Really wish the majority of the third act didn't exist. Doesn't quite diminish the sheer intensity and beauty of the world building and the atmosphere it evokes but the overall experience certainly deflates with its blandly visualized final areas (especially following the dynamism of Arcadia, Fort Frolic, and Hephaestus), constant enemy spawns and security bots/turrets and a lack of ammo/health to compensate for the surge in difficulty. One can tell the developers lost a bit of imagination following the iconic twist and it's a shame because this is an otherwise vividly absorbing and horrifying game thanks to the immaculate sound work and environmental design. Awkward combat encounters and bloated third act aside, this is a near masterwork. A game that struggles to find the balance between pleasing FPS fans and those who look for substance but nonetheless a watershed moment for the medium.

A game that recklessly engages with the impossible through pure Spielbergian bombast, embodied as a cacophonous display of constantly moving variables. Unwieldy in its power and scope but undeniably contains some of the most breathtaking visual/aural spectacle ever devoted to the medium. Despite the Emporia section feeling mostly superfluous, this fixes Bioshock's drab third act dilemma and finds creative ways to open up its combat in a manner that feels intuitive and increasingly chaotic (despite some tiring enemy types). Those looking for concrete answers with its flimsy politics or consistency with its maze like plot logic may as well move on because Levine and his team are more fascinated with how these thematic devices feed into the machinations of an indelibly romantic and contemplative blockbuster mold. It feels boundary pushing in every regard and its a shame its reputation has been diminished over the years. For every bit as brutally wonky and ostentatious as it is, it's just as much genuinely poignant with its fixation on gradual world building from beginning to end. For any misgivings I may have right now its pleasures feel like the stuff of dreams.

The most cynical cartoon. For a game so brisk it feels like an eternity to get through. After the promising first hour, introducing the iconic trio of characters with charming banter, the game devolves into an endless barrage of enemy spawns, poorly designed arenas, and clunky gunplay with little respite. The game's attempts of being self-aware about these shortcomings with Nathan's quips come off as flaccid and cowardly. It's in the "platforming" sequences where the game shines the most but even then the intense linearity makes these moments bland and uninspired. Enemy design is lazy at best and vaguely racist at worst. For as lavish as its presentation is, I'm baffled by most the decisions made by the developers here. I can only hope its successors hold up as well as I remembered.

While a marked improvement over its predecessor, this installment still struggles to maintain consistent pacing and that keeps it come achieving greatness. The haphazard structure consists of extravagantly orchestrated set pieces strung together by awkward combat/shooting sections and dull platforming/puzzles. The game is at its best when these otherwise negative attributes are tied intrinsically into the fluidity of a constantly progressing sequence of increasing stakes and ensuing chaos (the Tibetan village siege and the Nepal city portion come to mind). This is where Naughty Dog's "blockbuster" illusion is most seamless. However, the inherent instability all leads to a final act that's disappointing and only highlights the issues listed above. For every downright electrifying moment, punctuated by the game's terrific dialogue and charm of its protagonists (plot itself is nonsense but whatever), is yet another shootout and then another after that and then some yellow bricks to climb and some colors to match to some tile. It's a formula that's steadily easier to predict and subsequently stales even if it might "work" on surface level terms. I sound much more negative on this than I really feel but this gets enough praise as it is.

Side Note: I wish Chloe was better utilized as a side character but I adore her dynamic with Elena so I'll take it.

Lacking in inspiration in almost every aspect, a game that feels perpetually on autopilot. On top of the least responsive gunplay of the series thus far this has a greater emphasis on hand-to-hand combat and somehow feels clunkier than ever. It's hard to muster anymore leeway for the mediocre design choices in these games. It's the same tired formula that the previous two games relied on but here wrapped around a pseudo-serious storyline that attempts a semblance of thematic consistency for these characters and falls flat on its face. Anything worthwhile here is a retread of what Among Thieves does better (outside of the genuinely innovative shipyard/cruise section) and anything fresh otherwise is half assed (considering only half the ND dev team worked on this it makes sense). The game, for all its surface ambitions, is a dull mess. Fleeting pleasures with the ordinarily arresting Naughty Dog presentation, but all in all, exhausting.

Timing is everything. Death here is filtered through as machinery; a natural cog to industrial malevolence. The absence of free will in a dilapidated landscape drives Inside's core mechanics. Like Journey, this game functions best as an immersive and mostly risk-free experience but this one is all the better for that simplicity. Its puzzles are straightforward but the biggest draw for me is just how focused this is on delivering an uncompromisingly stark vision, employing brilliantly ghastly sound work and visceral imagery. I was shocked by how many of these puzzles I instinctively recalled from my last playthrough years ago and that's a credit to just how well the game drives itself into your mind. There's much here that hits you in the gut, and there's no particular logistical reason as to why. It just does. Bodies and spaces, I guess. Yada yada yada.

A game of immeasurable power and relevancy. Undoubtedly something that deserves a sincere reevaluation given our contemporary woes and social unrest. With the luscious visual designs borrowing from Romanticist values and a breathtaking score by Jessica Curry, in ways this feels ahead of its time, achieving an overwhelming sense of isolation through the usual tropes of the "walking sim" genre. It's the massive scope that makes all the difference. What's told here is a richly drawn tapestry of a town populated by complicated people reckoning with complex events; the chief being the apocalypse itself. Or at least the end of "their" world as they know it. This game engages with annihilation as it is happening, and the intimate traumas and regrets and buried revelations that are unearthed when civilized society is pushed to the brink of oblivion. It is an expressively funereal and thunderous experience. My only qualms fall on what was probably time/budget restrictions; the interior designs becoming a bit monotonous and the way some of the areas bleed together can be disarming. Needless to say the game is consistently enthralling, finding various methods of connecting dread and beauty together through its aesthetic and voice talents, entwining them in poetic fashion.

An ethereal dance of light and darkness, cosmic by definition. It's rare to see a game take such a brave yet absolute trek into the unknown. Encompassing feels like the correct word.