Vondervent
2020
Demon's Souls, unlike its fellows Soulslikes, hasn't surprised me because I was already expecting a grotesquely brillant game. A thing about these games I will never get tired of is the majestic balance between mystery and progression. They present themselves with a rich, profound narrative without ever sacrificing the eerie, ever-blossoming awe that comes with its sense of mystery is genuinely beyond me to understand. It feels magical how no matter how much time and thought I put into piecing together worlds such as Boletaria, I never lose the wonderlust to learn more.
It's honestly remarkably hard to come up with the words, as everything (and I do mean -- everything) in this game comes together so seamlessly it's hard to pick something apart. The lore, the world building, environments, gameplay mechanics and characters feel like a unit working towards the same themes and concepts. It's honestly jarring as, because of the tight link and reasoning behind all elements of the game, no matter what you primarily focus on, you'll always have at least an idea of what the current area or boss is about.
This makes progression in this game feel great. There's value in not immediately comprehending what is happening in a story, but it can also be pretty frustrating. I really don't like when a game tries to be all mysterious by shoving up your face something that'll only make the slightest sense later on. It personally just encourages me to grow passive on anything I learn or go through until the game decides to provide me with actual information. Of course, Demon's Souls makes a lot more sense once you have the full picture, but not because later on you had this huge twist, it is instead due to you simply having played more and eventually realizing things that were already there. I'm definitely not against plot twists or "blindness", but I'm glad Demon's Souls chose a subtler approach. It doesn't take away from the mystery, it just makes the smaller things worth more; every step, every inch forward teaches you more about Demon's Souls' world as you gradually grow more connected to it. That happens naturally as you do as much as swing a sword. It's not that the actual "answer" for Demon's Souls mysteries is necessarily better than other games', it just showed a lasting competence as to how to treat "not knowing". It's a constant, a process, that lasts beyond the game.
On that light, "feeling good" would mean very little if the actual content weren't as rich, as complex and emotional as it is. Without going into much detail, Demon's Souls philosophical commentary is shockingly fascinating, given the simple basis. And again, as the game's interconnectivity is enormous, you don't run short of references and angles to think about. This game made me think about my life, and all the years I'm yet to live. It has taught me about hylomorphism and other philosophies. Honestly, my levels of interest in this game are as high as they were before I played it; there's just too much more content I'm eager to uncover. It's just that Demon's Souls has a mesmerizing reading on philosophical inquiries I have always been interested about.
Other faculties absolutely worth mentioning are the graphics and movement; the game is THE most fun and THE best looking I have ever played. With high-end textures, the inspired artistic directions prevail remarkably. The worlds feel distinct from one another but equally vivid and engaging. My favorite is Stonefang, I love how it reminds me of archiology in the sense that, the more you descent into the mountain, the more historied is the ground, like I'm uncovering ancient myths and truths all in real time. All the worlds have something of that nature going for them, which makes them equally important to me. Demon's Souls in particular works in a way that, despite of its lack of in-game physical interconnectivity, all the levels come together beautifully.
And though this is minor, I also really appreciate how most armors and weapons are looted from the world, instead of being a grindfest with low droprates like Dark Souls. I obviously hate the remake's Deluxe Edition adding cool new gear just to lock them to new characters, but Demon's Souls is still a lot less messy to get everything than it's From Software counterparts. By the end of my journey, I had almost all of them, which really pleases me.
Demon's Souls is a realized game, but not fully so. Most bosses and areas are good, but somewhat undercooked. Some are straight-up pointless (WHAT are the Maneaters??). There are too many areas and bosses that could've been a lot better. When I say that "all things come together" in this game, I'm actually excluding a few bad apples (Maneaters!!). I feel ok with doing that because those are the minority, and even though I wouldn't go as far as to say having to fight two random chimeras for no reason doesn't taint the game dimmer, but it ultimately still doesn't deflect its positive effects. There are a handful of things I don't like about this game, which stop me from rating it higher, but those weaker ends are too easy to dismiss given how good and trully well connected the rest is.
Demon's Souls is a near-perfect experience. The graphics are stunning, the philosophy and in-real life metaphors are captivating, the engaging world building and charmingly simpler basis when compared to later Souls entries are the things to cross my mind and heart when thinking of this game. There's no foreseeable end to my excitement in regards to my future with Demon's Souls.
It's honestly remarkably hard to come up with the words, as everything (and I do mean -- everything) in this game comes together so seamlessly it's hard to pick something apart. The lore, the world building, environments, gameplay mechanics and characters feel like a unit working towards the same themes and concepts. It's honestly jarring as, because of the tight link and reasoning behind all elements of the game, no matter what you primarily focus on, you'll always have at least an idea of what the current area or boss is about.
This makes progression in this game feel great. There's value in not immediately comprehending what is happening in a story, but it can also be pretty frustrating. I really don't like when a game tries to be all mysterious by shoving up your face something that'll only make the slightest sense later on. It personally just encourages me to grow passive on anything I learn or go through until the game decides to provide me with actual information. Of course, Demon's Souls makes a lot more sense once you have the full picture, but not because later on you had this huge twist, it is instead due to you simply having played more and eventually realizing things that were already there. I'm definitely not against plot twists or "blindness", but I'm glad Demon's Souls chose a subtler approach. It doesn't take away from the mystery, it just makes the smaller things worth more; every step, every inch forward teaches you more about Demon's Souls' world as you gradually grow more connected to it. That happens naturally as you do as much as swing a sword. It's not that the actual "answer" for Demon's Souls mysteries is necessarily better than other games', it just showed a lasting competence as to how to treat "not knowing". It's a constant, a process, that lasts beyond the game.
On that light, "feeling good" would mean very little if the actual content weren't as rich, as complex and emotional as it is. Without going into much detail, Demon's Souls philosophical commentary is shockingly fascinating, given the simple basis. And again, as the game's interconnectivity is enormous, you don't run short of references and angles to think about. This game made me think about my life, and all the years I'm yet to live. It has taught me about hylomorphism and other philosophies. Honestly, my levels of interest in this game are as high as they were before I played it; there's just too much more content I'm eager to uncover. It's just that Demon's Souls has a mesmerizing reading on philosophical inquiries I have always been interested about.
Other faculties absolutely worth mentioning are the graphics and movement; the game is THE most fun and THE best looking I have ever played. With high-end textures, the inspired artistic directions prevail remarkably. The worlds feel distinct from one another but equally vivid and engaging. My favorite is Stonefang, I love how it reminds me of archiology in the sense that, the more you descent into the mountain, the more historied is the ground, like I'm uncovering ancient myths and truths all in real time. All the worlds have something of that nature going for them, which makes them equally important to me. Demon's Souls in particular works in a way that, despite of its lack of in-game physical interconnectivity, all the levels come together beautifully.
And though this is minor, I also really appreciate how most armors and weapons are looted from the world, instead of being a grindfest with low droprates like Dark Souls. I obviously hate the remake's Deluxe Edition adding cool new gear just to lock them to new characters, but Demon's Souls is still a lot less messy to get everything than it's From Software counterparts. By the end of my journey, I had almost all of them, which really pleases me.
Demon's Souls is a realized game, but not fully so. Most bosses and areas are good, but somewhat undercooked. Some are straight-up pointless (WHAT are the Maneaters??). There are too many areas and bosses that could've been a lot better. When I say that "all things come together" in this game, I'm actually excluding a few bad apples (Maneaters!!). I feel ok with doing that because those are the minority, and even though I wouldn't go as far as to say having to fight two random chimeras for no reason doesn't taint the game dimmer, but it ultimately still doesn't deflect its positive effects. There are a handful of things I don't like about this game, which stop me from rating it higher, but those weaker ends are too easy to dismiss given how good and trully well connected the rest is.
Demon's Souls is a near-perfect experience. The graphics are stunning, the philosophy and in-real life metaphors are captivating, the engaging world building and charmingly simpler basis when compared to later Souls entries are the things to cross my mind and heart when thinking of this game. There's no foreseeable end to my excitement in regards to my future with Demon's Souls.
2013
If you've ever dreamt of becoming a therapist, take this as a learning opportunity because this review is synonym to a ranting section.
I say that because Grand Theft Auto V is an extremely frustrating game. I'm honestly so tired of games like this. There are good things about this game, but there also are some that are unreasonably annoying, overcomplicated or just downright stupid.
If you switched every single thing I dislike about this game for food, you'd be able to open a fucking restaurant for how fucking big my list is. I really don't wanna talk about it so I'll just as give a sweetener: I'll have you know I almost broke my new controller because of this game and I'm not even talking about gaming rage, it was a stupid side-mission that wanted me to smash my X button for 30 FUCKING MINUTES, not only was my arm a wreck halfway in, as it's actually dangerous for your equipment. No matter how you play it, what you do, the risk is still there and this game goes lower, it's filled with stupid shit.
Asides from the power/money fantasy, this game's selling-point is how massively big it is. I think huge games with a seemingly endless content to engage with is very appealing. I enjoy when things I like give me windows to keep coming back to them. More content, alternative ways to play and different activities, storylines and possibilities are Los Santos' middle name. But what most of those things actually are is just a series of overwhelmingly and unnecessarily time-consuming (and stressful) tasks.
The stupid fucking collectibles are a great example of how Grand Theft Auto deceives you into wasting time with it; There are almost 200 of them! I have absolutely no trouble with a huge amount of collectibles, some of my all-time favorites have just as many items to collect, but they are a lot of different, [substantial] things that add to the overall experience in their respective games, GTA V just has 50 of 4 different collectible sets. Those are HOURS you'd spend just looking for the same thing with NOTHING in between. The "rewards" are mostly just 30s cutscenes and a step towards 100%. Not to mention knife flights and stunt jumps... Ugh...
I hold very negative feelings towards too big a portion of this game, but not all of it. The campaign is not perfect, but the trio is great. Franklin, Michael and Trevor positively surprised me. The overall cast isn't really explored, but the focus on the three enabled them to be great protagonists. The different histories and personalities are amazing; each one adds an unvaluable layer to the trama and I truly couldn't get enough of their chemistry. I dislike most activities, but my favorite by far were the hang outs, to see more of them is what kept me on the game for so long.
The missions are mostly good, too. Strangers and Freaks are really cool, they add to the game's exotic vibes while also expanding on the characters. Mary-Ann's missions were really interesting because it illustrated how each main character dealt with her jazz, Minute Men showed a different side of Trevor, Tonya gives Franklin a much needed background and Michael's lack of missions also tell a lot about his character. They bring the characters and the world together in a seamless, elegant way. Out of the 69 (nice) story missions in the game, I've enjoyed enough of them to safely say I like it.
Another good point of GTA's is how alive the world feels, there are so many belivable things happening all at once it feels like no walk around the block will ever be the same. Most activities are more trouble than they're worth, but a lot of the smaller things got a "cool, I can do that!" out of me. The changes of climate, vast NPCs and buildings are details that mount up to something really special.
Grand Theft Auto V can be extremely frustrating, but it can also be relaxing. Overall, it's something that made me hate it as a game, appreciate it as a work of art and, ultimately, enjoy it as a story. I won't be coming back for more anytime soon, but I'll keep what I got.
I say that because Grand Theft Auto V is an extremely frustrating game. I'm honestly so tired of games like this. There are good things about this game, but there also are some that are unreasonably annoying, overcomplicated or just downright stupid.
If you switched every single thing I dislike about this game for food, you'd be able to open a fucking restaurant for how fucking big my list is. I really don't wanna talk about it so I'll just as give a sweetener: I'll have you know I almost broke my new controller because of this game and I'm not even talking about gaming rage, it was a stupid side-mission that wanted me to smash my X button for 30 FUCKING MINUTES, not only was my arm a wreck halfway in, as it's actually dangerous for your equipment. No matter how you play it, what you do, the risk is still there and this game goes lower, it's filled with stupid shit.
Asides from the power/money fantasy, this game's selling-point is how massively big it is. I think huge games with a seemingly endless content to engage with is very appealing. I enjoy when things I like give me windows to keep coming back to them. More content, alternative ways to play and different activities, storylines and possibilities are Los Santos' middle name. But what most of those things actually are is just a series of overwhelmingly and unnecessarily time-consuming (and stressful) tasks.
The stupid fucking collectibles are a great example of how Grand Theft Auto deceives you into wasting time with it; There are almost 200 of them! I have absolutely no trouble with a huge amount of collectibles, some of my all-time favorites have just as many items to collect, but they are a lot of different, [substantial] things that add to the overall experience in their respective games, GTA V just has 50 of 4 different collectible sets. Those are HOURS you'd spend just looking for the same thing with NOTHING in between. The "rewards" are mostly just 30s cutscenes and a step towards 100%. Not to mention knife flights and stunt jumps... Ugh...
I hold very negative feelings towards too big a portion of this game, but not all of it. The campaign is not perfect, but the trio is great. Franklin, Michael and Trevor positively surprised me. The overall cast isn't really explored, but the focus on the three enabled them to be great protagonists. The different histories and personalities are amazing; each one adds an unvaluable layer to the trama and I truly couldn't get enough of their chemistry. I dislike most activities, but my favorite by far were the hang outs, to see more of them is what kept me on the game for so long.
The missions are mostly good, too. Strangers and Freaks are really cool, they add to the game's exotic vibes while also expanding on the characters. Mary-Ann's missions were really interesting because it illustrated how each main character dealt with her jazz, Minute Men showed a different side of Trevor, Tonya gives Franklin a much needed background and Michael's lack of missions also tell a lot about his character. They bring the characters and the world together in a seamless, elegant way. Out of the 69 (nice) story missions in the game, I've enjoyed enough of them to safely say I like it.
Another good point of GTA's is how alive the world feels, there are so many belivable things happening all at once it feels like no walk around the block will ever be the same. Most activities are more trouble than they're worth, but a lot of the smaller things got a "cool, I can do that!" out of me. The changes of climate, vast NPCs and buildings are details that mount up to something really special.
Grand Theft Auto V can be extremely frustrating, but it can also be relaxing. Overall, it's something that made me hate it as a game, appreciate it as a work of art and, ultimately, enjoy it as a story. I won't be coming back for more anytime soon, but I'll keep what I got.
'Tis an entry that did naught but cement itself as one of my favorite videogames of all time. It's downright impressive how consistently these games tip perfection.
One of my favorite things about Dark Souls II is the way the game paces and structures itself. Drangleic manages not only to fully (and I do mean fully) encapsulate my attention and curiosity as it brims with life, or has just enough of it for me to feel its death. In stories, a kingdom's fall stales quick if it couldn't be interesting enough during its rise and peak. And Drangleic's? It's fascinating.
Dark Souls II's technical quality is just unimpeachable; going off atmosphere alone, very few experiences come close to this. There's just something about the visual effects, aesthetics and textures that hit a strong balance between realism and dark fantasy. This game is gorgeous. In multiple occasions I found myself just... having to stop and take it all in. Majula is, of course, the first example that comes to mind when illustrating Dark Souls II's inherent capacity to make me be one with its world. Its soothing beauty and calmness trully feel like the light beyond the tunnel, a genuinely tranquil haven whose quality perpetuates throughout the entire game.
My throat thralls at the sheer magnitude and beauty so many areas in this game manage to convey. And the surprisingly rich amount of variety certainly helps to hammer home how credible Drangleic is as a nation: it has a capitol, port, prison, military settlements, villages and more! Not to mention how since Drangleic wasn't as ancient as Lordran during Dark Souls 1's events, it is easier to imagine what Drangleic was at its peak, seducing my imagination all the more.
Whereas Dark Souls had an emphasis on grander philosophical theses, political tramas and such, I feel like its sequel's themes are more personal ones. And before I get to dissect them, I'm urged to commend yet again the game's world-class structure, because it doesn't get more idyllic than when blooming its themes. Y'know, I very much enjoy when a work of art takes inspiration from the real world and turns it into an important piece of its own story. Why I'm bringing that up? Because Dark Souls II not just referenced some occult belief or piece of real-life history--no, it turned the wheel on itself and used from the first game's own lore as metaphors to enchance its narrative. I doesn't just expands on the first game's lore, it gives it a new meaning and that is brilliant.
Also, Dark Souls II is a surprisingly poignant game. By placing more focus on characters rather than ancient history, II managed to have a more compelling cast and, by extent, more tragedy as the morally-gray decisions made by some of them can be felt more intensely (as well as its consequences). And given that, I'd like to stress again how great it was to experience a game with so much depth and emotion centering it. Even without the connections to the first game this is great. When II has but its own feet to stand on, it hits the kind of excellency that's impossible to unshackle my mind from. The reason why I love videogames is because I love exploring different worlds and having my imagination and critical thinking provoked, of course, but it is also because of the intense emotions that these fictional characters and moments are capable of causing me to feel; the awakening of "sides" of me I didn't even know I had and reminding me of what kind of person I want to be. Dark Souls II does all that and then some.
No eye is too keen, no thought too deep; I feel like I could replay Dark Souls II forever and keep finding details and references. The deeper I'm in its iceberg, the harder I fall in love with it. From the very second I click my final dot in this review I'll hop right onto III because I'm just that content with From Software games.
One of my favorite things about Dark Souls II is the way the game paces and structures itself. Drangleic manages not only to fully (and I do mean fully) encapsulate my attention and curiosity as it brims with life, or has just enough of it for me to feel its death. In stories, a kingdom's fall stales quick if it couldn't be interesting enough during its rise and peak. And Drangleic's? It's fascinating.
Dark Souls II's technical quality is just unimpeachable; going off atmosphere alone, very few experiences come close to this. There's just something about the visual effects, aesthetics and textures that hit a strong balance between realism and dark fantasy. This game is gorgeous. In multiple occasions I found myself just... having to stop and take it all in. Majula is, of course, the first example that comes to mind when illustrating Dark Souls II's inherent capacity to make me be one with its world. Its soothing beauty and calmness trully feel like the light beyond the tunnel, a genuinely tranquil haven whose quality perpetuates throughout the entire game.
My throat thralls at the sheer magnitude and beauty so many areas in this game manage to convey. And the surprisingly rich amount of variety certainly helps to hammer home how credible Drangleic is as a nation: it has a capitol, port, prison, military settlements, villages and more! Not to mention how since Drangleic wasn't as ancient as Lordran during Dark Souls 1's events, it is easier to imagine what Drangleic was at its peak, seducing my imagination all the more.
Whereas Dark Souls had an emphasis on grander philosophical theses, political tramas and such, I feel like its sequel's themes are more personal ones. And before I get to dissect them, I'm urged to commend yet again the game's world-class structure, because it doesn't get more idyllic than when blooming its themes. Y'know, I very much enjoy when a work of art takes inspiration from the real world and turns it into an important piece of its own story. Why I'm bringing that up? Because Dark Souls II not just referenced some occult belief or piece of real-life history--no, it turned the wheel on itself and used from the first game's own lore as metaphors to enchance its narrative. I doesn't just expands on the first game's lore, it gives it a new meaning and that is brilliant.
Also, Dark Souls II is a surprisingly poignant game. By placing more focus on characters rather than ancient history, II managed to have a more compelling cast and, by extent, more tragedy as the morally-gray decisions made by some of them can be felt more intensely (as well as its consequences). And given that, I'd like to stress again how great it was to experience a game with so much depth and emotion centering it. Even without the connections to the first game this is great. When II has but its own feet to stand on, it hits the kind of excellency that's impossible to unshackle my mind from. The reason why I love videogames is because I love exploring different worlds and having my imagination and critical thinking provoked, of course, but it is also because of the intense emotions that these fictional characters and moments are capable of causing me to feel; the awakening of "sides" of me I didn't even know I had and reminding me of what kind of person I want to be. Dark Souls II does all that and then some.
No eye is too keen, no thought too deep; I feel like I could replay Dark Souls II forever and keep finding details and references. The deeper I'm in its iceberg, the harder I fall in love with it. From the very second I click my final dot in this review I'll hop right onto III because I'm just that content with From Software games.
This review contains spoilers
So, if you're reading this with any intentions of finishing it, then you'd better get yourself comfortable as I'll take my sweet time dissecting this gruesomely spectacular masterpiece and disaster.
For starters, I usually write something off right after I beat the game, but with Dark Souls I felt the need to see all the endings before doing so, and regretted it halfway through my NG+ run. So, you see, this game fucking sucks; It actually made me physically fucking ill at times. Like, what the actual fuck were those mid to lategame segments!? Walking through extremely tight spots with precision platforming, through rivers of lava and even through actually fucking nothing at one part. The game was clearly designed with the intention to fuck with the player, and while I understand most logic behind the biggest Ls the game invites you to play through, I still find it unexcusable to purposedly make parts to mock the player and delay his pilgrimage.
I say this after going through most the game for a second time: it still baffles me.
Level design aside, what actually makes me snarl and gnash my teeth in sheer, unwavering fury is, of course, the actual difficulty. I have quite a few "hard games" under my belt, but Dark Souls is the only one whose hardest part comes from how old it is. The Chosen Undead animations and responses take FOREVER to begin and end, it's also so easy to get locked on a combo where once I'm down, I am NOT getting up in time not to get knocked down again and again until all I can do is witness my 100th death. And the funny part? I have to run through the abhorrent levels each time I die because autosaves weren't invented in 2011 apparently. There are some close-ish bonfires closer to bosses, but most of them are hidden so wtf? I will die standing by how games with bosses this hard should have saves immediately before them. Or at least VISIBLE closer bonfires. I will admit that my those complaints sound small, but all those minor things result in minutes, if not hours where I do fucking nothing but execute muscle memory running back to the part I died... believe me when I say they slowly but surely burnt the hell out of me.
And, like, the thing is that the levels are also bland as fuck. It wouldn't be half as painful to die if the scenarios I had to see so many times had some level of depth. I find the lore incredible (will elaborate on that in a bit), but location-wise, it delivers very little in the way of immersion. Some areas look pretty or at least aren't Blighttown (which is a plus), but they're also too rudimentary and it feels like I'm forever wandering through a hollow husk of what should've looked decent / provide me with visual lore details. I believe that feeling could make for a good atmospheric experience feeling the loss of a fallen kingdom far from its glory days if the game's levels didn't feel so shallow; they just have nothing besides enemies and F* you's in the shape of traps and whatnot.
In Dark Souls, the Chosen Undead follows his epic quest through environments I very much like (The Duke's Archives, Tomb of the Giants and Anor Londo--just to name a few), and while there ARE details in the areas' structure and design, those feel like the exception and not the rule. Most areas feel not like an actual place where normal, living people could have normal lives. Most areas are just bland terrains for the Chosen Undead to tediously travel through as the only sound to fill my ears are his armor dangling around his body. Besides that, there is NOTHING. The intertwinement between scenarios is nice, but it is also diminished when most areas feel so incomplete.
But you know what's not diminished? Dark Souls. Even after all that, I still simply love Dark Souls. I hate how the game's low is an abyss of misery but the high is that much but in good. The story-telling style FromSoftware goes for is, to me, the pinnacle of imagination-inducing, thought-provoking bliss. There is just no end for how engaged I feel with Dark Souls' philosophical points and themes.
The game's areas are mostly underwhelming, sure, but what the bigger picture is in the lore is undeniably spectacular. Its unspoken events are those of violence, anger, fear, sadness, of tragedy and of hopefulness. An undying world brought down by a specie's fear of obsolescence and up again by a selfless warrior whose actions can either dim the light or do nothing. It's beyond profound and fascinating.
And the best part? Dark Souls' story is great and ties up greatly with its lore. I love it when the art I consume makes me take an active stance and actually think and digest its events. And, with one of the most eerily enchanting melodies I've ever heard in my life, Dark Souls' ending credits brought me to unforgettable emotional highs to levels only masterpieces such as this are capable of achieving.
Dark Souls is a game I hate playing, but also love. Specially after being finally unshackled by its semi-unsurmountable BS, I can confidently say that this game among the very best out there.
For starters, I usually write something off right after I beat the game, but with Dark Souls I felt the need to see all the endings before doing so, and regretted it halfway through my NG+ run. So, you see, this game fucking sucks; It actually made me physically fucking ill at times. Like, what the actual fuck were those mid to lategame segments!? Walking through extremely tight spots with precision platforming, through rivers of lava and even through actually fucking nothing at one part. The game was clearly designed with the intention to fuck with the player, and while I understand most logic behind the biggest Ls the game invites you to play through, I still find it unexcusable to purposedly make parts to mock the player and delay his pilgrimage.
I say this after going through most the game for a second time: it still baffles me.
Level design aside, what actually makes me snarl and gnash my teeth in sheer, unwavering fury is, of course, the actual difficulty. I have quite a few "hard games" under my belt, but Dark Souls is the only one whose hardest part comes from how old it is. The Chosen Undead animations and responses take FOREVER to begin and end, it's also so easy to get locked on a combo where once I'm down, I am NOT getting up in time not to get knocked down again and again until all I can do is witness my 100th death. And the funny part? I have to run through the abhorrent levels each time I die because autosaves weren't invented in 2011 apparently. There are some close-ish bonfires closer to bosses, but most of them are hidden so wtf? I will die standing by how games with bosses this hard should have saves immediately before them. Or at least VISIBLE closer bonfires. I will admit that my those complaints sound small, but all those minor things result in minutes, if not hours where I do fucking nothing but execute muscle memory running back to the part I died... believe me when I say they slowly but surely burnt the hell out of me.
And, like, the thing is that the levels are also bland as fuck. It wouldn't be half as painful to die if the scenarios I had to see so many times had some level of depth. I find the lore incredible (will elaborate on that in a bit), but location-wise, it delivers very little in the way of immersion. Some areas look pretty or at least aren't Blighttown (which is a plus), but they're also too rudimentary and it feels like I'm forever wandering through a hollow husk of what should've looked decent / provide me with visual lore details. I believe that feeling could make for a good atmospheric experience feeling the loss of a fallen kingdom far from its glory days if the game's levels didn't feel so shallow; they just have nothing besides enemies and F* you's in the shape of traps and whatnot.
In Dark Souls, the Chosen Undead follows his epic quest through environments I very much like (The Duke's Archives, Tomb of the Giants and Anor Londo--just to name a few), and while there ARE details in the areas' structure and design, those feel like the exception and not the rule. Most areas feel not like an actual place where normal, living people could have normal lives. Most areas are just bland terrains for the Chosen Undead to tediously travel through as the only sound to fill my ears are his armor dangling around his body. Besides that, there is NOTHING. The intertwinement between scenarios is nice, but it is also diminished when most areas feel so incomplete.
But you know what's not diminished? Dark Souls. Even after all that, I still simply love Dark Souls. I hate how the game's low is an abyss of misery but the high is that much but in good. The story-telling style FromSoftware goes for is, to me, the pinnacle of imagination-inducing, thought-provoking bliss. There is just no end for how engaged I feel with Dark Souls' philosophical points and themes.
The game's areas are mostly underwhelming, sure, but what the bigger picture is in the lore is undeniably spectacular. Its unspoken events are those of violence, anger, fear, sadness, of tragedy and of hopefulness. An undying world brought down by a specie's fear of obsolescence and up again by a selfless warrior whose actions can either dim the light or do nothing. It's beyond profound and fascinating.
And the best part? Dark Souls' story is great and ties up greatly with its lore. I love it when the art I consume makes me take an active stance and actually think and digest its events. And, with one of the most eerily enchanting melodies I've ever heard in my life, Dark Souls' ending credits brought me to unforgettable emotional highs to levels only masterpieces such as this are capable of achieving.
Dark Souls is a game I hate playing, but also love. Specially after being finally unshackled by its semi-unsurmountable BS, I can confidently say that this game among the very best out there.
Unlike Miles Morales, this is a rather underwhelming deviance from what's otherwise a great story.
Saying that I am disappointed with this game would be an utter understatement; after a game as good as Marvel's first Spider-Man and Into the Spider-Verse, I had all the reasons to believe this game would be just as good... It wasn't. Into the Spider-Verse really made me fall in love with Miles Morales as a character with his brilliantly told themes and nuances whereas Marvel's Spider-Man: Miles Morales merely scratches the surface of those things.
Even though the average playtime of it goes well beyond Spider-Verse's, it really has nothing that the movie doesn't. Even the trust-issues between Miles and Phin, which is one of the biggest plot-points throughout the game, is simply superior with Miles & Gwen in the movie.
This game's narrative is frustrating to watch, too. Every time the lightning strikes and actual good dialogue is found, it's cut-off short for some random action scene. Leaving the characters and the plot with just the bare minimum for a context to exist. And as asides from like, one collectible set, there is really nothing to do in the open world that reflects on Miles' personality, what we are left with is a husk of a good guy; this is honestly fucking sad given how the movie or even the first game's Peter are great characters with very well-stablished histories. This Miles is nothing. This cast is nothing and this game does nothing interesting. With Into the Spider-Verse, there is no reason to play this.
To be fair, a few good things about Into the Spider-Verse and the first game carry over to here. I personally prefer Into the Spider-Verse's soundtrack, but this game's is not bad at all, it's really cool to swing across Manhattan with rap and hip-hop music. Asides from that (I kid you not) there is nothing positive about this game.
This is just a cheesy, generic and unimspired disaster riding on the successes of ACTUAL good stories. The only reason why I don't rate this lower is because, even though there is nothing good, it's at least kinda short and (besides a few puzzles) nothing gameplay related was particularly annoying. I honestly feel like Jonah Jameson shit-talking Spider-Man, and I like that more than I like this game.
Saying that I am disappointed with this game would be an utter understatement; after a game as good as Marvel's first Spider-Man and Into the Spider-Verse, I had all the reasons to believe this game would be just as good... It wasn't. Into the Spider-Verse really made me fall in love with Miles Morales as a character with his brilliantly told themes and nuances whereas Marvel's Spider-Man: Miles Morales merely scratches the surface of those things.
Even though the average playtime of it goes well beyond Spider-Verse's, it really has nothing that the movie doesn't. Even the trust-issues between Miles and Phin, which is one of the biggest plot-points throughout the game, is simply superior with Miles & Gwen in the movie.
This game's narrative is frustrating to watch, too. Every time the lightning strikes and actual good dialogue is found, it's cut-off short for some random action scene. Leaving the characters and the plot with just the bare minimum for a context to exist. And as asides from like, one collectible set, there is really nothing to do in the open world that reflects on Miles' personality, what we are left with is a husk of a good guy; this is honestly fucking sad given how the movie or even the first game's Peter are great characters with very well-stablished histories. This Miles is nothing. This cast is nothing and this game does nothing interesting. With Into the Spider-Verse, there is no reason to play this.
To be fair, a few good things about Into the Spider-Verse and the first game carry over to here. I personally prefer Into the Spider-Verse's soundtrack, but this game's is not bad at all, it's really cool to swing across Manhattan with rap and hip-hop music. Asides from that (I kid you not) there is nothing positive about this game.
This is just a cheesy, generic and unimspired disaster riding on the successes of ACTUAL good stories. The only reason why I don't rate this lower is because, even though there is nothing good, it's at least kinda short and (besides a few puzzles) nothing gameplay related was particularly annoying. I honestly feel like Jonah Jameson shit-talking Spider-Man, and I like that more than I like this game.
The perfect addition that not only complements the game, but also highlights its brilliance and competence. It was a surprisingly character-driven DLC. Whereas Bloodborne was a more atmospheric and grotesque experience, The Old Hunters centered around the Hunters you face.
I absolutely fucking loved this shit; like, there's no need to babble further on how much I like Bloodborne, but I have to applaud how the DLC managed to add to the base game without being "more of the same", it had a unique taste especially in terms of the cast. My biggest issue with the original game pretty much was The Old Hunders' biggest strength. The DLC not only brings excellent characters but adds extra layers to the existing ones.
By meeting so many important lore figures, you really gain a new perspective on the events of Yharnam. The complexity and dichotomy each character carries matches how much I thought while I was playing the main game months ago. I don't think I'll ever forget my encounters with Laurence, Lady Maria and especially Ludwig. Not getting excited thinking about this game is harder than the game itself, dammit... The thing is, Bloodborne inspired a new passion in me and the DLC intensified it. Since I finished the game in early 2023, I've been playing more horror games and even digging up some horror books. And that's not for nothing, it's not me wanting to "elitize" the game, but Bloodborne really has a higher and even ethereal quality about itself; it is so profound and complex I just love it. Wondering about Yharnam and its history is an ineffable delight that the game 112% invites me to do. The result being that I'm thirstier than any healthy person should be for more Bloodborne or the like, and more is what I got. I'm sure the DLC will age on me just as well as the base game.
The Old Hunters saga was one whose linearity was perfect. I like the original game's sense of freedom, but Old Hunters being linear allowed for stellar thematic cohesion. As purposely chaotic as they are, the places are like a subtle mini-story that I doubt is coincidental.
As of today, I will be unable to think of Bloodborne without thinking of Old Hunters. I still prefer the base game, but the DLC cast is honestly just as memorable. And now Bloodborne is officially the perfect video game and it's become my favorite I guess. This game brings out the best in me and now it has finally taken its rightful place as my top 1.
I absolutely fucking loved this shit; like, there's no need to babble further on how much I like Bloodborne, but I have to applaud how the DLC managed to add to the base game without being "more of the same", it had a unique taste especially in terms of the cast. My biggest issue with the original game pretty much was The Old Hunders' biggest strength. The DLC not only brings excellent characters but adds extra layers to the existing ones.
By meeting so many important lore figures, you really gain a new perspective on the events of Yharnam. The complexity and dichotomy each character carries matches how much I thought while I was playing the main game months ago. I don't think I'll ever forget my encounters with Laurence, Lady Maria and especially Ludwig. Not getting excited thinking about this game is harder than the game itself, dammit... The thing is, Bloodborne inspired a new passion in me and the DLC intensified it. Since I finished the game in early 2023, I've been playing more horror games and even digging up some horror books. And that's not for nothing, it's not me wanting to "elitize" the game, but Bloodborne really has a higher and even ethereal quality about itself; it is so profound and complex I just love it. Wondering about Yharnam and its history is an ineffable delight that the game 112% invites me to do. The result being that I'm thirstier than any healthy person should be for more Bloodborne or the like, and more is what I got. I'm sure the DLC will age on me just as well as the base game.
The Old Hunters saga was one whose linearity was perfect. I like the original game's sense of freedom, but Old Hunters being linear allowed for stellar thematic cohesion. As purposely chaotic as they are, the places are like a subtle mini-story that I doubt is coincidental.
As of today, I will be unable to think of Bloodborne without thinking of Old Hunters. I still prefer the base game, but the DLC cast is honestly just as memorable. And now Bloodborne is officially the perfect video game and it's become my favorite I guess. This game brings out the best in me and now it has finally taken its rightful place as my top 1.
2015
The most engaging and atmospheric videogame I've ever had the delight (and agony) of playing. Through its brilliant design philosophy, I felt both prey and predator. Bloodborne has an immensely solid and believable world, inciting not only both pity for its residents and fright for what they came to be, but also my curiosity, Yharnam is fascinating. The game may not be filled with faces, but through its perfect visual language and the sheer power of its atmosphere, excedes in communicating just how somber and macabre one single night can be.
I believe what makes Bloodborne so effective is one single thing: its atmosphere. The difficulty and design philosophy make the perfect pact with the game's aesthetics and tone. Rare the occasions where I see a game utilizing all of its tools this well only to fascinate and engage the player, it's a collective effort of multiple art forms I'm but grateful for having experienced it.
It is truly excepcional how this game inflicted fear upon me; each step, each move I made through the alleys of Yharnam could be my last. That added to my insaciable thirst of exploring the place, of playing the game, was like a conflict that put me on a halt during the early game, I won't lie and say that I wasn't starting to get burnt out by how much I died in the start, but from conflict, comes progress. All I had to do was to give a break, to set myself in the right mindset. To have the nightmare come to me... Out of casual boredom, I only intended to grind for maybe 15 minutes, but I simply couldn't put the controller down once I got into it. I was irreversibly engaged by the game and, this time, I couldn't get out so easily. This is my personal experience with how good the game's atmosphere is. Over time, I got better at the game, but not only through learning the game's mechanics and gameplay, the entirety of Yharnam entered my head. Before I knew it, I was absolutely sulked into the mindset one would have in real life were a situation like this to actually go down. I just felt so real - Every time I was about to enter a new room, I [carefully] moved my camera and scoured the area as much as I could. This is the closest any game made me feel as if I was actually in it. And it was terrifying. But when something that to be done, I lost the count of how many times I just said to myself "the hunt is on" and erased from my mind everything that wasn't lacerating beasts along the way.
This magnificent dichotomy was only this effective because the game had the perfect inspiration to do so. I absolutely love the "Lovecraftian thematic" in this game, to know where this game is coming from with its world building so strong it makes me feel a mixture of emotions that just culminate into absolute ecstasy I am only capable of idolizing and deify the game and everything it represents. Yharnam is horrifying, it's dirty, bizarre, somber and miserable, just as it is tragic and poetic; I adore how this impression simply refused to leave my head, how it also never lost its relevance. This game is phenomenal. A story worthy of a classic horror.
But even Bloodborne got its flaws. The lore is great, but the cast is not on the same level as the rest. The characters are enjoyable at best and forgettable at worst. Nobody is poorly-written, but the cast certainly could've been better explored. I know that part of what makes Bloodborne so good is precisely how lonely the exploration is, but given how I mentioned the game uses every tool to increase the experience, it's a pity that a potential story to farther increase the game's intentions was discarted.
Speaking of intensifying what is already great, the boss fights are overall pretty weak to me. I don't meant to say they lack difficulty or tension, but that there are very few bosses that actually add to the game's lore. With exceptions, they are simply not as memorable as the rest. Most of them were just bigger ugly faces I had to slay and that feels underwhelming to notice. Not understanding where a monster comes from can be scary, but at the same time, when 80% of the bosses are just a bunch of nameless ugly faces I just stop caring and let out a sigh of disappointment whenever I have to face one of them.
The game is not without its problems, but the more I think of them, the less I care because of how good the rest is. I platinum'd the game, but I'm terribly far from done with the game on a psychological sense. It simply stayed with me even months after completion. I fucking love this game so much holy fucking shit.
I believe what makes Bloodborne so effective is one single thing: its atmosphere. The difficulty and design philosophy make the perfect pact with the game's aesthetics and tone. Rare the occasions where I see a game utilizing all of its tools this well only to fascinate and engage the player, it's a collective effort of multiple art forms I'm but grateful for having experienced it.
It is truly excepcional how this game inflicted fear upon me; each step, each move I made through the alleys of Yharnam could be my last. That added to my insaciable thirst of exploring the place, of playing the game, was like a conflict that put me on a halt during the early game, I won't lie and say that I wasn't starting to get burnt out by how much I died in the start, but from conflict, comes progress. All I had to do was to give a break, to set myself in the right mindset. To have the nightmare come to me... Out of casual boredom, I only intended to grind for maybe 15 minutes, but I simply couldn't put the controller down once I got into it. I was irreversibly engaged by the game and, this time, I couldn't get out so easily. This is my personal experience with how good the game's atmosphere is. Over time, I got better at the game, but not only through learning the game's mechanics and gameplay, the entirety of Yharnam entered my head. Before I knew it, I was absolutely sulked into the mindset one would have in real life were a situation like this to actually go down. I just felt so real - Every time I was about to enter a new room, I [carefully] moved my camera and scoured the area as much as I could. This is the closest any game made me feel as if I was actually in it. And it was terrifying. But when something that to be done, I lost the count of how many times I just said to myself "the hunt is on" and erased from my mind everything that wasn't lacerating beasts along the way.
This magnificent dichotomy was only this effective because the game had the perfect inspiration to do so. I absolutely love the "Lovecraftian thematic" in this game, to know where this game is coming from with its world building so strong it makes me feel a mixture of emotions that just culminate into absolute ecstasy I am only capable of idolizing and deify the game and everything it represents. Yharnam is horrifying, it's dirty, bizarre, somber and miserable, just as it is tragic and poetic; I adore how this impression simply refused to leave my head, how it also never lost its relevance. This game is phenomenal. A story worthy of a classic horror.
But even Bloodborne got its flaws. The lore is great, but the cast is not on the same level as the rest. The characters are enjoyable at best and forgettable at worst. Nobody is poorly-written, but the cast certainly could've been better explored. I know that part of what makes Bloodborne so good is precisely how lonely the exploration is, but given how I mentioned the game uses every tool to increase the experience, it's a pity that a potential story to farther increase the game's intentions was discarted.
Speaking of intensifying what is already great, the boss fights are overall pretty weak to me. I don't meant to say they lack difficulty or tension, but that there are very few bosses that actually add to the game's lore. With exceptions, they are simply not as memorable as the rest. Most of them were just bigger ugly faces I had to slay and that feels underwhelming to notice. Not understanding where a monster comes from can be scary, but at the same time, when 80% of the bosses are just a bunch of nameless ugly faces I just stop caring and let out a sigh of disappointment whenever I have to face one of them.
The game is not without its problems, but the more I think of them, the less I care because of how good the rest is. I platinum'd the game, but I'm terribly far from done with the game on a psychological sense. It simply stayed with me even months after completion. I fucking love this game so much holy fucking shit.
1999
Final Fantasy VIII is a game that, despite its flaws, managed to be a great experience for me. Its ambition and eccentric PlayStation 1 style alone would be enough to make it stand out to me, but its story and specially its themes and soundtrack were extraordinary. I can forgive each and every moment of frustration or questionable plot point moments just for how cherishable the game is at its best.
One of the things about Final Fantasy VIII that fascinate me the most is how clear are its intentions as the game goes on; from its humane and touching themes to its inventive and fresh thematic, Final Fantasy VIII simply captivates me. I didn't know a game this flawed could also be so interesting to think about. The developers' ambitions could've been bigger than the time they had to properly execute their ideas, but I almost don't mind it. I mean, it's easy to see what could be improved and I'd love to see the timeline where they had enough time to make the game they wanted, but the final results were still incredible and show not just how capable is the new Squaresoft team but also how much potential as a whole videogames always had as an art form.
If I were to mention what I like the most in the game, it'd probably be its dramatically effective theme. A theme that was exponentially improved by its spectacular musical scores, which brim with grandeur and emotion, stablishing the entry as one of my all-time favorites music-wise. I rarely am left so emotionally touched or violently exhilarated by music, but holy shit tracks like "Liberi Fatali" or "Eyes on Me" are ridiculous, they hit me right on the damn spots, it's so good. I could go on all day about how many powerful tracks this game has, but I rather just conclude it by saying that Nobuo Uematsu is a genius who knows how to compose the perfect music for each moment in the game.
The cast itself wasn't of major impact to me, but the four exceptions (Irvine, Quistis, Rinoa and specially Squall) more than made up for that, Squall in particular is probably one of favorite characters of all time. It's applaudable how well-written he is. The game is not big time on character development and I honestly find the political trama to be quite dull, but the game's realistic approach not only to romance but also to Squall himself was excellent. It's rare for me to find a character as flawed, deep and complex as Squall Leonhart (specially in videogames). It's splendid how I can understand this well a character I don't particularly identify with, highlighting just how much care went into his creation. With no hint of doubt, Squall is my favorite character in the Final Fantasy series.
Another thing I particularly adored were the Laguna sections, which not only built a strong contrast with Squall's, but also significantly contributed to the world building. The Laguna parts were honestly so interesting I wouldn't mind at all if he had an entire sequel/prequel dedicated to him, who was the protagonist for some of the most memorable scenes in the whole game.
Overall, Final Fantasy VIII was solid; a project with great willpower and respectable ambition, only being limited by time scrambles during its development. That's very clear to notice when my one big complaint about this game is how I just wanted to see more of it. And I don't see the sentiment going away anytime soon.
One of the things about Final Fantasy VIII that fascinate me the most is how clear are its intentions as the game goes on; from its humane and touching themes to its inventive and fresh thematic, Final Fantasy VIII simply captivates me. I didn't know a game this flawed could also be so interesting to think about. The developers' ambitions could've been bigger than the time they had to properly execute their ideas, but I almost don't mind it. I mean, it's easy to see what could be improved and I'd love to see the timeline where they had enough time to make the game they wanted, but the final results were still incredible and show not just how capable is the new Squaresoft team but also how much potential as a whole videogames always had as an art form.
If I were to mention what I like the most in the game, it'd probably be its dramatically effective theme. A theme that was exponentially improved by its spectacular musical scores, which brim with grandeur and emotion, stablishing the entry as one of my all-time favorites music-wise. I rarely am left so emotionally touched or violently exhilarated by music, but holy shit tracks like "Liberi Fatali" or "Eyes on Me" are ridiculous, they hit me right on the damn spots, it's so good. I could go on all day about how many powerful tracks this game has, but I rather just conclude it by saying that Nobuo Uematsu is a genius who knows how to compose the perfect music for each moment in the game.
The cast itself wasn't of major impact to me, but the four exceptions (Irvine, Quistis, Rinoa and specially Squall) more than made up for that, Squall in particular is probably one of favorite characters of all time. It's applaudable how well-written he is. The game is not big time on character development and I honestly find the political trama to be quite dull, but the game's realistic approach not only to romance but also to Squall himself was excellent. It's rare for me to find a character as flawed, deep and complex as Squall Leonhart (specially in videogames). It's splendid how I can understand this well a character I don't particularly identify with, highlighting just how much care went into his creation. With no hint of doubt, Squall is my favorite character in the Final Fantasy series.
Another thing I particularly adored were the Laguna sections, which not only built a strong contrast with Squall's, but also significantly contributed to the world building. The Laguna parts were honestly so interesting I wouldn't mind at all if he had an entire sequel/prequel dedicated to him, who was the protagonist for some of the most memorable scenes in the whole game.
Overall, Final Fantasy VIII was solid; a project with great willpower and respectable ambition, only being limited by time scrambles during its development. That's very clear to notice when my one big complaint about this game is how I just wanted to see more of it. And I don't see the sentiment going away anytime soon.
I already had high expectations for this one, but even still I was positively surprised. What Remains of Edith Finch is one of those things that I simply can't forget about. How I came to love this game ffs.
The ambientation is ineffably effective, the only thing I can say about it is that this game is one of the most atmospheric and dense games I've ever played. I spent a good amount of my run just exploring and admiring the house and the scenarios, even if I didn't really have any motivation to do so, it's just that, not unlike Edith, I wholeheartedly wanted to dive as deep as I could into this exotic family history;
The interactive elements and the art direction were also spot-on, contributing immensely for the experience; it's pleasing to see how well the game adapts the concept of "playing a book" because I truly felt that way. The voices were great and both the text and its "finesses" were carefully crafted in order to make the player feel. Simply a work of art.
This is essentially the perfect game, utilizing from its mechanics to not only put us on a character's skin but also to immensely improve the immersion. Whether that's through diversified command movements or fantastic and creative progression, the gameplay is great.
It's honestly quite affable how much thought and consideration was poured unto each story, unto each character and unto each fragment of this fascinating family house, a family of which is portrayed in such a way it's terrifyingly realistic, I genuinely had to remember myself these characteres were not real people due to how real they felt.
What Remains of Edith Finch is about nostalgia, it's about loss, about family and, above all else, about the balance between death and life. It's a game that made me feel and think about plenty of things. I adore games like that.
The ambientation is ineffably effective, the only thing I can say about it is that this game is one of the most atmospheric and dense games I've ever played. I spent a good amount of my run just exploring and admiring the house and the scenarios, even if I didn't really have any motivation to do so, it's just that, not unlike Edith, I wholeheartedly wanted to dive as deep as I could into this exotic family history;
The interactive elements and the art direction were also spot-on, contributing immensely for the experience; it's pleasing to see how well the game adapts the concept of "playing a book" because I truly felt that way. The voices were great and both the text and its "finesses" were carefully crafted in order to make the player feel. Simply a work of art.
This is essentially the perfect game, utilizing from its mechanics to not only put us on a character's skin but also to immensely improve the immersion. Whether that's through diversified command movements or fantastic and creative progression, the gameplay is great.
It's honestly quite affable how much thought and consideration was poured unto each story, unto each character and unto each fragment of this fascinating family house, a family of which is portrayed in such a way it's terrifyingly realistic, I genuinely had to remember myself these characteres were not real people due to how real they felt.
What Remains of Edith Finch is about nostalgia, it's about loss, about family and, above all else, about the balance between death and life. It's a game that made me feel and think about plenty of things. I adore games like that.
2020
One of the nicest and most visually impressive games I've ever played; A game that, despite its flaws, has an unique charm and soul.
The characters and story are solid, telling some of my favorite fables of all fiction. The way the characters react to tragedy and to love is simply too real. The fashion the tales are developed is nothing short of compelling and engaging; I get genuinely interested and anxious for what's to come next after a certain event. And even though this is truer for "character tales", even the casual side-quests I happen to activate by pure accident are phenomenal. The feeling I get from idly roaming across the island fetching some collectables and, out of nowhere, cross by a down-to-earth and heartfelt story is indescribable. And honestly, for as good as the main story is, I think the game's true identity lies within its side content. The tales bring just that much more weight and meaning to the island of Tsushima.
The game has, however, one major issue: the massive amount of collectibles dissuate me from pretty much everything I've just described. I had to mentally separate the already started tales from actually exploring in two sections of the game, otherwise one would drag the other down. Matter of fact, I left the exploration content and completion aspects for last, and of course I gave up halfway across. I really enjoyed activities such as pillars of honor, hot springs and specially writing haiku, but the others are just too overwhelming. Inari shrines are a concept I do not disapprove; it's a cool idea, but they throw it out of the window when there are fourty fucking nine of them. It just gets... boring after some time... And that's a theme with the others as well. Bamboo striking has a cool mechanic and I can't give too much crap to the shinto shrines, but all of them together just pile up to a dull, repetitive and tiring chore (and those are the ones the game gives me the courtesy of showing on the map, ugh...). Were it up to me, the game could have half of those removed and focus on bringing more artefacts/records instead... Y'know, things that are actually different from one another and encourage exploration.
But now, no matter what I'm doing, whether it being chasing the billionth fox or climbing a mountain, I will be doing that amidst an absolutely stunning scenario. The setting in this game is so well done it's worthy playing for this reason alone. Some of my most intimate moments with Ghost of Tsushima were about me just... looking at the horizon, with Jin's cape against the wind... and me slowly... moving my analog to get the most of the view... Gosh, I don't even wanna count how much time I spent doing just that smh. It's just... that this is one of the few games that make me feel - truly feel - as if I am but a nomad embarking on an important quest, wandering a cruel yet beautiful world.
And although it's not the best thing ever written, I liked the story a lot too. I wouldn't complain if the cast members were to have more dialog and interactions outside their own campaign, but they already cause enough an impact from the participation they do have within the main story. And I adore the conceit of "disenchanting principle"; a practical example of how at times man-made concepts and ideals are just that - not worth more than actual human lives. A theme that though clearly leans towards fitting on the 13th century's setting, was also brilliantly done in a way it is also relevant for today's dilemmas.
The slow realization that this game would not be about a stoic and typical samurai that's untouchable, but about a flawed, confused man giving his all in order to protect his friends and people would already be excellent, but Ghost of Tsushima tells about it through its gameplay, a touch I find simply genial.
Ghost of Tsushima is not a perfect game, didn't even join my all time favorites nor anything, but it is a game I admire and respect deeply. I didn't 100%'d it because I believe it would lose part of the charm of blindly exploring the island as I progress through the story. I've opened 100% of the map already. I don't think it would be the same... but if I ever replay it, ya better BET I will!
The characters and story are solid, telling some of my favorite fables of all fiction. The way the characters react to tragedy and to love is simply too real. The fashion the tales are developed is nothing short of compelling and engaging; I get genuinely interested and anxious for what's to come next after a certain event. And even though this is truer for "character tales", even the casual side-quests I happen to activate by pure accident are phenomenal. The feeling I get from idly roaming across the island fetching some collectables and, out of nowhere, cross by a down-to-earth and heartfelt story is indescribable. And honestly, for as good as the main story is, I think the game's true identity lies within its side content. The tales bring just that much more weight and meaning to the island of Tsushima.
The game has, however, one major issue: the massive amount of collectibles dissuate me from pretty much everything I've just described. I had to mentally separate the already started tales from actually exploring in two sections of the game, otherwise one would drag the other down. Matter of fact, I left the exploration content and completion aspects for last, and of course I gave up halfway across. I really enjoyed activities such as pillars of honor, hot springs and specially writing haiku, but the others are just too overwhelming. Inari shrines are a concept I do not disapprove; it's a cool idea, but they throw it out of the window when there are fourty fucking nine of them. It just gets... boring after some time... And that's a theme with the others as well. Bamboo striking has a cool mechanic and I can't give too much crap to the shinto shrines, but all of them together just pile up to a dull, repetitive and tiring chore (and those are the ones the game gives me the courtesy of showing on the map, ugh...). Were it up to me, the game could have half of those removed and focus on bringing more artefacts/records instead... Y'know, things that are actually different from one another and encourage exploration.
But now, no matter what I'm doing, whether it being chasing the billionth fox or climbing a mountain, I will be doing that amidst an absolutely stunning scenario. The setting in this game is so well done it's worthy playing for this reason alone. Some of my most intimate moments with Ghost of Tsushima were about me just... looking at the horizon, with Jin's cape against the wind... and me slowly... moving my analog to get the most of the view... Gosh, I don't even wanna count how much time I spent doing just that smh. It's just... that this is one of the few games that make me feel - truly feel - as if I am but a nomad embarking on an important quest, wandering a cruel yet beautiful world.
And although it's not the best thing ever written, I liked the story a lot too. I wouldn't complain if the cast members were to have more dialog and interactions outside their own campaign, but they already cause enough an impact from the participation they do have within the main story. And I adore the conceit of "disenchanting principle"; a practical example of how at times man-made concepts and ideals are just that - not worth more than actual human lives. A theme that though clearly leans towards fitting on the 13th century's setting, was also brilliantly done in a way it is also relevant for today's dilemmas.
The slow realization that this game would not be about a stoic and typical samurai that's untouchable, but about a flawed, confused man giving his all in order to protect his friends and people would already be excellent, but Ghost of Tsushima tells about it through its gameplay, a touch I find simply genial.
Ghost of Tsushima is not a perfect game, didn't even join my all time favorites nor anything, but it is a game I admire and respect deeply. I didn't 100%'d it because I believe it would lose part of the charm of blindly exploring the island as I progress through the story. I've opened 100% of the map already. I don't think it would be the same... but if I ever replay it, ya better BET I will!
1994
I no longer have patience for this kind of game.
I touched it for around 40 minutes and that was more than enough for me to form a solid opinion on the sequel of one of my favorite NES games, it's not as good. While I understand and sort of respect the attempt on not sticking with the same formula, this game failed to present to me the same amount of enjoyment I had with the original Tetris; not only being way too convoluted, adding much more layers of complexity than I'm comfortable dealing with (moreso on the highest speed), but also is just too different of the other games.
Like, I probably would get the hang of it if I had 1 extra hour or so, but I'm not interested. This games tries to deviate from a perfect game.
The way I see it, games like Tetris or Pac-Man don't need any modification on their formula, I'd be more than satisfied with simpler additions such as new music, new background and well, while this game provides these things, it does not provide a proper Tetris experience.
I touched it for around 40 minutes and that was more than enough for me to form a solid opinion on the sequel of one of my favorite NES games, it's not as good. While I understand and sort of respect the attempt on not sticking with the same formula, this game failed to present to me the same amount of enjoyment I had with the original Tetris; not only being way too convoluted, adding much more layers of complexity than I'm comfortable dealing with (moreso on the highest speed), but also is just too different of the other games.
Like, I probably would get the hang of it if I had 1 extra hour or so, but I'm not interested. This games tries to deviate from a perfect game.
The way I see it, games like Tetris or Pac-Man don't need any modification on their formula, I'd be more than satisfied with simpler additions such as new music, new background and well, while this game provides these things, it does not provide a proper Tetris experience.
2020
Words are unable to express how much I love this game. Fortunately I don't really relate to any of the emotions expressed in the game, yet I felt all of them while playing.
I am grateful I am who I am and the experience I had with this game just reinforced that. Life is a thing to be cherished, and so is this game.
I am grateful I am who I am and the experience I had with this game just reinforced that. Life is a thing to be cherished, and so is this game.
An affirmation of a classic.
I like to think of Super Mario Land as one of the most interesting "take one step back to take two steps forward" cases in videogaming history, and just as much as the Gameboy is an evolution when compared to the primitive Game & Watch, Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins builds a skyscraper with the small blocks left by its predecessor, being an amalgam of the previous games' best qualities while adding some ideas of its own in the mix, confirming yet again the brilliance of its series. It takes an undeniably important step closer to the identity that many associate with modern Super Mario. This game is more than simple progress, it's startling.
The 1989 Super Mario Land accomplished many things, but the final impression was that the game was nothing more than an unpolished gem, and an experiment with the new hardware. Alas, due to its enormous success added to a better understanding of the Gameboy, a sequence was inevitable. The Super Mario Land team decided to follow the steps of Shigeru Miyamoto's (Mario's original creator and designer) magnum opus that is Super Mario World. Said inspiration is shown throughout the entirety of the final result, from the clearly similar movement and power-ups to its open world, with secret levels and inspired backdrops, not to mention its improved save system, using now the Gameboy's battery, making saving the progress more flexible and reliable than ever before. With the exception of Yoshi (that in a near future would gain its own franchise) everything is here. It's like Super Mario Land's rebellion were to finally find a solid base to stand upon, reaching then the maximum of its potential.
Funny thing how the "Land" on its name implies that 6 Golden Coins literally takes place in Mario's land. For the first time, Mario isn't in an adventure's worth of a hard time in order to rescue a princess, but instead to take back something of his own. Since Mario was busy flying away with Princess Daisy in the exquisite final sequence of the previous game, one of the most iconic villains in the franchise, Wario, made his debut through seizing Mario's fantastic property during his absence, awaiting by the return of his archrival in his own castle. Upon arriving home, Mario is greeted by a bunch of enemies and if he wants to retrieve his land and castle, he needs to open its gate, locked behind 6 locks. Each lock is opened by a different coin under one of the six different bosses' protection, each at the top of its own zone and then finally defeat Wario.
I believe this game is an even better representation of what the Gameboy is capable of than its predecessor, taking into account how "practical" playing it really is. One thing that surprises me about Super Mario Land 2 is how the game is essentially a fusion between Super Mario Land and Super Mario World, with the extremely creative simplicity of Land and the science in form of game design that's attached to World. It has stages and mechanics more complex than the first Mario Land while remaining, at its core, a very simple game.
The technical ease of just booting the game, play a stage or two with a mean time to beat of 4-6 minutes each and being able to turn it off without losing absolutely nothing is something new to the series, being not only something I very much appreciate in any kind of game but also more faithful to the Gameboy's proposal of being a "mini-console" where you can play it wherever and whenever you want. Said freedom is a luxury that makes the adventure safer and easier. Having so much power and control over how I approach the game also increases my overall enjoyment with it. Those "quality of life" things are not good just because they make it for a more comfortable gameplay but also really sell the idea that Mario is, in fact, home.
Still, what really marks this game as my favorite Super Mario game is the level design; I swear, the is not a single zone, a single level where nothing new is on the table. Every single stage has either new enemies, new scenarios or just a completely different "vibe" to it (have you seen the Tree Zone? If not, I implore you to do so, it oozes personality). It's not like every new enemy has terribly convoluted mechanics or that each platform to stand upon offers a different challenge or ultimately changes much, but that almost doesn't matter. What makes me appreciate the level design so much is not the complexity or even the amount of ideas about what Mario's gonna stomp, but instead the geographic inventiveness of each zone.
Using my favorite, the Mario Zone, as an example, the area is about a giant mechanical statue of Mario himself (I take it he built the robot in order to worship himself?). Anyhow, the first level are the legs, filled with mechanical treats and enemies (even my favorite, the hopping screw) and cogs, representing how Mario runs fast and jumps so high, leaping straight to the second level to the second level placed in the belly, where the theme is circles (because with what else would you associate Mario's belly?) and most enemies are animal-based, probably joining the stage by the third level that is the tongue; I'm not gonna lie to myself and claim the third level to be the most faithful representation of a mouth, but I assume it's probably because a level was already filled with that theme and the designers didn't want to repeat the same idea, so what we get here is mostly mechanical stuff such as metal spikes and bombs, although the floor does look kind of rugged and I could argue that the spikes resemble teethes and the lots of bombs the "cracks" as we chew on something, but I think the level wasn't meant to be a faithful mechanical body interpretation, but more on the "toy-like" design. Plus, I'd much rather to save my efforts for the zone's final level - the head - that is what turned the zone into my favorite. It has the biggest "dreamlike quality" of the bunch; the reason is as silly as it gets, but since the platforms are literally composed by Lego pieces and are never used again just make it so special. A ton of levels have exclusive things like that, but fucking Lego pieces? That's just on a whole another level! Again, it's nothing extraordinary, but the fact that every single level is different and has some reasoning behind it add a lot to the experience. And the best part of all this diligence and creativity is that, unsurprisingly, the whole game is filled with just as much thought and attention to detail. Such superb level design works perfectly as a build up not only to each one of the 6 bosses (that are equally interesting), making me wonder what's gonna be at the end of the next zone, but also to Wario himself, awaiting for the player in the most difficult level on the game for a (not so) epic final boss fight.
Alright, one thing I haven't mentioned so far is that the player can choose whichever zone order they so desire, come and go from they as they please. Because of that, every zone and boss could be their first. With that in mind, Super Mario Land 2's difficulty was equally balanced between the levels, there is no "harder" or "easier" zone, every single stage has the same level of difficulty. With one exception... The final level is aggressively harder than the others, to the point where at least 1/3 of my first playthrough was spent ceaselessly dying there. The level itself is not bad, I even admire how it has some of the most memorable screens of the entire game, not to mention how the Wario fights are really cool. But all that hammers my mind is how if I make any mistake, it's over. I mean, I understand that a "difficulty spike" is a valid tool to increase the tension in a final level or boss, but what bothers me in the level is not necessarily the difficulty (that's not even that high. I died a lot but I'm admittedly unskilled), but rather the fact that it's way longer than a normal level, dare I say it's almost as long as an entire zone. And it has no checkpoints, meaning that if you die, it brings you back to the beginning of the level... Most - if not all - of the levels have at least one checkpoint, and the single hardest stage lacks it? And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Another thing that I haven't mentioned is that the punishment for a game over, while fortunately not being utterly resetting the entire game, still wants to make sure you waste some time, just for the sake of it. After a game over, Mario loses all of his coins, and I'm not talking about this game's currency, but instead about the ones you get from each boss fight... Meaning you have to recollect them all. In a realistic scenario, you'd take at least 20 minutes to take everything back and God knows how much time to grind for enough lives to confidently try again.
The way I see it, the stakes have been raised far beyond what they needed to. Like, at least give me a checkpoint after the platforming section so that I can focus on the 6 damn bosses... The lack of that plus a game over's punishment make it for nothing short of an outdated, cheap way to increase difficulty. And since it goes against every positive thing I said about the game, it ends up weighting much more than the "positive" tension of the final level. The unique level design loses its impact when I'm forced to roam across the island again in order to collect some exchanged because of some rough punishment (for all the complaint, though, it fortunately didn't happen to me, I never got a game over. But only due to extreme luck at the casino, where I earned more lives than I would ever need).
The only somewhat consistent way of avoiding that (asides from, huh, not dying) is through a casino where, with enough grinding, you get coins to flip, hoping to get as much 1ups as possible. This is not just assumedly luck-based but also doesn't ultimately stop the sad scenario of a game over to happen.
However, for as frustrating and cheap as the final level is and I, admittedly, can't bring myself to enjoy the game as I did before opening the gates single-handedly due to its bitter difficulty, the rest of the game was still sweet enough to save the overall experience. No matter what, Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins is an admirable improvement of the original, possessing a variety and creativity of high level, more so for the time. And if anything, 6 Golden Coins is one of the biggest proofs of the undeniable inventiveness of its creators. No matter the year or where it is played, if it's in a console of handheld, Super Mario is always gonna be innovative, ceaselessly revolutionizing the gaming industry and defining billions of lives across the globe.
And honestly? For being one of the oldest but not the first titles, 6 Golden Coins does an excellent job of keeping Super Mario as a pioneer; maybe it wasn't the game to break the highest amount of records or revolutionize the industry, but it is the most memorable to me. From the moment I have finished Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins, this came to be the game that first comes to mind when the topic is "Classic Mario".
I like to think of Super Mario Land as one of the most interesting "take one step back to take two steps forward" cases in videogaming history, and just as much as the Gameboy is an evolution when compared to the primitive Game & Watch, Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins builds a skyscraper with the small blocks left by its predecessor, being an amalgam of the previous games' best qualities while adding some ideas of its own in the mix, confirming yet again the brilliance of its series. It takes an undeniably important step closer to the identity that many associate with modern Super Mario. This game is more than simple progress, it's startling.
The 1989 Super Mario Land accomplished many things, but the final impression was that the game was nothing more than an unpolished gem, and an experiment with the new hardware. Alas, due to its enormous success added to a better understanding of the Gameboy, a sequence was inevitable. The Super Mario Land team decided to follow the steps of Shigeru Miyamoto's (Mario's original creator and designer) magnum opus that is Super Mario World. Said inspiration is shown throughout the entirety of the final result, from the clearly similar movement and power-ups to its open world, with secret levels and inspired backdrops, not to mention its improved save system, using now the Gameboy's battery, making saving the progress more flexible and reliable than ever before. With the exception of Yoshi (that in a near future would gain its own franchise) everything is here. It's like Super Mario Land's rebellion were to finally find a solid base to stand upon, reaching then the maximum of its potential.
Funny thing how the "Land" on its name implies that 6 Golden Coins literally takes place in Mario's land. For the first time, Mario isn't in an adventure's worth of a hard time in order to rescue a princess, but instead to take back something of his own. Since Mario was busy flying away with Princess Daisy in the exquisite final sequence of the previous game, one of the most iconic villains in the franchise, Wario, made his debut through seizing Mario's fantastic property during his absence, awaiting by the return of his archrival in his own castle. Upon arriving home, Mario is greeted by a bunch of enemies and if he wants to retrieve his land and castle, he needs to open its gate, locked behind 6 locks. Each lock is opened by a different coin under one of the six different bosses' protection, each at the top of its own zone and then finally defeat Wario.
I believe this game is an even better representation of what the Gameboy is capable of than its predecessor, taking into account how "practical" playing it really is. One thing that surprises me about Super Mario Land 2 is how the game is essentially a fusion between Super Mario Land and Super Mario World, with the extremely creative simplicity of Land and the science in form of game design that's attached to World. It has stages and mechanics more complex than the first Mario Land while remaining, at its core, a very simple game.
The technical ease of just booting the game, play a stage or two with a mean time to beat of 4-6 minutes each and being able to turn it off without losing absolutely nothing is something new to the series, being not only something I very much appreciate in any kind of game but also more faithful to the Gameboy's proposal of being a "mini-console" where you can play it wherever and whenever you want. Said freedom is a luxury that makes the adventure safer and easier. Having so much power and control over how I approach the game also increases my overall enjoyment with it. Those "quality of life" things are not good just because they make it for a more comfortable gameplay but also really sell the idea that Mario is, in fact, home.
Still, what really marks this game as my favorite Super Mario game is the level design; I swear, the is not a single zone, a single level where nothing new is on the table. Every single stage has either new enemies, new scenarios or just a completely different "vibe" to it (have you seen the Tree Zone? If not, I implore you to do so, it oozes personality). It's not like every new enemy has terribly convoluted mechanics or that each platform to stand upon offers a different challenge or ultimately changes much, but that almost doesn't matter. What makes me appreciate the level design so much is not the complexity or even the amount of ideas about what Mario's gonna stomp, but instead the geographic inventiveness of each zone.
Using my favorite, the Mario Zone, as an example, the area is about a giant mechanical statue of Mario himself (I take it he built the robot in order to worship himself?). Anyhow, the first level are the legs, filled with mechanical treats and enemies (even my favorite, the hopping screw) and cogs, representing how Mario runs fast and jumps so high, leaping straight to the second level to the second level placed in the belly, where the theme is circles (because with what else would you associate Mario's belly?) and most enemies are animal-based, probably joining the stage by the third level that is the tongue; I'm not gonna lie to myself and claim the third level to be the most faithful representation of a mouth, but I assume it's probably because a level was already filled with that theme and the designers didn't want to repeat the same idea, so what we get here is mostly mechanical stuff such as metal spikes and bombs, although the floor does look kind of rugged and I could argue that the spikes resemble teethes and the lots of bombs the "cracks" as we chew on something, but I think the level wasn't meant to be a faithful mechanical body interpretation, but more on the "toy-like" design. Plus, I'd much rather to save my efforts for the zone's final level - the head - that is what turned the zone into my favorite. It has the biggest "dreamlike quality" of the bunch; the reason is as silly as it gets, but since the platforms are literally composed by Lego pieces and are never used again just make it so special. A ton of levels have exclusive things like that, but fucking Lego pieces? That's just on a whole another level! Again, it's nothing extraordinary, but the fact that every single level is different and has some reasoning behind it add a lot to the experience. And the best part of all this diligence and creativity is that, unsurprisingly, the whole game is filled with just as much thought and attention to detail. Such superb level design works perfectly as a build up not only to each one of the 6 bosses (that are equally interesting), making me wonder what's gonna be at the end of the next zone, but also to Wario himself, awaiting for the player in the most difficult level on the game for a (not so) epic final boss fight.
Alright, one thing I haven't mentioned so far is that the player can choose whichever zone order they so desire, come and go from they as they please. Because of that, every zone and boss could be their first. With that in mind, Super Mario Land 2's difficulty was equally balanced between the levels, there is no "harder" or "easier" zone, every single stage has the same level of difficulty. With one exception... The final level is aggressively harder than the others, to the point where at least 1/3 of my first playthrough was spent ceaselessly dying there. The level itself is not bad, I even admire how it has some of the most memorable screens of the entire game, not to mention how the Wario fights are really cool. But all that hammers my mind is how if I make any mistake, it's over. I mean, I understand that a "difficulty spike" is a valid tool to increase the tension in a final level or boss, but what bothers me in the level is not necessarily the difficulty (that's not even that high. I died a lot but I'm admittedly unskilled), but rather the fact that it's way longer than a normal level, dare I say it's almost as long as an entire zone. And it has no checkpoints, meaning that if you die, it brings you back to the beginning of the level... Most - if not all - of the levels have at least one checkpoint, and the single hardest stage lacks it? And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Another thing that I haven't mentioned is that the punishment for a game over, while fortunately not being utterly resetting the entire game, still wants to make sure you waste some time, just for the sake of it. After a game over, Mario loses all of his coins, and I'm not talking about this game's currency, but instead about the ones you get from each boss fight... Meaning you have to recollect them all. In a realistic scenario, you'd take at least 20 minutes to take everything back and God knows how much time to grind for enough lives to confidently try again.
The way I see it, the stakes have been raised far beyond what they needed to. Like, at least give me a checkpoint after the platforming section so that I can focus on the 6 damn bosses... The lack of that plus a game over's punishment make it for nothing short of an outdated, cheap way to increase difficulty. And since it goes against every positive thing I said about the game, it ends up weighting much more than the "positive" tension of the final level. The unique level design loses its impact when I'm forced to roam across the island again in order to collect some exchanged because of some rough punishment (for all the complaint, though, it fortunately didn't happen to me, I never got a game over. But only due to extreme luck at the casino, where I earned more lives than I would ever need).
The only somewhat consistent way of avoiding that (asides from, huh, not dying) is through a casino where, with enough grinding, you get coins to flip, hoping to get as much 1ups as possible. This is not just assumedly luck-based but also doesn't ultimately stop the sad scenario of a game over to happen.
However, for as frustrating and cheap as the final level is and I, admittedly, can't bring myself to enjoy the game as I did before opening the gates single-handedly due to its bitter difficulty, the rest of the game was still sweet enough to save the overall experience. No matter what, Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins is an admirable improvement of the original, possessing a variety and creativity of high level, more so for the time. And if anything, 6 Golden Coins is one of the biggest proofs of the undeniable inventiveness of its creators. No matter the year or where it is played, if it's in a console of handheld, Super Mario is always gonna be innovative, ceaselessly revolutionizing the gaming industry and defining billions of lives across the globe.
And honestly? For being one of the oldest but not the first titles, 6 Golden Coins does an excellent job of keeping Super Mario as a pioneer; maybe it wasn't the game to break the highest amount of records or revolutionize the industry, but it is the most memorable to me. From the moment I have finished Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins, this came to be the game that first comes to mind when the topic is "Classic Mario".
1989
A surprisingly remarkable and interesting adventure to look at.
The "surprisingly" might shock some people single the game on the matter is Super Mario, the franchise well-known for marking billions of childhoods across the globe and remain today just as influent. But to me, the Mario platformers never did as much as to entertain me... with the exception of the Super Mario Land series; There's just something in these games that prevents me from feeling bored as it's usually the case with any Mario game. Even though it's Mario, this game has something jammed in its very core that makes it interesting. I'm talking about a simple yet exotic adventure, giving life to the iconic Gameboy. There are two ways to face a game as old as Super Mario Land: take its era in consideration and think about its legacy or just put it on a modern context and avail if the game is worth checking out nowadays, and I certainly pick the second choice.
That being said, it's hard to talk about Mario without mentioning its legendary legacy. Many games I love wouldn't exist if it weren't for Super Mario. Nintendo always brings something related to Mario as a launch title and this is the living proof of its influence, its developers know mighty well of the titan they hold in their hands. And as a launch title for the Gameboy, a handheld that sacrifices hardware for the convenience of being a handheld, Super Mario Land adopts different design philosophies than its predecessors; while Super Mario Bros. 3 and Super Mario World expanded exponentially upon the previous games while remaining considerably consistent to a somewhat stablished formula, Mario Land essentially took the opposite way. In black and white and with graphics comparable to those of the early NES era, this is an exotic game that in a few hours restructured the formula created in Super Mario Bros. so that it could fit in a less powerful hardware. Just like the Gameboy itself, Super Mario Land essentially sacrificed size for creativity, sometimes barely feeling like a Mario game.
A change illustrated in its different scenario, Super Mario Land is no longer settled in the Mushroom Kingdom but instead in Sarasa Land, with new stages, new enemies, new bosses and even a new princess, Daisy, whose kidnapper is not your usual Bowser, but an alien, Tatanga. From the very moment the player sets foot in Sarasa Land the game explicitly tells that this is going to be very different from Mario's previous adventures.
Said change is also present in its soundtrack, that even though when compared to Koji Kondo's legendary work in the Super Mario Bros. series it is - in my opinion - less iconic and possesses less depth, I believe they do win when it comes to originality. Every song has an unique tone to it, bringing an extra layer to each stage and enrich the journey as a whole. Even though I'd much rather to have each overworld theme as "world exclusive" and not randomly distributed as them seem to be, the sound design took the major role on making this game so memorable to me, specially the touch of genius that was the ending theme; the final moments of Super Mario Land are the most vivid memories I had when I first played it, starting with the relatively smooth and sad melody of "Princess Daisy", that played every time you seemed to have found her just to find out it was an enemy in disguise, but this time it is different, she was indeed Princess Daisy and the "sadness" from her theme is now not about the fact that you didn't save her, but that your mission, just as your adventure, is over, a feeling cut off short almost immediately by a radiant song that scales with the airplane that Mario pilots with Daisy in sight, flying towards the credits' direction. This, with no hint of doubt, is one of the most memorable moments I had with the Gameboy, showing its potential in an exquisite manner.
And for all the weirdness in the level design, while I see the argument that some overworld themes fall under the stereotype side of the regions it's inspired by, songs such as Ruins and Chai Kingdom are so distinct from on another I can't help but to think they are undeniably effective, I truly feel I'm traveling throughout a Land and making progress on my quest.
I was never fond of the NES archaic controls, and even though that unlike Super Mario Bros. 3, Mario Land's controls don't give me actual aneurysm, they are still so stiff and clunky they make it for a huge handicap for me to truly appreciate the game; the inflexible and outdated controls probably weren't such big deal back then and maybe even a improvement from NES games, however the feeling of moving around the stages is awful nonetheless, really giving away this game's age. Falling off a cliff or on the water for the lack of control adaptation is frustrating. Super Mario Land is not a difficult game, but since it's so short it simply lacks a save feature, so upon getting a game over one would have to start from the beginning, something I'm really not fond of, specially if it happens close to the end of the game. Even though it's a short game, losing an entire hour still means a lost hour. So for games like this, the only way for me to get some enjoyment out of it would be to utilize the spoils of modernity, save stating at the beginning of each level, at least this way, the punishment doesn't literally take me away from the game. Call me unfair, but this kind of feature is comparable to nowadays' Roguelikes, a genre where each death also means starting from the beginning and redo each level again and again to the point where you naturally master them, Super Mario Land doesn't do it because it's meant to be mastered like that, but because it lacks content and this is how it "makes up" for it. It doesn't come as a surprise that these games come with an official save state feature on the Wii U and the 3DS. I find its control scheme to be rather obsolete and as much as I wouldn't necessarily call the save system flawed, I'd still say it's something to be aware of before deciding whether to try it out or not.
Super Mario Land is assuredly a simple game, yet its creativity, diversity and short duration make the game more accessible and interesting for what it's worth. To those willing to forgive its limitations or just enjoy old school games and would see these things as strengths, Super Mario Land equals an hour or two of laughter and fun. Since at the end of the day, as weird as it is, Super Mario Land is still a Mario game.
As for myself, facing such temporal barriers added to the simplistic nature of the game were too much of a deal breaker to me and its qualities weren't as effective.
The "surprisingly" might shock some people single the game on the matter is Super Mario, the franchise well-known for marking billions of childhoods across the globe and remain today just as influent. But to me, the Mario platformers never did as much as to entertain me... with the exception of the Super Mario Land series; There's just something in these games that prevents me from feeling bored as it's usually the case with any Mario game. Even though it's Mario, this game has something jammed in its very core that makes it interesting. I'm talking about a simple yet exotic adventure, giving life to the iconic Gameboy. There are two ways to face a game as old as Super Mario Land: take its era in consideration and think about its legacy or just put it on a modern context and avail if the game is worth checking out nowadays, and I certainly pick the second choice.
That being said, it's hard to talk about Mario without mentioning its legendary legacy. Many games I love wouldn't exist if it weren't for Super Mario. Nintendo always brings something related to Mario as a launch title and this is the living proof of its influence, its developers know mighty well of the titan they hold in their hands. And as a launch title for the Gameboy, a handheld that sacrifices hardware for the convenience of being a handheld, Super Mario Land adopts different design philosophies than its predecessors; while Super Mario Bros. 3 and Super Mario World expanded exponentially upon the previous games while remaining considerably consistent to a somewhat stablished formula, Mario Land essentially took the opposite way. In black and white and with graphics comparable to those of the early NES era, this is an exotic game that in a few hours restructured the formula created in Super Mario Bros. so that it could fit in a less powerful hardware. Just like the Gameboy itself, Super Mario Land essentially sacrificed size for creativity, sometimes barely feeling like a Mario game.
A change illustrated in its different scenario, Super Mario Land is no longer settled in the Mushroom Kingdom but instead in Sarasa Land, with new stages, new enemies, new bosses and even a new princess, Daisy, whose kidnapper is not your usual Bowser, but an alien, Tatanga. From the very moment the player sets foot in Sarasa Land the game explicitly tells that this is going to be very different from Mario's previous adventures.
Said change is also present in its soundtrack, that even though when compared to Koji Kondo's legendary work in the Super Mario Bros. series it is - in my opinion - less iconic and possesses less depth, I believe they do win when it comes to originality. Every song has an unique tone to it, bringing an extra layer to each stage and enrich the journey as a whole. Even though I'd much rather to have each overworld theme as "world exclusive" and not randomly distributed as them seem to be, the sound design took the major role on making this game so memorable to me, specially the touch of genius that was the ending theme; the final moments of Super Mario Land are the most vivid memories I had when I first played it, starting with the relatively smooth and sad melody of "Princess Daisy", that played every time you seemed to have found her just to find out it was an enemy in disguise, but this time it is different, she was indeed Princess Daisy and the "sadness" from her theme is now not about the fact that you didn't save her, but that your mission, just as your adventure, is over, a feeling cut off short almost immediately by a radiant song that scales with the airplane that Mario pilots with Daisy in sight, flying towards the credits' direction. This, with no hint of doubt, is one of the most memorable moments I had with the Gameboy, showing its potential in an exquisite manner.
And for all the weirdness in the level design, while I see the argument that some overworld themes fall under the stereotype side of the regions it's inspired by, songs such as Ruins and Chai Kingdom are so distinct from on another I can't help but to think they are undeniably effective, I truly feel I'm traveling throughout a Land and making progress on my quest.
I was never fond of the NES archaic controls, and even though that unlike Super Mario Bros. 3, Mario Land's controls don't give me actual aneurysm, they are still so stiff and clunky they make it for a huge handicap for me to truly appreciate the game; the inflexible and outdated controls probably weren't such big deal back then and maybe even a improvement from NES games, however the feeling of moving around the stages is awful nonetheless, really giving away this game's age. Falling off a cliff or on the water for the lack of control adaptation is frustrating. Super Mario Land is not a difficult game, but since it's so short it simply lacks a save feature, so upon getting a game over one would have to start from the beginning, something I'm really not fond of, specially if it happens close to the end of the game. Even though it's a short game, losing an entire hour still means a lost hour. So for games like this, the only way for me to get some enjoyment out of it would be to utilize the spoils of modernity, save stating at the beginning of each level, at least this way, the punishment doesn't literally take me away from the game. Call me unfair, but this kind of feature is comparable to nowadays' Roguelikes, a genre where each death also means starting from the beginning and redo each level again and again to the point where you naturally master them, Super Mario Land doesn't do it because it's meant to be mastered like that, but because it lacks content and this is how it "makes up" for it. It doesn't come as a surprise that these games come with an official save state feature on the Wii U and the 3DS. I find its control scheme to be rather obsolete and as much as I wouldn't necessarily call the save system flawed, I'd still say it's something to be aware of before deciding whether to try it out or not.
Super Mario Land is assuredly a simple game, yet its creativity, diversity and short duration make the game more accessible and interesting for what it's worth. To those willing to forgive its limitations or just enjoy old school games and would see these things as strengths, Super Mario Land equals an hour or two of laughter and fun. Since at the end of the day, as weird as it is, Super Mario Land is still a Mario game.
As for myself, facing such temporal barriers added to the simplistic nature of the game were too much of a deal breaker to me and its qualities weren't as effective.
2018
[This is not a review, just an explanation of how I feel about Celeste]
As cheesy as it may sound, Celeste is the game that whole-heartedly proved to me that videogames can be art. And I love it for that.
In order to prevent this to become an unleashed sequence of passionate praising all I'm gonna do is briefly mention what caused Celeste to become one of my all time favorites.
When you have a good combo of plot + atmosphere + an easier way to play you'll hardly go wrong with me, but holy molly, Celeste not only does a spectacular job with each of these 3 individually as it also makes them work as a single thing, kind of "embracing" each other; since the story is so dramatic and "loaded", even when the only thing I'm doing is playing the game the density of the story and of Madeline's emotions stick with me during the stages, stages by which not only don't overshadow what the game is trying to tell but also makes enhance it with its brilliant ability of creating tension, determination and anxiety itself, all of it followed by a soundtrack whose description I can not do with a word other than "perfect"; Celeste would not be as good as it is without its music, same goes for every mentioned aspect. Like, I'm still getting over the fact that a game this good was still out there for me to play.
I mean, I'm not a fan of the hardcore difficulty at the final stages but as assist-mode exists I think this just makes the game even better, making another way for the game to be enjoyed.
As cheesy as it may sound, Celeste is the game that whole-heartedly proved to me that videogames can be art. And I love it for that.
In order to prevent this to become an unleashed sequence of passionate praising all I'm gonna do is briefly mention what caused Celeste to become one of my all time favorites.
When you have a good combo of plot + atmosphere + an easier way to play you'll hardly go wrong with me, but holy molly, Celeste not only does a spectacular job with each of these 3 individually as it also makes them work as a single thing, kind of "embracing" each other; since the story is so dramatic and "loaded", even when the only thing I'm doing is playing the game the density of the story and of Madeline's emotions stick with me during the stages, stages by which not only don't overshadow what the game is trying to tell but also makes enhance it with its brilliant ability of creating tension, determination and anxiety itself, all of it followed by a soundtrack whose description I can not do with a word other than "perfect"; Celeste would not be as good as it is without its music, same goes for every mentioned aspect. Like, I'm still getting over the fact that a game this good was still out there for me to play.
I mean, I'm not a fan of the hardcore difficulty at the final stages but as assist-mode exists I think this just makes the game even better, making another way for the game to be enjoyed.