities that only coexist for the sake of providing some more cohesion to the experience. At the same time, the devs also understand that putting in some optional superbosses is a really fun time and one that is able to transcend any semblance of such a difficulty curve to create some moments of pure insanity for those who are looking for the game's mechanics to be pushed to their absolute limits.

Cohesion on the whole is something that this game has a ton of in ways similar to this, which is surprising given how abstract and psychedelic it can often get. You have a bunch of these moments that go completely off the rails visually and yet, once you begin to better understand the game and its world, none of this ever feels entirely out of nowhere, it all has a reason to exist and is all integral to how the game functions. Being able to craft multiple encounters that reach incredible levels of flashiness and creativity in the way that this game does, all without sacrificing any part of its identity or feeling superfluous is one of its strongest characteristics from where I stand.

The abstract nature of Everhood's presentation is also very strong in the way it contributes to its surreal atmosphere along with some of its deeper narrative themes. The world feels so sparse, yet full of colour in a way that you never feel able to get a full grasp on the situation. It's hard to tell how happy a lot of these characters really are and how much they're merely trying to pass time in the endless expanse of nothingness that they live in. The more atmospheric approach to the world design here often also feels more reminiscent of games like Yume Nikki beyond anything else, which is a massive plus in my eyes, especially one that understands how to use the surreal, often nonsensical composition of the world to its benefit. Beyond the artstyle and vibe of some of the comedy, I really cannot say in good faith that this is an Undertale clone either, especially from a thematic standpoint and the way that while Undertale focused on the concept of humanising fictional entities and the player's relationship with their protagonist character, Everhood instead uses the medium to ponder more abstract concepts relating to the nature of existence itself. I was surprised with the way that this game would often reflect a lot of Buddhist ideologies about what life truly is, and what it means to exist, using an interactive medium to allow the audience to become further immersed in the world that was created in an attempt to allow them to more strongly question what the game was telling them. This also served to strengthen the moral dilemma that the player is then faced with, as while there is a "true ending" so to speak, it's not particularly black and white in what is considered the morally correct option, which can be seen both as a way to make the game feel less didactic on the whole, and also could be seen as representing the endlessly complex and nuanced nature of life itself.

Overall, Everhood is a game that subverts so many expectations and does so in a constantly engaging way. What might seem like something that wears its influences a bit too heavily on its sleeve to begin with quickly evolves into something wholly unique. There are so many idiosyncrasies present here, ranging from the intentionally sparse overworld being contrasted by these high octane, sensory overload inducing combat sequences, to the way that the game keeps itself so vague without feeling as if it's being contrived about it. Everhood is a careful balancing act that feels as if it could easily have fallen apart at every step of the way, yet rarely does so, and it's truly an amazing experience that I would recommend wholeheartedly. Don't be deterred by the game's surface level appearance, there's so much more to it.

Honestly decent parkour fun. Some of the best obbys in Roblox are still way superior to this but the differing climb mechanics felt unique enough. I fell about 6 times and beat the game in 115 minutes. Only big negatives is that its real scummy when some blocks near the top fall away when you touch them, i was fine since ive seen countless clips of people falling to that dastardly cheese. Still think that those falling ones ruin some of the skilled experience, especially on first runs.

Def a trend game as its not unique and uses ai voices, even i have thought about making an insane parkour game before that climbs up with no checkpoints..... although.... i would give the player better control and a less unreliable movement system. Its been done before too, even in Roblox. Have to give a thumbs up for its price and worth the try if its on sale.

Fantasticaneer, I kneel before your offerings to the Egglike genre.

This is the game that started a cult genre called Egglikes, which are basically really weird walking sims where you collect stuff, do some platforming challenges of questionable quality, and encounter strange memes.

One of the major components of a Egglike is making sure the graphics look archaic enough without going overboard in making it look bad. The graphics of an Egglike aim to capture the feel of playing someone's first Unity project, mainly because that's what these probably are.

Fantasticaneer pioneered the Egglike genre with this game, The Fantastic Game. In this game, you explore an aimless world hunting for dollar bills. You'll explore weird areas, meet eggs that sing Smash Mouth's All Star, and more in this very short romp.

If you like janky first-person exploration-based platformers, The Fantastic Game is for you!

By the time the guys at Id were working on Quake, CD collections of WADs for Doom had become a cottage industry. Id wasn't too happy seeing WADs sold in stores because - despite saying the creation of WADs was ok in the Doom license agreement and giving the first chapter of the original Doom out for free - they didn't make no damn money off them. The aforementioned license issue would likely complicate any litigation taken against people selling WADs, so Id came up with a more creative solution: beat them at their own game.

Id contracted several designers to work on the Master Levels, a 21 mission WAD compilation released alongside Maximum Doom, which itself contained over a thousand pre-existing WADs of highly variable quality. Among these designers were Tim Willits, who would go on to enjoy a long career at Id and contribute work to the Quake series and Doom 3, Christen Klie, who would later work for LucasArts on games like Rogue Squadron, and the late John Anderson, better known as "Dr. Sleep," who after playing Master Levels has become my nemesis. The amount that each of Master Levels' six designers contributed is uneven, though Klie, Dr. Sleep, and Sverre André Kvernmo (known as Cranium) designed the most missions overall. All this to say that the level of quality is pretty god damn inconsistent, and some of my least favorite designers contributed the most to the project.

There is no proper level progression in Master Levels. Instead, you select which mission you want to play from an ordered list and are bounced back to the level select screen once the mission is complete. Because there is no standard level-to-level progression, you begin each mission with only the handgun, and certain designers apparently like to take advantage of this by placing spongy enemies directly in front of you so you're eating fireballs the second a mission begins. Others, the angels that they are, will drop you directly in front of a shotgun. The first mission, Attack by Tim Willits, is an easy enough entry point to the Master Levels, with a fairly low difficulty ceiling and an easily navigable environment to run through. The first five missions in general are deceptively fun, well-designed maps that makes it seem like the team Id assembled knew their way around Doom maybe not quite as much as Romero or Petersen but close enough as to be capable of creating something enjoyable.

It all craps the bed shortly after that, though. Any problem you might have had with Doom II is likely exacerbated here to an almost ridiculous extreme. Hey, do you like invisible walls and switches that open up panels to other switches that open panels to switches that open panels to switches? Well then play Master Levels, freak! You want BIG levels? Take a stroll in Manor.WAD, a map so huge it crashes some versions of the game! Is Doom your favorite puzzle game? You're gonna love spending a whole-ass hour in Dr. Sleep's missions trying to figure out what the hell you're even supposed to do, you dumb bastard! See: footage of me beating a Dr. Sleep level not realizing he designed the next one.

I don't want to be too vitriolic towards any particular designer, particularly because Master Levels appears to be where many of them got their start, but there's a number of missions that just feel like someone had their head up their own ass. [NAME EXPUNGED] starting a level where you have to shoot a locked door to open it, smelling he own farts. There are some ideas here about what you can do with Doom's limited toolset and how you can force the players to reconsider what they know about the game's core loop, but a lot of the execution is sloppy and almost necessitates playing with a guide open. There also seems to be a fundamental lack of understanding about enemy placement shared between the designers, and it is not uncommon to walk into rooms absolutely filled with damn near every enemy type in the game, all shooting you at once from every angle. Whether this was done in a misguided attempt to add challenge or to provide some variety while running through the steps of a convoluted puzzle, I don't know, and I mostly found it to all be so haphazard. There's one level where you have to enter and exit a central structure a few times, and each time you progress to the next "phase" of the mission more revenants spawn outside, but nothing about the terrain makes fighting them fun, and it just becomes a chore you have to get done before you can get back to the mission.

Like I said, a lot of Master Levels' best missions are front loaded. Things get shaky between missions 6-10, and 11-20 are a total shitshow. I'll cop to the fact that I did not, strictly speaking, finish two of the missions. Both times I was too low on ammo and health to endure the onslaught of arch-viles and mancubus' spammed around the exit, and since I had all the keys collected and saw everything else the level had to offer, I just decided I was done. Considering there is no level-to-level progression, there's little incentive to see a mission through if it's really just not jiving with you. It is an unfortunate positive that Master Levels allows you to play less of it.

I wanted to treat Master Levels as its own review, because while it may be packaged with Doom II, it does not progress that game's narrative nor does it serve as a follow-up episode in the same way Thy Flesh Consumed or Sigil do for the original game. Likewise, the unique conditions under which Master Levels was made further contribute towards the sense that it's really it's own thing. For those reasons, I don't think you should play this right after finishing Doom II. I had some problems with that game, but Master Levels suffers from some truly heinous design issues, and by treating it as a continuation you're only going to risk ruining your perception of Doom II.