Forgot to review this back in August when I played and thinking back it's easy to see why. It's a perfectly realized and tuned experience that knows exactly what it wants to be and what it's going for. A goofy exercise in cruel irony and societal disruption that doesn't stray beyond surface level theatrics and childish power moves. However for that its existence feels petty and without lasting value. At least for me. Outside of some moments of genuine amusement that I recall I fail to see why its cacophony of noise deserves any retrospective thought beyond the cute meme that it was upon release.

Shame that the music is so beautiful because for something called "flow" it does everything in its power not to do so. I just wanted something to help me relax in between blocks of my Bloodborne replay but this annoyed me more than anything in that game. It's a game that doesn't innately push goals on the player and yet punishes them for not quite being the "alpha organism" that the developers want you to be. Funny seeing many video game critics/reviewers toutedthis as some "art piece" upon release in 2006. Y'all were starving. Anyways, death to motion controls beyond the Wii.

A near masterpiece of queer rage, the haunted binds of domesticity in flux, and the reflexive nature of memory and narration. Its dated simplicity in visual design is more than made up with its eerily effective sound design and heartbreaking vocal performance by Sarah Grayson. Playing this with the commentary highlighted the intricately complex process that something like this requires within its deceptive exteriors. There's much that goes into the narrative misdirection that the exploration leads the player on and it pays off beautifully by the end. This is a game that initially purports conflict and confusion in its voids of spaces but then become a serenely moving tale that finds ghosts in love and love in ghosts; encased as tragic echoes perpetually trapped in winding suburban hallways and fleetingly filled bedrooms.

A few weeks removed and this lingers in my head as something genuinely exhilarating. An earnest and true AAA horror blockbuster if I ever played one. As a morbid collection of grotesqueries this succeeds at patiently doling out its dense if simply designed environments for the player to quickly sift through on top of an effectively satisfying central hub. The narrative moves at a lightning pace, never letting up and it's so pleasing to see the varied facets of horror (European gothic, Italian schlock, industrial body horror, the decay of civilized towns and swamps, etc) explored and dissected. This is as much a clever deconstruction of its respective genre as it is a new "Resident Evil" title and that earns it a lot of respect from me for pulling off a neat balance of the two while remaining wholly accessible. Nothing feels short changed and every location and story beat is gorgeously and meticulously designed to deliver maximum atmosphere. While I feel VII might be the more immersive, absorbing entry this is a more than worthy successor if only for how it continuously expands its mythology and Ethan as a character. The inclusion of the typical RE tropes, while expected, were homely and properly integrated in a fashion that only perpetuates this franchise's knack for giving complete wack finales and wraparounds. I was giddy as hell all throughout this. What it means in its totality is yet to be determined but I adored how well Capcom nailed so much of it.

Certainly not a complete waste of time but nonetheless a chore to get through. Can’t call this outright bad because the chief concept is novel enough and it’s executed with sufficient earnest panache that I found myself pleasantly amused by it at times. The art direction is pretty and the characters and “genies” charming enough to at least get through the story but the second I saw this relied on motion controls I switched that shit to manual and prayed the choppiness of the gameplay let up (which it didn’t lol). This might just be a case of me not being the intended player base however for this being a free PS+ title, I can’t complain too much.

Tarsier Studios continues to showcase a truly captivating talent in environmental and enemy design here and how that feeds into a consuming aesthetic but flounder in their multiple attempts to diversify the gameplay from its predecessor from the shoddy combat mechanics to the continued imprecise platforming and at times even detrimental bugs that hinder progress. These are issues the last one had but it seems to effect this one ten fold considering its loftier ambitions. This plays more like the rough DLCs of the first which also expanded on the simplistic gameplay albeit in bite sized hour long chunks on top of the base two hour game. Little Nightmares II takes about six hours to complete on its own and with each passing section that length is felt. The school and hospital chapters, while conceptually fascinating, are bloated and don't entirely serve the narrative outside of being thin Youtube React fodder. The "trial and error" structure is less so about learning what you are doing wrong than it is just following a needlessly stern script forced upon the player to deliver empty cinematic thrills. That coupled with the constant restarts due to elements inserted for shock value unbeknownst to the player makes for an irritating experience all in all. Little Nightmares II is just empty art despite its three dimensional areas and overtly symbolic characters giving the impression of depth. A lot of shallow window dressing for what? Unfortunately the "trial and error" design philosophy as it is executed here lends itself to a lot of pointless deaths and exceedingly frustrating portions and ultimately loses the intended impact. It is very much more of the same but just more of it and while I support the grotesque vision that this studio offers, its warped twisting of authority figures being as effectively creepy as ever, the overall product just feels cynical and even dated.

A sequel that has more going for it beyond its terrible first impression. Just as if not more janky and unpolished than its predecessor but vastly more interesting on a structural and gameplay level. There's more variety to be found here but the game is (even if mercifully) too short and underdeveloped to truly make an impact beyond a tepid "huh, interesting". While Tormented Fathers fell apart in its final act this has more consistency with its unfolding of the plot, giving the player more of an emotional grip to actually care about anything going on. Unfortunately outside of that Broken Porcelain is a near failure on every other level. Thankfully it's over before it gets too frustrating. It retains the giallo-esque schlock of the previous game and is never boring for that quality but coming to terms with the game's inherent brokenness is a challenge in itself. I'll continue supporting whatever comes from Chris Darril because there is a thread of something great coming if he continues to receive funding. Despite his inability to craft a proper game (and story at that), it's the attempt at something distinct in thematic approach and execution that makes all the difference for someone like me. It's incredibly dumb and probably offensive but pitifully captivating. Sorry lol.

Leon’s lucid nightmare; weaving between masculine power fantasies and crippling, anxious impotence. Is he man enough? I imagine this almost condescendingly patriotic narrative playing out entirely within Leon’s mind. Tilting at windmills and all. While all of these games seem to exist within the confines of nonsensical dream logic, I feel as though this entry’s explicit and almost meta riff on Hollywood action movie cliches and post-9/11 sociopolitical imagery (such as the abandoned prison towards the end eerily resembling the blood stained interiors of Ahu Ghraib) is a bit pointed at Leon’s overall characterization within this franchise. It makes for a fascinating read of the game though it’s not the central draw as to why this is an utter masterpiece; only supplemental layers to an already perfect experience. As a whole, Resident Evil IV feels like a magnum opus of sorts and for its time, a groundbreaking stylistic experiment at that. Aggressively indulgent and visceral to the point of exhaustion but it’s probably the best I’ve ever felt drained from a game. I found myself, just as I did the first time I played this a few years ago, holding my breath for much of my time with Resident Evil IV. Throat dry, hands clammy with building sweat as encroaching hordes near and grotesque creatures pierce the crushing silence with screeches and ghostly whispers while the abrupt pounding soundtrack overlays the background with agitating ferocity. It just rips on a purely sensual level. Front to back, it’s amazing for something that took me just over fourteen hours to complete the amount of iconic moments, set pieces, locations and dialogue that fill up that time consecutively. It never stops. The sheer and constant intensity is part of the deal and I was shocked by how many surprises were kept intact despite being a return visit. Playing this is the equivalent of watching peak Hollywood blockbuster filmmaking and yet it surpasses some of the greatest action films with its emphasis on horrific thrills and fist pumping excitement. Resident Evil IV’s massive success comes with its endlessly confident technical mastery and immaculate polish in its craft at every corner and the complete auteurist control over pacing and tone. Very few games have such alarming preciseness over each and every element like this while feeling completely organic and without pretension. It is first and foremost a claustrophobic shooter and takes great lengths in ensuring it satisfies the player, making no excuses for its inherent silliness and illogical storyline. I don’t know why I ever doubted this over time since my last playthrough. This may not be my favorite RE title but it’s the one that defines Mikami’s legacy as a video game auteur.

A hard game to describe and an even more difficult one to quantify. What started as something I deeply admired as a murky, occasionally moving exploration of capitalism’s inherent stranglehold on middle to lower class Americans slowly transformed into one of the most consuming and gorgeous works of art I’ve experienced in any medium. With each act, the ensemble growing in number and the mystery increasingly folding in on itself through magical surrealist imagery and an ambient rural atmosphere, I found myself less so questioning the meaning of the thematic poignancy behind these elements and just succumbed to the emotional prowess and tenderness on display. Albeit refreshingly nuanced in these expressions of grief, longing, regret, and so on it’s in the game’s pronounced moments where it shines the most and gives levity to the entirety of the narrative. “Too Late to Love You” may be the iconic standout but playing Xanadu, deconstructing the play in “The Entertainment”, discovering the haunted distillery, and listening to voicemail messages on a barge proved just as profound amongst a dozen or so other cherished sequences.

I’m all the more happy I ended up settling in for what would prove to be an overwhelmingly dense masterwork in storytelling and atmosphere because there were times when the straying gameplay tested my attention span with its meandering conversations and cumbersome movements. Even as I write this review my mind spins with the dizzying tangents this game takes the player on; components unique to this medium solely because of its interactivity. It just can’t be done on film or prose alone. The stunning visual compositions and lush soundtrack are only gravy to what Cardboard Computer accomplishes with their rich screenplay and cleverly nuanced direction. It’s all meant to serve a greater purpose that transcends being a “novel” or a “film” or a “play”, let alone a video game. Its potent fluidity between all of them is what makes it the powerful experience that it is and yet it ultimately pitches its tent as a game.

While it spends its first two acts building up a proper narrative and giving the player a decent amount of lore and character backstory to chew on to push them through, after that brief initiation the game becomes an odyssey-like trek into the waking unknown, culminating in what can only be described as Heart of Darkness but make it tranquil space country vibes (with a dash of unease). A purgatorial journey on the Echo River where the mundane stops along the way unknowingly determine the fate of society as these characters know it, leading to an ethereal apocalyptic landscape where God is an overseeing cat and the player a director to this sweeping game of life. Our choices, neither right or wrong, are about providing context to the jinxed voids presented before us. They have their lives and have made their decisions, however exist to be defined by the player. Maybe those words are nonsense to the uninitiated who haven’t played this or maybe I missed the point but it’s how it made me feel right now.

This is a game that demands patience and rewards those willing to take their time with it. It wants to be felt in a spiritual sense rather than intently understood through an intellectual lens and even then to dissect the game’s many literary, cinematic, theatrical, religious, etc influences and references would probably prove just as fulfilling. This is as much a video game about creating and commodifying art and the futile process behind it all as it is one about studying and making sense of it. Some call it Lynchian in that respect but I’m as much inclined to compare it to the films of Terrence Malick; wandering souls attempting to reason with the reality of death and the emotional toll it takes to wrestle with mortality. It’s amazing how despite containing obvious homage to the original Twin Peaks, Kentucky Route Zero is as much a spiritual precursor to what Lynch would do with The Return. So much of what those 18 hours achieves can be found in here in more ways than one. There’s no future conversation about this medium as an artistic form without these five acts and five interludes somewhere within it. I feel as though a decade or two from now we'll still be trying to catch up.

Another Mikami masterpiece. Like what he does with God Hand, The Evil Within and to a minor extent Resident Evil IV, Mikami blows up its respective genre, finding unique manners in which to pay earnest homage to overplayed tropes while subverting them with wacky self-aware humor, innovative cinematic flair, and challenging if at times indulgent gameplay. Vanquish works beautifully as a hilarious satire and mockery of Western third person shooters but stands just as well as a brilliant piece of pulp sci-fi with its nonsensical story, rousing set pieces, and electrifying visual spectacle. It's just gorgeous; zipping through its balletic warzone for six hours made for a surprisingly exciting experience. It feels like the prototype to what Titanfall II would eventually elaborate on with gooey sentimentality and a tighter structure but what Vanquish lacks with looser pacing it makes up for with its almost hypnotic pull. It's a trance-like dance of speeding bullets, pumping testosterone, ardent Russophobia, and endless rocket boosts. Front to back, it never lets up. Verhoeven would be proud.

While the visually muted aesthetic and catchy character ensembles of these games remain as enticingly interesting as ever, this is unfortunately more of the same in basically every regard. Offering increased accessibility in its gameplay than Man of Medan with alerts for button prompts, I had hoped for more diversity and building of its usual formula however outside of slight adjustments such as that there was nothing much else of note. What's left is a rushed, self-important narrative containing jumbled timelines and a complete lack of genuine tension; the jump scares here are a complete joke and it is hard to tell if it's deliberately that way anymore. Any sense of ambition is swiftly choked out by the rigid and predictable structure of the story and for something that takes 4-5 hours to complete it nonetheless feels twice that long. It's everything we have seen before. Front to back like Man of Medan this exudes mediocrity in most aspects. It is a shame they won't just take the extra time to craft a truly fleshed out, imaginative sequel to Until Dawn. What we have now are these third-party seeming, churned out, hack rip offs of their own IP. Over time I do not imagine the novelty turnout for these games will last. Hopefully horror games will have moved on to greener pastures by then.

For something that generally separates itself from the post-PT horror crowd with its inspired amusement park exploration, its a shame that this inevitably falls to those depths with the third act. Although I will say this apes the formula somewhat better than others thanks to its mercifully short runtime even if it completely fumbles the thematic resonance that made PT work, exploiting mental illness and its "warping" effects on the mind for shock value rather than generating empathy. It is rather tasteless entertainment but for the five dollars I spent out of morbid curiosity I can't complain too much. It never bored and though the atrocious lead vocal performance grated me to no end, none of it overtly offended my paper thin standards for modern psychological horror.

While it may not be saying much from what I've played, this is Bloober Team's most accomplished work yet. Still need to play The Medium and Observer but here we see their minor (but nonetheless valid) talent for crafting ravishing and atmospheric environments utilized to maximum effect thanks to their dedication in making the player truly feel lost within this cursed forest. There are moments that unlike anything in both Layers of Fear titles where I felt mildly unsettled, which I'll take at this point. While it builds off of an established IP (the Blair Witch mythology demands to be further explicated apparently), they interestingly explore how the titular witch's influence enables inherent traumas and makes one act on their most morbid impulses. The game feels more Book of Shadows in that way than it does the original classic. It's messy storytelling overall because of Bloober Team's insistent lack of nuance and bludgeoning of capital T themes and in the end doesn't quite stick the punch line to these ideas but at least it has a basic minimal understanding of what constitutes as "psychological horror". Bloober Team is giving me tasty scraps and I guess I ate (mostly in part to the dog tbh), but I feel once they get over their obsession with PT they can deliver something truly idiosyncratic to the horror medium. There are traces of it here beyond the terrible enemy encounters and shoddy dog AI because otherwise, I had fun.