Well, I finally got to play the original OutRun cabinet! The deluxe one to be specific, where the car you sit in physically shakes and turns you to match what's on screen. I thought it was pretty cool, but completely freaked my wife out when she tried it out lol. I've never been a fan of OutRun's premise I'll be honest - with it not being really a racing game, but more of a "beat the timer with a bunch of stuff in your way" kinda game, but OutRun in comparison to other car driving games at the time is GORGEOUS and plays like something we've never seen before this, allowing the player to really feel like they're in control of the car on-screen.

I'm sure if I spent more time with OutRun, I would eventually get a handle on how to play it properly, but when rating the game, I can't not rate it as anything lower than a 4-Star because this is one of those arcade games that completely revolutionized arcade history and became one of Sega's most successful cabinets to date. Gorgeous graphics, amazing music (implementing a radio to add to the immersion of driving - 12 years before GTA!), and unbelievable controls... you can even change gear! Every gamer should check OutRun out at least once in their life.

4/5

TLDR review: This is peak gaming.

Actual in depth review:
The story is completely unlike anything that came before it. The characters actually had unique goals and personalities. The story structure switched protags every few hours to get you accustomed to their tales and gameplay mechanics. Even the main antagonist had a reason behind his beliefs which was very uncommon in video games that were initially released before 1990.

Chapter 1 didn't particularly stand out to me but looking back it was a fine tutorial. It was there as a quick intro to teach players all the fundamentals before suddenly every single chapter that followed was a banger in every possible way. I can forgive an ok hour long tutorial when the rest of the game is nonstop peak gaming.

Chapter 2 introduced one of my favorite characters in the franchise, Alena. Think of any early video game that has anything even remotely close to a strong martial artist princess. There really weren't many even close. There were barely even woman leads in games back then, let alone princesses that were more than just kidnapped plot devices. But Alena? Nah she gonna punch those demon lords into oblivion. This is something I think Dragon Quest and especially this game shine at. The woman are actually super vital to the plot and I love that. Even the main hero can be a woman at the player's chice (kinda wish more DQ games had that option but that's besides the point). Kiryl was introduced in this chapter too and he grew on me quite aw bit too. Spin-offs like to build off his whack memes (his AI would cast that spell constantly in the original NES version) which is neat. Boyra is the only let down party member story wise but meh it's whatever. This chapter had a few surprises near the end that made me go "oh wait yeah this game might actually be pretty dark".

Chapter 3 blew all expectations away. What I mean by that is you play as merchant named Torneko whom has almost no good combat qualities. What you do for this chapter is try to make money and set up shops. You can even play a sell items mini game to make money, but it's definitely worth actually exploring for gold. I have to this day never played another RPG where you actually play as a merchant behind the counter selling items to heroes. There were quite a few neat discoveries I found in this chapter too like a town that only exists at a certain time of day. This chapter is also the first one where a setting is reoccurring which I think adds nice world building. So far each story felt semi standalone minus he main antag's schemes, but now you actually see things line up.

Chapters2 and 3 were good but 4 is where the ball really starts rolling. Two sibling protags trying to get revenge on their father's killer is a really good concept. Meena and Maya ae once again central woman in the story and they both have super fun move pools. Meena is a fortune teller and Maya is a spell casting dancer. Together they are powerful magic users, they add racial diversity to the cast, and they continue the family oriented kind of tales DQ likes to tell (1-3 all about a bloodline, 5 super family oriented, 6 has sibling party members, etc). Narratively and setting wise I really enjoyed chapter 4's revenge tale.

Chapter 5 begins with one of the most icon scenes in the game. Wasn't what I was expecting at all and really proved the game was going for a dark tone but with a sense of "keep moving forward even in the darkest of times". From there you make your way around the world to gather all the previous major party members. This segment is really cool because everything you've worked for so far finally comes together. You meet many legendary characters in this game like the Zenith Dragon and Estark who continue to reappear and connect multiple games in the series together. You also start learning about the main antagonist Psaro. I will really surprised to see his motivation being to protect Rose from humans that constantly abuse her. DQ is very much a story about protecting those important to you and opening one's mind to different perspectives. Not everything is black and white. Even the real world is full of conflict where both sides thin they're doing the right thing, and I think this game portrays that excellently.

The final boss is actually raw the way it transforms throughout the boss fight. DQ1 was the first RPG where a final boss had a second phase and tis game cranks that up to so many more. This is a good time to talk about the fact that this is actually a remake review because oh gosh the remake has such good DS era pixel art, especially during that final boss phase. The remake is such a vast improvement on the original in nearly every way but unfortunately within the DS version a feature called Party Chat was cut from international releases. That's why the mobile version which this review is actually for is the very best version. It lets you talk to allies at any point and they will always have something neat to say about the setting or events that transpired. It adds additional personality and world building to a game that was already full of both.

The biggest addition these remake versions have is an entirely new chapter. After beating the final boss you typically go back to right before the fight when reloading the game, which is true still, but now a new dungeon is opened up. This dungeon is difficult and a bit weird but it adds a new duo boss that upon beating, gives you access to an entirely new storyline. The rawest party member in the franchise's history joins you as you go take down an evil mastermind that is the reason most of the conflict in game occurred in the first place. The actually post credits isn't too different besides a few more characters being alive but it's such a beautiful addition nonetheless. The best part is this new story direction doesn't even break the canon of later games in any way whatsoever so you can interpret either ending as canon.

Sequels and spin-offs have greatly expanded how much I love this game too. 5 and 6 reference and build connections to 4 in such fun and unique ways. Heroes and other games also love including 4 content due to how great and large its main cast is. The game that makes me appreciate 4 the most though is Monsters The Dark Prince due to it basically being D4 from Psaro's perspective. It actually adds new twists and lore even fans of 4 would not see coming at all. DQ4 was a timeless classic by itself but even today it continues to become better and better as its legacy impacts modern games in the series immensely. Heck its not even this game that it has a vast legacy in. Games like Live A Live were directly inspired by it and that had a domino effect leading to Chrono Trigger, Xeno, Trails, etc. This game is such an important part of RPG history. It truly is the Chapters of the Chosen.

PS: I love this game so much that I have a replica of the sword, my boyfriend made me bead art of multiple party members, and I talk about the game so actively I grew a modest sized social media following. DQ4 genuinely impacted my life for the better and I'm happy thinking about it. Such a beautiful game with a great legacy. Will always be one of my favorite games of all time and that has absolutely 0 nostalgia bias behind it. In fact, it was one of the last mainline DQ games I got into. It really was just the perfect game for me.

The scope of BG2 with the production values of the later Bioware games. Insane to think that a game like this is even possible: I completed the game, something only 1 in 5 players have done based on Steam achievements, invested close to 120 hours in it and may yet have seen only 70-80% of what it has to offer.

The decision to move from RTwP to turn-based made me hesitant at first, but you quickly get used to it and other than making certain fights drag on too long, was clearly the right choice. Each action feels meaningful in a way that it didn't with RTwP. It enables a kind of deliberate encounter design that gets you out of the buffing and cloudkill/fireball cheese that was so effective in the originals.

The game empowers you in such a profound way, I struggle to put it into words. You have enormous freedom in planning your approach to each encounter. It spoils you with its action verbs. I think as gamers we were nearly ruined by the 7th gen and its war on systems. Our brains have been shaped by decades of dedication to streamlining and smoothing things out. Appreciating this game fully conversely means unlearning decades-old habits of guessing designer intent, and instead embracing improvisation and out-of-the-box thinking. Many of the most memorable moments in the game come from how quickly challenging encounters can give in to galaxy-brained schemes enabled by the game's systemic richness.

My only hesitation for the full five stars is how the game tends to sprawl in all cardinal directions (a problem that becomes very acute in the third act), and how inconsistent the tone and voice of the writing can be from moment to moment. Revisiting the BG2 party banter, it still feels superior to what was achieved here. Bioware Magic wasn't just a meme, they really had the sauce in a way that hasn't been fully replicated since. In this game, the voice acting is doing a lot of the heavy lifting of making the dialog sound natural. Often it will break the immersion with lines that are too flippant, too horny – or more commonly – just fall flat, only intermittently achieving the flow and narrative immersion that came so naturally in the Bioware games.

It looks like we won't get any follow-up or expansion to this, and that's a pity. The Forgotten Realms lore is doing a lot of lifting in making the main narrative compelling. I've really struggled to get into Larian's other games and it remains to be seen whether the qualities of this production will survive going into the Divinity universe or a new, original IP. This feels like a once-in-a-decade thing, and judging by how utterly addicted and compelled I was to finish the game, maybe that's for the best. Four and a half stars.

You feel insignificant due to the scale of the world, but not only that, the game feel has the same effect. It's hard to explain how, but it's cryptic in its puzzles and in its environment, and not knowing where you are on a map for example adds to that. Bro's loaded to the brim with all kinds of gadgets. That kid up there looking at me constantly... I must be his favorite, thanks for giving me allat stuff.

You have to wonder though, what's the point of a giant RvB if big child picks a side from the get-go? The presence of story is very limited, so it's up to us to ask those questions and find these answers. A dilemma akin to what leads someone to make a fanfic. The game is somebody's playground, yet can I find fun in it as much as that somebody is?

It's great that you can mash the sword button like an idiot. This kind of thoughtless activity is adequately representative of the lack of thought directed at how to handle the combat. It's coming to me now, the developer added mashing buttons to destroys rocks and planks, then something clicked and he realized he could add some padding with a few simple attack patterns. We already go back and forth enough as is! Kept us busy with the intricate puzzles, he did. They feel really rewarding but idk I'm not the type that likes to spend 30 minutes for every puzzle area like it's my homework, they're cryptic as I said and I could use a few pointers. Pwetty pwease.

as vezes um coração aberto n é o suficiente. as vezes um jogo infelizmente só faz jus a sua reputação mesmo. o q é uma pena, pq apesar de tudo eu amo esse jogo.

ele é sem dúvidas uma das coisas mais lindas colocadas no Mega Drive. eu amo a água, os golfinhos, as lulas e as baleias. eu amo o pouco q vc pode ver da superfície, alheia a todos os perigos q te esperam no fundo do oceano. eu amo a estranha e serena hostilidade q permeia as profundezas. eu amo o Ecco, as estrelinhas q decoram a sua cabeça, e sua determinação para salvar sua família de aliens além da compreensão humana.

a versão de Sega CD, em particular, tem algumas das melhores músicas q já ouvi em um console da sua geração. são meio q no geral apenas trilhas ambientes, mas conseguem elevar a já maravilhosa apresentação do jogo pra outro nível. amo de paixão.

mas infelizmente, aqui temos meio q diversas decisões contraditórias de design. o Ecco n é lá a criaturinha mais responsiva do mundo, e um ritmo mais lento e metódico casaria muito bem com os puzzles de exploração do jogo. porém, os constantes inimigos e armadilhas, aliados ao terrível e brutal limite de tempo da respiração do Ecco, tornam a experiência extremamente hostil. esse golfinho n consegue ficar nem dois minutos debaixo da água, e como vc pode imaginar, meio q é onde vc vai passar o jogo inteiro. a versão de Sega CD tem até alguns checkpoints um pouquinho mais generosos, mas nada q realmente salve a experiência.

eu nem sou contra esse jogo ser hostil. eu acho q uma certa hostilidade é algo q Ecco the Dolphin precisa. ele é só um carinha enfrentando seres extra-dimensionais pelo tempo e espaço, no final das contas. mas meio q a única forma de progredir nesse jogo é decorando perfeitamente o cenário e conseguir navegar por ele com a precisão de um speedrunner. o q tipo, talvez eu só n seja gamer o suficiente pra isso, mas sei q n sou a única q passa por esse perrengue. e considerando q um dos designers já foi bem honesto sobre a origem dessa dificuldade, n consigo deixar de ficar um tanto q amarga com isso.

de qualquer forma, eu amo o Ecco. eu quero dar uma chance pros outros jogo com esse carinha, e espero q o Ed Annunziata consiga um dia financiar seus planos pra um sucessor espiritual da série.

essa é a música q toca em uma das fases finais, aliás. vc precisa jogar Welcome to the Machine pra crer.

How to surpass 11 years’ worth of expectations in one fell swoop. Newcomers to this series are doubtlessly fortunate to not have to go through several of Erikson’s life stages before they can try DMC5 now, but I think it’ll always be harder to appreciate what an achievement this game is if you weren’t subject to the gargantuan wait for it. For this to exist at all is one thing, but to have ended up being the peak of not just its franchise but arguably its genre in so many ways after all that time is something else entirely.

All four of the main characters are drowning in so many unique mechanics that no amount of text really does them justice, but don’t mistake that for bloat or a lack of focus, because it’s anything but. Nero’s new caveman-like attacks and exploding Devil Breakers hones in on his reckless punky attitude and fleshes out his combat options in a way that finally makes him feel like a worthy heir to his uncle, while also helping him step out of his shadow – talk about ludowudo-whatever harmony. Vergil’s revamped Concentration meter, plethora of just frames and seamless weaving in and out of Sin Devil Trigger at no cost if you time it right feels like the fullest realisation yet of the devilishly precise fighting style that originally made him so popular. V’s characterisation as a squishy wizard differentiates him from other action games that have you fiddling about with multiple characters at once. Dante is Dante, no explanation required, but I will say that I hope Quadruple S does for modern action games what instant weapon switching did for them 20 odd years ago – you can’t help but wonder why every game with a ranking system doesn’t actively integrate it into the gameplay itself like this.

All these options wouldn’t mean much if the game around them wasn’t engaging, so it helps that the level design of DMC5 is staggeringly less obnoxious than all of its predecessors. One level might have you in a giant lift that collapses if you don’t kill the enemies on it quickly enough, revealing an alternate path through the level if it falls as opposed to making you start the challenge from scratch. Another presents you with some brief platforming challenges and doors that are about to shut on either end of them, encouraging you to make a quick decision about which way to go but not punishing you too harshly if you decide to take the path of least resistance. One even has a series of optional, demonic skating parks you can make your way through in multiple ways thanks to Nero’s obscene aerial mobility. The interconnected structure of the previous games’ levels has been shed, and yet, the levels have more ways to progress through them than ever; even the obligatory pick-up-this-item-and-put-it-here “puzzles” feel less egregious now that you can usually tackle them in different orders. A superb trade off for the dice boards and rotating towers of this world, to be sure; it's unfortunate that what's so clearly a series best in this regard is commonly written off for no reason other than that some of the levels look vaguely similar if you squint a bit.

This is true of the enemy design, too. Front to back, DMC5 has the most consistently non-annoying enemy roster in the franchise. No clipping through walls, no long periods of invulnerability that can’t be exploited, just every property of the combat system being stretched to the fullest in ways that feel 100% natural. My favourites are the two that get superarmour or teleport away if you launch them, and picking what moves to use against them becomes even more of a brain teaser when they’re accompanied by other types, who are varyingly more susceptible to being stunned or the hidden fear status effect or clashing with their sword or guard breaks or staying in the air or any number of other under-the-hood tools you have to experiment with. Between the campaign, Bloody Palace and remixed enemy placements on higher difficulties, I don’t think there’s any two enemies that aren’t fought together at some point. Not a single ounce of potential is wasted. The most capital G of gamers might feel that enemies could stand to be more aggressive or have more anti-air options to bring your fancy jump cancels to an end, but I don’t care who you are, because you have absolutely been killed by a stray Riot or Judecca at least once.

Similar credit goes to the bosses, among whom there are miraculously no misfires. Gilgamesh might seem to be on the weaker end until you remember that this is the same series in which Arkham, the Saviour, Nightmare 3 and all of DMC2 exist, after which you suddenly realise he’s either inoffensive at worst or actually quite cool. My favourite is Cavaliere, in part because the first and last of these sword clashes sent my dopamine centre soaring to new heights and it’s all downhill for me from here.

He or any other boss in DMC5 would be a standout if you drag and dropped them into most other action games, and the only reason they’re arguably not in DMC5 itself is because they in turn exist alongside Vergil. I used to prefer his DMC3 iteration – he didn’t define an entire archetype of boss fights for no reason – but as I’ve played this more and more, I realise there’s really no comparison between the two unless you put a lot of stock in presentation. There are more ways to attack, defend yourself from, clash or just generally interact with DMC5’s Vergil than in every previous appearance of his combined, down to him responding to your taunts or commenting on your performance. This isn’t to suggest that more is always better, but the key strength of Vergil has always been that he felt almost like fighting another player, and all these layers upon layers of extra mechanics go huge lengths towards simulating that.

The best games tend to be more than the sum of their parts, so it helps that every other aspect of DMC5 is about as strong as how it plays. The art direction is HUGELY undersold, juggling the weird bio-Gothic architecture of the Qliphoth with the most overtly horror enemies since DMC1 and westernised photorealism, marrying it all into a single oddly cohesive package. Bingo Morihashi ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ ᵈᶦˢᵖᵃʳᵃᵍᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶦⁿ ᵃ ʸᵒᵘᵗᵘᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᵍᵒ reconciles the series’ trademark themes of family with a metanarrative about leaving red man vs. blue man behind us in ways that cement Nero as just as legendary as either of them. You already know what the soundtrack’s like, but you probably never noticed how underrated Unwavering Bravery is, so listen to that.

As per Dragon’s Dogma 2’s recent announcement, we’re at most a few years away from video games becoming a solved medium, but DMC5 should by no means be seen as just a pit stop on the way there. You can tell Itsuno threatened to quit if Capcom’s higher ups didn’t let him carry out this game exactly the way he wanted, because every last iota of it oozes passion both for the series itself and everyone who's ever worked on it. Dante has a taunt sourced from a Kamiya tweet, and if that isn’t love, what is?

“DMC is back,” and it’s such a satisfying outing that I don’t mind if it never is again.

Unmatched in the field of causing involuntary bodily responses in the player, the difficulty of F-Zero X itself’s exceeded only by that of trying not to squirm in your chair as you (un)successfully round corners at >1500km/h, bump rival racers off the track while trying to avoid speeding headlong into the abyss yourself or snatch first place out of an increasingly tenuous situation just as a guitar solo kicks in like it’s cheering you on.

The constant multisensory tug of war comprising every race’s brought about in large part thanks to a significant emphasis on tracks’ newfound verticality, enabled by one of the N64’s relatively unsung (though no less impactful) series-first forays into 3D, but it wouldn’t be complete without the mechanics themselves getting a makeover too. What’s probably the most crucial example of this is that boosting’s gone from its own independent resource, as in the first F-Zero, to something you now have to sacrifice your vehicle’s health to use. It’s streamlining at its finest; races rarely play out the same way because there’s no longer a guarantee of either you or your competitors being able to boost upon the completion of each lap, it’s inherently riskier to use but with greater potential reward due to the momentum gained from it carrying over into slopes or airtime, and it paves the way for strategies and decision-making which weren’t really present before. Will you have a comfortable amount of health left for the next lap if you boost partway through the healing zone? Are you gonna do without healing altogether to go for gold and beeline for the boost pad between them instead? Boosting up this hill could rocket you ahead of the crowd, but is your health and the geometry ahead sufficient for a safe landing? With how little time you have to make up your mind, each race leaves your frontal lobe as sweaty as your palms.

All of this in turn has the knock-on effect of enhancing the death race concept at the heart of F-Zero, brought to the forefront by and intertwined with the addition of attacks you and your opponents’ vehicles can perform. At the cost of momentarily decelerating, you can either horizontally ram into other vehicles or spin to win, stalling whoever you hit for the most critical of split seconds and dealing damage proportional to each party’s speed and/or proximity to walls. How smartly this is incentivised becomes increasingly apparent as you ramp up the difficulty and other racers’ AI becomes accordingly aggressive – to come out on top on Expert or above, you pretty much have to kill your designated rival at least once both to broaden your own margin of error and halt their accruement of points, the health it grants you being similarly precious given how often you’ll be boosting. On a less tangible level, there are in general few outlets for gamer malice so cathartic as hearing a series of brrrrrings sound out as you position yourself for a double kill, nevermind doing so by rendering Fox McCloud an orphan in the opening seconds via the world’s least ethically sound game of pinball.

While the actual Death Race mode itself’s a bit anaemic, having only a single track (albeit one unique to it) in which other racers mind their own business instead of trying to bump you off too, it’s nonetheless a useful stomping ground for practicing these mechanics and is balanced out by more substantial post-game unlocks. My favourite racer doesn’t become playable until after the credits roll, for one thing, but the main draw in this regard’s the X Cup and its randomised tracks. Even if it seemingly can’t generate loop-de-loops, cylinders or steep vertical inclines in general, the layouts still manage to become chaotic enough and unlike any of the handcrafted ones to the point that you’ll invariably want to give it at least a few spins. “Ahead of its time” is a phrase I typically don’t like, since the way it’s often used feeds into the idea that new = inherently better and rarely references any actual points of comparison. That said, it feels appropriate in this case when you take into consideration the relative prominence of roguelike side modes and/or DLCs with similar emphasis on procedural generation that’ve crept their way into multiple major releases in the past couple of console gens – the people are crying out for what this game essentially had as a free bonus when I was still being wheeled about in a pram.

As much can be said of F-Zero X in general. Beyond its intentional minimisation of graphics exemplifying the uncanny foresight of Nintendo’s president at the time, it seems as if must have been on the minds of the team behind Mario Kart 8 (currently the second-highest selling first party title ever) to some extent given not just the appearance of both Mute City and Big Blue in it, but also the conceptual overlap between its anti-grav segments and X’s dizzying track designs. Tighten your frame of reference to just its own series and even more recent evidence of how rock solid these mechanics are presents itself in the form of F-Zero 99; while its Skyway and titular battle royale idea help carve out its own more accessible, comparably well-considered spin, it’s also simultaneously a fusion of the first game’s assets with X’s systems. In short, there’s at least a few reverberations of how much this game gets right still being felt, as well as of how timeless its appeal remains, enough so to be more digestible to today’s players than you’d initially assume. If and/or when they decide to prove as much again by taking another crack at the formula, hopefully it won’t be set upon by quite as many people who’ve never played any of them for not being the “proper” franchise revival they were definitely clamouring for.

This is all to say: don’t be intimidated by its steep learning curve and give it a whirl, because the F stands for fun and there are too few games which let you do something like this completely by accident. Like its announcer whose garbled voice gave my brother shellshock says, it’s way out in front.

Something this singularly focused and confident in what it’s setting out to achieve goes beyond a breath of fresh air and into the realm of interactive mouthwash. Nearly everything about Penny’s game encourages you to stay on the move at all times – it’s present in how the secret areas’ entryways outright throw you in or out, its main enemy type’s mode of attack being chasing you, her bouncy bunny-like outfit and the combo system rewarding you for every trick you pull, and it knows what a joy it is to do so to the point that its main collectibles reward with you with progressively zanier layouts to test your mastery of it in.

It all hinges on building and maintaining momentum, so it’s just as well that her toolkit feeds into both so intuitively. Comparisons to different platformers in this respect are easy – I got enough mileage out of her drop dash equivalent that I occasionally forgot she also has a spin dash one – but viewing this game through the lens of others is selling it short when her yo-yo swing’s the type of thing which makes returning to them initially feel weird for the lack of it. It’s so malleable it’s unreal: an on-demand boost whose strength’s proportional to her speed going into it, contextualised into her design, which can mantle up ledges or grab special items or correct jumps, all dependent on the angle at which you let go and the nearby geometry. Rarely will any two attempts at the same section of a level pan out the same way because of it alone, and that’s without delving into how fluidly almost all of her other manoeuvres interweave with it and what a complementary fit they are for stages so littered with half-pipes and slopes. By no means am I a capital P Penny gamer as of yet, but hopefully this shows what I mean to some degree.

I say “almost” for the same reason as the “nearly” at the start, because although it’s a resounding success at funnelling you into a flow state the vast majority of the time, one or two common interactions stand out as uncharacteristically finicky. The window for maintaining a combo when transitioning from a yo-yo swing into spinning on top of screws feels excessively strict, slightly marring how much I’m predisposed to love any control scheme which even vaguely reminds me of Ape Escape, while obstacles which require Penny to come to a stop (like tree catapults or giant drawers) seem incongruent with how you otherwise pretty much always want to be moving. I’m hesitant to criticise these aspects too much because all manner of unconventional games, not just skill-intensive ones like Penny’s, suffer too often from players’ tendencies to blame them for their own lack of willingness to meet them on their own terms, and knowing that levels can be beat in a single combo makes me think the relative discomfort of these moments is my own fault. Occasional collision issues and/or clipping through terrain are more unambiguously annoying, but in any case, stuff like this is only so conspicuous because everything else about how it plays is so bang on.

That’s similarly true of its levels themselves. While it’s a bit of a pity that the amount of levels per area vary so steeply – Industria and Tideswell, my two favourites in part for the Dynamite-Headdy-if-he-real visuals and being yet further evidence for why Tee Lopes should be made to compose every game ever, only have two levels each – any pacing issues this could’ve potentially resulted in are offset by what a smooth difficulty curve they result in when taken wholistically. The progression from early hazards like water, which can be manipulated to the player’s advantage via the point bonuses it offers by riding on top of it with enough speed, to the absolutely no-touchy electrical discharges powered by breakable lightbulbs in later areas creates this lovely feeling of the game taking its gloves off just as you’ve become acclimatised enough with its systems to no longer need the help. I initially found it frustrating that hazards like the latter hurt Penny if her yo-yo collides with them, but after sitting on it, I can now see that it’s just another example of what a unique platformer this is – substantially extending her hurtbox whenever you perform a trick causes you to really consider when and where to do so in a way that many others don’t really demand of you.

It's evocative of a larger point, which is that Penny’s Big Breakaway is the type of game we could all do with more of. It’s one that’s not afraid to be so out-there in both mechanics and visual design to the point of potentially being offputting for some. It’s one which tangibly takes enough inspiration from the like of Sonic or Mario Odyssey to feel immediately familiar on some level, yet also puts equally as much of its own spin on areas in which it shares common ground with bigger names to the extent that you can’t treat it like them. It’s one that’s in general so unabashedly itself that you can’t not respect it regardless of whether or not it’s to your personal taste, but if you’re at all into the kind of game which gives out as much as you put in and only becomes better as you yourself do, there’s too much on offer here executed to too high of a standard for it not to be.

To extend to it the highest praise in a more succinct way: in art direction, ethos and gameplay philosophy, this is essentially a fully 3D Mega Drive game. Breakaway indeed.