Ico is the type of game I dread to play, critically acclaimed, landmark classic of the medium, influenced various games and designers I love. I dread playing those because of a fear I have, a fear that's come true : I don't like ICO, in fact, I think I might hate ICO. And now I will have to carry that like a millstone around my neck, "that asshole who doesn't like ICO". Its not even really that external disapproval I dread, its the very reputation that causes me to second guess my own sincerely held opinions. I thought I liked minimalism in game design, and cut-scene light storytelling and relationships explored through mechanics but I guess I don't. There's some kinda dissonance, cognitive or otherwise reading reviews by friends and writers I respect and wondering if there's something wrong with me or if I didnt get it or played it wrong or any other similar foolishness that gets bandied around in Internet discussions. "I wish we could have played the same game" I think, reading my mutuals' reviews of ICO. Not in a dismissive asshole way of accusing them of having a warped perception, but moreso in frustration that I didnt have the experience that has clearly touched them and countless others.

But enough feeling sorry for myself/being insecure, what is my problem with ICO exactly? I don't really know. Genuinely. I wasnt even planning on writing a review originally because all it would come down to as my original unfiltered reaction would be "Playing it made me miserable". Thankfully the upside of minimalism in game design is that its easier to identify which elements didnt work for me because there are few in the game. I think the people who got the most out of ICO developed some kind of emotional connection to Yorda, and thats one aspect which absolutely didn't work for me. As nakedly "gamey" and transparently artificial as Fallout New Vegas' NPCs (and Skyrim and F3 etc) locking the camera to have a dialogue tree, they read to me as infinitely more human than the more realistic Yorda; for a few reasons. Chief among them is that despite some hiccups and bugs the game is known for, you are not asked to manage them as a gameplay mechanic beyond your companions and well, my main interaction with Yorda was holding down R1 to repeatedly yell "ONG VA!" so she'd climb down the fucking ladder. She'd climb down, get halfway through and then decide this was a bad idea and ascend again.

ICO has been to me a game of all these little frustrations piling up. Due to the nature of the puzzles and platforming, failing them was aggravating and solving them first try was merely unremarkable. It makes me question again, what is the value of minimalism genuinely? There was a point at which I had to use a chain to jump across a gap and I couldnt quite make it, I thought "well, maybe theres a way to jump farther" and started pressing buttons randomly until the circle button achieved the result of letting me use momentum to swing accross. Now, if instead a non-diegetic diagram of the face buttons had shown up on the HUD instead what would have been lost? To me, very little. Sure, excessive direction can be annoying and take me out of the game, but pressing buttons randomly did the same, personally. Nor did "figuring it out for myself" feel particularly fulfilling. Thats again what I meant, victories are unremarkable and failures are frustrating. The same can be said for the combat which, honestly I liked at first. I liked how clumsy and childish the stick flailing fighting style was, but ultimately it involved hitting the enemies over and over and over and over again until they stopped spawning. Thankfully you can run away at times and rush to the exit to make the enemies blow up but the game's habit of spawning them when you're far from Yorda or maybe when she's on a different platform meant that I had to rely on her stupid pathfinding to quickly respond (which is just not going to happen, she needs like 3 business days to execute the same thing we've done 5k times already, I guess the language barrier applies to pattern recognition as well somehow) and when it inevitably failed I would have to jump down and mash square until they fucked off.

I can see the argument that this is meant to be disempowering somehow but I don't really buy it. Your strikes knock these fuckers down well enough, they just keep getting back up. Ico isnt strong, he shouldnt be able to smite these wizard of oz monkeys with a single swing, but then why can they do no damage to ICO and get knocked down flat with a couple swings? Either they are weak as hell but keep getting remotely CPRd by the antagonist or they're strong but have really poor balance. In the end, all I could really feel from ICO was being miserable. I finished the game in 5 hours but it felt twice that. All I can think of now is that Im glad its done and I can tick it off the bucket list. I am now dreading playing shadow of the colossus even harder, and I don't think I ever want to play The Last Guardian, it just looks like ICO but even more miserable. I'm sure I've outed myself as an uncultured swine who didnt get the genius of the experience and will lose all my followers but I'm too deflated to care. If there is one positive to this experience is that I kept procrastinating on finishing the game that I got back into reading. I read The Name of the Rose and Rumble Fish, pretty good reads. Im going to read Winesburg Ohio next I think.

I'm in love with the way EO leverages the DS to digitize manual mapping. absolutely wonderful, beautiful stuff that captures the spirit of the genre a billion million zillion times better than any automap ever could. in a perfect world this would've heralded imitative ports of every drpg under the sun, and all of them would've been strong contenders for the best versions by default. unfortunately we live in the eternal piss and shit dimension so I'm doomed to pout about the missed opportunity for the rest of my life

as for the rest: game's like one of those images where either you see the old crone or the smokin hot babe; the lamp or the smoking hot babe; the white and gold dress or the smokin hot babe. you know?

from what I gather if you're coming at it from an EO perspective this thing feels like it was coded straight into zhoukoudian limestone by the peking man. folks act like it's the dustiest, crustiest, most satanic verses ass antipathetic crawler ever made. they're out here throwing blankets over their ds at night like a furby to stop it from talking backwards and shit

but if you're coming at it from a broader drpg ("blobbers" if ya nasty) perspective it's almost the complete opposite: decidedly modern, breezy, and accommodating; its push toward transparency, telegraphs, and convenience at odds with the core tension loop pre-bradley wizardry clones fundamentally rely on

I fall into the second category and found most of this to be pretty dry. by the time I hit the 5th Stratum I was approaching vegetative status, zoning out and mashing A with one hand while reading scandalous celebrity gossip on my phone in the other. hovering out of body, well above the dungeon rather than being subsumed by it; existing outside of stress, anxiety, and uneasy decision making. EO just doesn't got the stomach to wrench your guts around, put you on the perpetual backstep, or fill the role of derelict steward the way the most successful clones do

which is fine! I like most of the experimentation here in isolation; there's a dialogue happening that's a lot more interesting than reheating 1980-1988 endlessly. the deterministic angle opens up a lot of unique design avenues; character building could easily swerve toward embracing shortform tactics over longform attrition; and moments like B20F show that FOEs can be more than softball fodder goin woop woop woop in a 3x3 grid. there's a lot to be excited about, it just needs to be contextualized in ways that flatter rather than compromise

more than anything EO needs to stop being uncomfortable in borrowed skin and start being comfortable in its own. no reason to be another mediocre wizardry when it could be a great etrian odyssey 🌈 ⭐❤️

Parry Nightmare is something of a bullet hell game, where instead of solely trying to dodge your main form of attack is parrying approaching enemies. You play as a soul, trapped in a lucid nightmare along with your demonic guardian Honnou, in which you must fight and reflect on major points of trauma and stress in your life.

I have a few points of contention with this game. I will start first by saying that aesthetically and atmospherically, it succeeds hard. Despite being short, it gives off a well polished and kind of eccentric vibe... when I first started playing, I thought it had a feeling like Paper Mario or Warioware though the gameplay didnt reflect that, of course.

The game is hard. It might be one of the most difficult games I have ever played. It is not like other bullet hells, where they slowly ease you into things, with your safety net of bombs or other clearing objects for when you get stuck. You stand in a circular room, enemies coming from all sides, your main point of interaction is hitting A when an enemy gets within a certain range of you to parry. Honnou will then shoot when they are down and you can collect a light fragment from them, 100 being needed to beat the level... though, one light drop from one enemy only seems to be .1 instead of a full figure, which isnt that big of a problem, but you also cant see at first and need to collect 70 of these light drops to have a full range of the room. You can not take many hits, and when youre down to your last health you become sluggish until you gain some more (which pretty much means youre going to die), your clearing bomb isnt on hand but instead its built up when you do well, so if you get hit once or parry early you can lose it and become overwhelmed. Bosses can also only be hit with this attack and take up a large portion of the arena. Even though traditional bullet hells are long, somehow dying in this feels worse. The levels are short, can be beaten in under 5 minutes, but somehow every time I died I felt like it wasnt my fault. Enemies move very, very fast and its incredibly easy to just have a boss sit its ass right down on you when youre sluggish and can barely move. It feels like I make one tiny mistake, parry early, my level goes down (as it does when you miss a parry), then Honnou isnt strong enough to fight off everyone and I get overwhelmed and die and now its dark again and uuuuugh. If there was one safety net (like a mid level checkpoint) I feel like it would be much more manageable, but as it is now it is insanely difficult.

Story-wise, I also had a sour taste in my mouth after finishing. Parry Nightmare takes place in Japan, and a lot of the protagonist girl's problems extend out of stresses common in the region (high workload, lack of personal time, shaky relationship with family), and though these issues are semi-universal, the problem presents itself in how the ending treats these traumas. Throughout the game, the girl makes it clear that she is deeply miserable on a base level to the point where she barely recognizes she has things she enjoys. She has little time to herself, her entire life commandeered and seen through what other people expect of her, down to the makeup brand she uses. Her mother makes her deeply unhappy and scared her as a child, her apartment is messy and fraught witn objects reminding her of stress. It is clear that if she continues living the way she is living, ignoring the messages from her body and mind, that she will get deeply sick, live a completely unsatisfying life, and probably die early. That's what I thought the game was leading up to- a wakeup call, time to make a change. Instead, the ending? "Your soul can overcome anything! Just keep pushing through!" And then it cuts to a cutscene where the girl is doing her work efficiently and talking to her mom on the phone, happily. So, what is it then? Was the moral of the story that everyone has things that stress them out, that the best thing we can ever hope to do is "push through them" instead of confronting why it is exactly that we dislike our parents, yet can't seem to admit it, why it is that we force ourselves to work so hard. Is the best we can ever hope to do is "push through" all of it? Is that healthy? There is a major contradiction in the game's messaging here. Though it seems like you're fighting off these traumas at first, it appears all you're capable of doing is subduing them until the next time they wring their ugly neck out in whatever form they take next. It felt icky, watching this person go back to a job they hate and a mother that has hurt them. I cant stand that ideology of "just deal with it" that has ruined many bodies and minds all at once.

So, it was interesting. Parry Nightmare feels good, solid. It's mostly the attitude it takes on the matter of stress that sours my opinion of it in general, as well as the difficulty. If you like short, challenging games then perhaps I would reccomend checking it out, just don't go taking life lessons from it.

List of mods I used available on my pastebin post here. I should also note that “Mastered” in my case means getting all the achievements, leaving out a handful of Thieves Den Awards that become active or otherwise easier to nab in NG+.

For an RPG I heavily played well over a month, fresh and pampered from revisiting Persona 3 in its original and remade form prior, as well as the hot button topic it’s become over the years, you'd expect I'd have a lot to say about Persona 5 Royal. Well... I don't, really. All I can think about in my sleep deprived state is how my 200+ hour venture - and that's generously ignoring inflated idle times Steam's counter acclimates - is how woefully underwhelming the package was save for a few bright spots, and how dispassionately apathetic I became after finally finishing and scouring out for the light.

It’s funny I mentioned my time investment a bit off the heels of a discord within FF7 Rebirth’s activities and planning, cause it should be mentioned (and emphasized) that it’s actually pretty easy to focus and fine-tune your palette into whatever it is you desire. No one except yourself, and perhaps foolish pride, is forcing you to do all of those activities after all, unless they’re particularly easy to nab off the beaten path. That is, of course, neglecting the key component: the focal point where all points are stitched and huddled around, an area P5R constantly falters over. Already saw a flashback sequence? Fret not, you’re gonna be subjugated to it not 10 minutes after. Got a good grasp of the ongoings of the story, be it by themes or event details? Alright, but you’re gonna have to bear the condescending attitude as you watch the character(s) exposit these things anyway. Grew a form of investment over a beat and how it unfolds before and during the main show? Slow your roll there bucko, you haven’t heard about the overly unnecessary and outright damaging undercurrent that ruins it! Sure, it sounds like hyperbole, and as you go along many of these detriments are either quelled or nulled, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re present, nor does it alleviate their weight of bloat and the meekish presentation of what are honestly some pretty simple themes. The fact it took my entire first session of play to get to the initial true Free Time event on the 18th, whereas P3 - both versions, might I add - give me that freedom within just a few short hours and P4 just about half of this, is appalling.

The writing woes extend to the Phantom Thieves themselves, which I suppose isn’t a Hot Take or anything since there’s been a bit of a debate surrounding them over the years. To dispel some common points, I don’t believe the notion that they are “centered” around Joker - on the contrary, not only is this running along the recurring theme of “kinship through displacement”, there’s already a bit of an established line between Ann and Ryuji, Futaba and Sojiro, and, though faint and dubious, Makoto and Haru. As a group, there’s a rather believable sense of friendship and camaraderie developed and finalized throughout the course of the story amidst the hustle and bustle of urban civilization, which is a bit of a surprise since I was pessimistically expecting the opposite. What did come true, unfortunately, is the lack of individualism and the expression that's delivered from it. The handling of Ann and Haru are criticized enough that I don’t think I can add anything to the former’s blobby mold of an archetype and hypocritical implementation of her supposed freedom of self-expression, and the latter’s seed of growth taken away due to the already mentioned bloat plaguing the game; same with Ryuji and how his (great) Social Link about reliance on others and strength through teamwork is routinely undermined by him being treated as a joke within the main cutscenes. Futaba is ostensibly headcanoned as one under the Autism umbrella, and while the intent is competently delivered and well-handled, the amount of #GAMER allusions are poor and clumsily handled, leading to a bumpy state of her psyche. Yusuke, who’s SL arc revolves around the dichotomy of man and their drive of passion within the hobbyist and professional mindset, is often treated as The Quirky Oddball One of the group with superficial understanding as to what art is since they did this like, twice before I guess and believed third time is truly the charm, which is also why they made Morgana have the same arc as Teddie and Aigis but without any of the things that made those two compelling. Of the group, Makoto is the one with the fewest weights holding her down; her arc is straightforward, explored to its fullest in her SL with little downplay within the narrative, and her importance in the group is always front and center. Her straight-edge nature can be too plain at times, granted, as are her connecting points regarding resolve and resolution, but compared to everyone else? It’s way easier to swallow. To reiterate, however, my main issue isn’t with the characters themselves, honestly I only truly despise Morgana and his obnoxious (albeit small in intensity) demeanor - it’s just kind of hard to truly feel connected with the group when the game seems to treat them more so as dolls for amusement than actual people, something even P4 never fully succumbed to during its outing.

I kind of wish I had more to say, really, cause it’s not as if I totally hate P5R or anything. There’s some good bits in here, like the full exploration of escapism as a theme finally being done here thanks to the “Royal” part of the game desperately giving the endgame a sense of closure, some of the non-essential confidants like Hifumi, Mishima, Chihaya and Yoshida being great to explore despite the drawbacks, and the superbosses being a fair bit of fun to go over. But, like, I’m not really sure what more I can add unfortunately. I’d sort of just be repeating common talking points and, compounded by the fact I’m facing burnout from both writing and my aforementioned time allocation, it just feels fruitless to go over? Like I don’t want to be the umpteenth mouthpiece going over how ridiculously easy this game is even excluding Merciless’ baffling(ly hilarious) modifiers pertaining to player favor and the constricted dungeon design making it so that ambushes are a rare, if ever present, occurrence one can face, cause everyone already discussed that. Did you know that, even in the original team, there were some Etrian Odyssey battle planners? Really makes me wonder how the hell it ended up so milquetoast in engagement, dungeon layout, and the us v them nature of gameplay routing when EO1’s first two stratums already had more going on. It’s also why I’m hardpressed to mention my adoration with Third Semester, cause I can’t quite word it in a way that isn’t already brought up by the people, what with Maruki, Akechi, and Kasumi being the ethos, pathos, and logos of Joker’s - and by principle, Yuki and Narukami’s - Wild Card slot and the reflection they face should his life be altered ever so slightly. I dunno man, it’s like… expansion aside, this is the RPG that got a lot of people into the genre now? The Atlus mega-hit? I’m a lot cooler on the problems than others seem to be, and I wouldn’t cynically berate others over this cause that’s stupid and rude, but it does leave me scratching my head and wondering what else I had missed in my long, long journey as an urbanite Fool.

One of my favorite gaming experiences and my favorite Soulslike. A combination of Bloodborne and Sekiro was bound to win me over. It’s so amazing how so many people were extremely excited, but weary because of soulslike games past as well as this being from a new studio and they blew everyone’s expectations out of the water.

The world design, lore, soundtrack, combat, and characters are all immaculate and so well made. It was entirely unexpected this would actually improve upon Fromsoft’s combat and game design. From the weapon system with its combinations of weapon heads and handles, rally system but having to block for it to work, markers on the map/level layout for side quests, and more there were so many nice additions. Krat is so well designed and atmospheric that I love just looking and walking around. It’s one of my favorite gaming locations. The soundtrack is beautiful and I love being able to play vinyl in the hotel.

I loved a ton of the bosses, namely Laxasia, King of Puppets, Andreus, and the final boss. Most all of the bosses had amazing designs, lore, and movesets and had a high difficulty.

I love how this has a more in your face story similar to Sekiro. I can’t wait for the dlc/next game teased in the endings and to replay the game and try and platinum it. Highly recommend this to anyone!

Cosy, wholesome, zen. I don’t outright hate these terms when discussing video games but as discussed on The Computer Game Show trying to use those terms as a genre title feels, incorrect, possibly disingenuous.
Horror is a genre, not “scary”, the decision of what something feels like is up to its audience.
It may sound redundant but acting as if cosy is a genre is the equivalent to filing a game under “fun”.

I have definitely used these words to describe games in the past. I am a fan of having games that I can relax with, zone out a little and not feel pressured or even stressed.
A Little to the Left aims for a feeling of being cosy, simple and just nice. Organising varying objects into a tidy manner as a simple puzzle, while along the way introducing a long-haired white cat to add to the everyday wholesome feeling the game is aiming for, using this cat as a game mechanic to either mess with your tidying or as a theme to the puzzles.

I love cats, but I feel that, let’s just call them “cat people”, end up elevating a lot of things that include cats to a pedestal they do not deserve.
This again just added to a feeling which may make me sound miserable, of being told I should like something which had me push back against it.
I will decide whether the game is wholesome, not the game itself.

As far as the organising and puzzles, A Little to the Left fails to do either in a way that really landed with me.
In terms of organising, the feeling is enjoyable for a moment and quickly repetitive. These items other than feeling quite “everyday” don’t really do anything else but act as icons, there is no story within them unlike Unpacking - the game I would say really pushed this subgenre.

The puzzles again are repetitive, organise by size, organise in a colour gradient, make something symmetrical, there is really not much else to them other than this.
Once you understand the game’s language, what it decides is organised, you can solve each puzzle within seconds, maybe replaying for different solutions but quickly moving on.

Another issue with the puzzles themselves is the interactions of simply picking up and putting stuff down never feels precise enough and also doesn’t feel marked out enough to do quickly.
Many times I would have items in the right order but the game had me fiddle with the items until lined up perfectly and that in my eyes, doesn’t feel relaxed or cosy, it feels annoying and like busy work. I will also add here that one puzzle the game would not allow me to solve even though I had everything correct (I ended up using the hint and then guides to check) but because it wouldn’t progress I spent minutes fiddling for no gain.

Sadly repetition is the biggest flaw of A Little to the Left and the finale really ramps this to a stage where I found myself saying “I don’t care about this cat”.

Perhaps there is an argument that I should have played this game in shorter bursts and to a degree I agree with that assessment. However, this further enforces the final point I’d like to make about this game. It’s in the wrong format.

This title is on PC and all the modern consoles, and outside of the Switch and maybe the Steam Deck I don’t think this fits. It has “mobile game” written all over it and whilst I don’t intend that to be an insult it does make it feel wrong playing on a bigger screen.
Multiple stages with tiny puzzles and little in the way of connective thread throughout them just reminds me of the classic games on iOS such as Angry Birds, Cut the Rope or even Monument Valley although that feels more narratively driven.

A Little to the Left is a Little Disappointing.

When Cyberpunk 2077 dropped, my computer was a budget rig already going on ten years old. I assumed the old gal probably wouldn't handle the upcoming release too well, so I let it pass me by. Turns out this was a clever play on my part, for the game sucked ass at launch, and I already had enough on my plate as it was. The world kept turning, Cyberpunk sank into the murkiness of memories past. So it goes.

It's late 2023, people are talking about this game again. I haven't thought about Cyberpunk since the initial slew of giggles caused by cars sinking into the pavement, 3D penises, and the anti-fun teleporting police force. Turns out, CD Projekt Red was beavering away on un-fucking the video game and now people I trust are quickly reporting that they've managed it. Indeed, it's good now. There's a new DLC. There's a tie-in anime animated by Studio Trigger. There's clearly a big push going on, and it sticks in my mind. Before long, it's 2024 and I'm reinstalling Steam on a hot new PC after holding a memorial service for my now-deceased old gaming rig. What can I use to show this fucking thing off?, I wonder to myself. I notice Cyberpunk 2077 is 50% off. Why not.

I didn't know anything in detail about the Cyberpunk setting before booting the game up, but I spent enough of my misguided youth flipping through Shadowrun rulebooks to know the jist of what to expect. Corporations rule America, if not the world, and the increasingly commercialised future sucks. But at least you can install a jackhammer for your dick or relive a violent kidnapping using virtual reality. Strictly speaking, I don't know whether Shadowrun or Cyberpunk came first and don't care to get into the weeds of it, but this felt like a fairly loving depiction of the trash-heap future we've all come to know and love. Equal focus is given to the glitz and glamour of the ultra-rich as well as the dirt-grinding poverty experienced by the rest of the population. Night City looks good, and there were a couple of times when cruising between objectives I would pull over and just admire the scenery.

I'm grateful to the game's commitment in forcing the player to assume a role. Rather than a blank-slate glass of tap water, V is kind of a pisshead who fancies themselves bulletproof. This makes sense for someone who makes a living through violence and extortion in a culture which lionizes it. You can steer how V responds to things, usually whether you dismember someone who crosses you during a mission or whether you live and let live, but there are constants which you won't be changing. I found the consistency in this made it easier to pick options other than the usual doormat Neutral Good choice of letting everyone go and excusing every sleight against you. This world is a violent pit of suckass, so sometimes you have to shrug and ignore the dude tied up in your trunk. V isn't getting paid to ask questions. I also appreciate that some Quest NPCs aren't given any magical protection, so I was able to complete the questline about a middle-manager getting away with a hit-and-run crime by interrupting her with 90 submachinegun bullets to the head and departing through a window.

At its core, the story is a relatively simple one. The main thrust can feel longer than it is because it's so easy to fall down the rabbit hole of doing random sidequests, but the actual time it takes for V to get dicked over and have Keanu Reeves installed in their brain-computer isn't high. If you put your nose down and only hit the critical path, I don't think the game would take much longer than 20-25 hours on a first play. I don't think the main story would feel terrific if you did that, since a lot of the enjoyment for me comes from better understanding the world and the complexity of your struggle against it, which is informed massively by the more involved sidequests with major characters. At the end of the day, V wants to get the Keanu Pentium out of their dome, and has a few different paths to get there. I don't think the story is saying anything earth-shattering, but I also respect that it has a simple and narrow focus: find the cure, or die trying. No matter what ending happens to V, the world's going to keep on turning, and only a scarce handful of people will really know what went down. I like it. It's very ham-fistedly contrasted against Johnny Silverhand's desperate struggle to change the world (and the total failure to do so), but this isn't a harsh criticism. Sometimes the blunt instrument of narrative is fine, too.

Special mention should be made for the Phantom Liberty DLC, which has a much more reactive and crazy finale than the base game. At least, the path I wound up on was dope as hell. Capping the frentic encounter by strolling through a crowd of Tier 1 operators as they pop and fry with red/black lightning and spooky screams cut with low-fi modem noises is chef's-kiss good. This shit sizzles. More of this please.

The game's mechanics are its weakest point, in that knowing not all of them are ones you might want to engage with. At its core, Cyberpunk 2077 is a first-person looter shooter with a GTA framework for driving and police action. I guess a more modern take would be Red Dead Redemption, but fuck you, I didn't play the cowboy game. You can get lost infinitely in identical plot-less sidequests that pop up while you are driving from A to B, which might tire you out before you do something with a bit more bite to it. Similarly, anything related to getting GTA-esque police stars is a waste of time and effort. Just drive past anything cop-related and save yourself the time.

The gun-game portion of this feels less mechanically brittle than something like Borderlands, but still runs into the same shortcomings: hitting someone in the head with an assault rifle bullet for 15% of their health bar never feels fun. This can be circumvented by not using assault rifles. I'm not sure what niche that weapon class was meant to fill, but they're effectively a long-range poking device which tries to be everything at once, specializing in nothing. If you want to explode someone in one hit, use a sniper rifle with explosive bullets or a double-barreled shotgun. If you want to kill someone in a hose of bullets, use a submachinegun. If you want to win the encounter, use a two-handed club or a katana. Just do not use assault rifles. Fucking popguns. Having played on Very Hard, the game was at its most fun when using bullet time implants to go all Metal Gear Rising on people or circlestrafe around them while dumping 1000 rounds/minute into their heads. Trying to play this as a tactical shooter ala Squad will just get you chipped down unless you vastly overmatch the encounter. I think if you are the kind of person who can enjoy a gun game where numbers come out of people's heads, this does the job very well, or at least as well as I have seen that kind of gameplay.

Ultimately I enjoyed my time with Cyberpunk 2077 more than I expected I would, given the apparently dogshit state it released in. I feel bad saying this about something with so much work put into it, but I don't think it's an era-defining masterpeice. It's a very good game that looks and plays well, with a focused story and a fun cast of characters. The tale it told did not make me think very hard, and the gameplay did not demand any tough decision-making on my part. The finest summer blockbuster you can muster, yeah, sure, but wake me when Labyrinth of Touhou 3 comes out.

Fruitless back-and-forths over Tomb Raider often put me in the same headspace: thinkin' about Oddworld. Now there's a solid cinematic platformer for the PlayStation 1, one with expressive characters, imaginative environments, a great sense of humor and actual messaging to compliment it's fun and often challenging puzzles. Lara can't like, mind control a bear and make it explode. I rest my case.

But opening up my copy of Abe's Oddysee immediately presents something bleakly funny: the definition of a quintology. Oh Lorne. Poor Lorne. They screwed the man at every turn. From pressing the first run of discs with a repeatable, game breaking bug (in Lorne's words, the person who made this call was not "a Gamer"), to Gamestop publishing a guide that immediately funneled new players into the most difficult hidden screens of the game, to his regrets over Exoddus and Sony throwing Soulstorm up on PS+ to die... Like Xenosaga and Shenmue, it doesn't matter if you have a story to tell or the creativity and temerity to do it, the games industry will chew you up and spit you out like some form of tangy meat popsicle. New n' tasty indeed.

Listen to Lorne Lanning talk about Oddworld for any length of time, and it becomes quickly apparent just how passionate and creatively driven he is. Ars Technica's extended War Stories interview is something I throw on at least once a year because I find his background to be fascinating, and his recollections on navigating creative and industrial fields leading to the formation of his studio, Oddworld Inhabitants, provides a considerable amount of insight as to how his worldview - and consequentially, the themes of Oddworld - formed.

Abe's Oddysee was always intended to have a message, and so gameplay was appropriately designed around the particular anxieties and beliefs Lorne wished to express. As funny as it would be to find Abe strapped, you don't shoot guns, something that was a point of contention with staff at Oddworld Inhabitants. Instead, you "shoot words" (and farts) through gamespeak, a mechanic that allows the player to interface on a more personal level with the game than simply pulling a trigger... Though through mind control, you do still do that. Sometimes the creative process demands compromise.

One complaint I would have about this system is that much of your time rescuing Modokons is front and backloaded, with an extremely lengthy middle game chronicling Abe's trials outside of Rupture Farms tucking most Modokon rescues behind hidden screens and portals. To a certain extent, loading the game so full of secrets is good and provides replayability, but I found the puzzles in which you're trying to disarm a hazardous area and lead as many Modokons to safety as possible to be more engaging than the segmented puzzle rooms of Paramonia and Scrabania. Elum, Abe's mount, does fill this role somewhat, but I twice had him despawn requiring me to reload a save and lose progress, so I'm a little upset with him right now.

The end game also gets absolutely brutal, placing checkpoints far and between sequences that require precise timing and manipulation of enemies. Controls are rarely the issue so much as understanding the order of operations to get through the multiple levels of Rupture Farms, but when everything clicks and you execute on a perfect run, it feels good. The end of Abe's Oddysee has some of the most genuinely tense moment-to-moment gameplay on the system, it is agonizing as it is great. Wait, what do you mean I didn't save enough Modokons? Hold on, why am I being teleported back to the start of Rupture Farms, wait--

While the experience of playing Oddysee can at times be a bit uneven and even frustrating, I do think it comes together into something really special. The texture of the pre-rendered environments, the clay-like quality of the character sprites, the ways in which Rupture's oppressive and hostile factory gives way to barren wastelands drained of resources and life all for the sake of capital, and how that is conveyed humorously both through the game's writing and the player's own machinations... it's great. I really like Abe's Oddysee. 3.5 out of 5 smooches on the cheek for Mr. Lanning, but not 5 because Lorne is apparently never allowed to have a quintology of anything. I don't make the rules.

Idealistic and a semi-transcendentalist piece. Disliked the messaging and weird ideological conception - obviously rife with anti-vanguardist policy, but the conclusion cuts off it's nose to spite the face; fundamentally it re-inscribes the passivity of revolutionary liberalism back onto what it itself acknowledges as a violent process. It feels as if it cannot reckon with tools necessitated in a struggle, and is therefore always in a process of deferring responsibility/violence (both in alterity and futurity, to the other, to the space beyond). Caught in this contradiction - at once acknowledging the revolutionary nature of struggle and denying the struggle of revolution - it becomes a self effacing process; a bloodless revolution, a tenth of capitalism already killed - by what? what wounds were necessitated by such a process? The text cannot interrogate it - mysticising it into an ordinariness of mythical nature, a messianism that has already happened and yet is still to come - by whom? why not you, the nukes at your fingertips? In a certain sense, then, it forgets what cannot be forgotten - that which must be forgot in order for anything novel - the violence of forgetting that must be expelled and held. The ordinary is valourised without ever being encountered, the process left open, undetermined (idealised) and therefore endlessly critical, without any idea of what itself can do.
sorry this is gibberish. i just didn't like this very much.
the art is cute tho ^x^

I'm probably going to repeat a lot of similar points that Larry Davis brought up in his review, so... what he said.

14 years after The Forgotten Sands, Prince of Persia is finally back, and the folks over at Ubisoft Monpellier understood the assignment: crap up good movement and puzzle solving with dreadful combat and an over-reliance on mobs of spongy enemies.

Parrying and punishing is the bread and butter of Sargon's kit, a rhythm you want to maintain to build meter for more devastating abilities, but when you're just trying to get to your next objective or explore some crypt, constantly getting beaned from all sides by low-level goons that have a bafflingly high HP pool gets really annoying. You might think bosses better leverage this system being that they're one-on-one encounters, but most fall into the same rote strategy of playing defensively until they open themselves up for a cinematic counter.

At least one of these bosses actively punishes dynamic play by spamming teleports and parries when the player behaves aggressively, resulting in a fight that requires you sit Sargon in a corner so the boss will fall into a pattern of throwing out the same three attacks, permitting you to plink away at his health at the end of each sequence. I'm pretty sure this isn't an intentional lesson so much as the AI doesn't know how to deal with you remaining still, but I would describe combat as being bizarrely passive despite how much you're given to work with.

The pendulum does eventually swing in the other direction when you gather up enough ingots to upgrade Sargon's weapons, but enemies never quite keep pace with the player's growth, resulting in a game that's entirely too frustrating in the early half and almost comically easy in the second.

And sure, you might argue that a search-action game is all about making the player feel progressively more empowered as they plumb the depths of whatever hostile labyrinth they're trapped in, but almost all the gains Sargon actually makes are bought and paid for with time crystals. In Super Metroid, Samus slowly gains abilities and expands her inventory through exploration. In Symphony of the Night, Alucard can find a variety of capes, armors, and weapons that allows the player to directly build their character. While The Lost Crown's most secluded areas occasionally house a heart container or equipable charm (most of which are borderline useless), they'll more often dead end with 40 crystals and a piece of paper with a full length Backloggd essay written on it -- I ain't reading that, I don't have time! Growth feels far more tied to the economics of the world and what you can afford than it does exploration. Hell, sometimes you'll even go out of your way to reach a secret alcove and find there's nothing at all.

Before I punch out from my shift at the hot take factory, where I work as a foreman to support my factory wife and my 2.5 factory kids, I will say that Lost Crown is a much more enjoyable experience when you decouple yourself from the typical search-action loop of exploring every nook and cranny and instead focus on the main path. There's some genuinely great platforming sequences and puzzles that make good use of Sargon's traversal abilities, and the layout of Mount Qaf is easy to read and navigate your way through thanks to the game setting objective markers and allowing you to photograph areas of interest for quick reference on the map.

The story has its share of contrivances, especially early on, but I did find myself surprisingly invested by the end of the game, and although most characters can be described as "well-meaning but criminally and suicidally stupid," the concept of Mount Qaf existing within a bubble of fractured space and time is enough to carry the narrative whenever the character writing falls short. I really like the idea that every character and NPC is perceiving time differently, some being displaced by decades whereas others are made to exist within a singular moment for eternity.

Lost Crown doesn't stick the landing for me. It gets a lot about the search-action formula wrong, particularly with character growth and incentivizing exploration off the beaten path. The combat is rough and excessive, and sometimes you'll spend ten minutes throwing yourself to a meat grinder trial-and-erroring your way through pattern memorization all for a pair of pants, but there's still something here. Traversal feels good, the visual design is great, and the core loop is satisfying enough to elevate Lost Crown from being a bad game to being perfectly mediocre, maybe even serviceable. In other words, it's a Prince of Persia game.

Gonna buy a shirt that says "I'd rather be playing Touhou Luna Nights."