I didn't like Sonic Mania. This isn't anyone's fault. Tee Lopes absolutely annihilates with an impeccable collection of synth funk bangers. Whitehead and Co's reinterpretation and expansion of the classic Sonic aesthetic and structure is sublime. The bells and whistles of its revivalism are a glorious siren song that, for years, distracted me from the very simple truth that I don't actually like classic Sonic! At all!

As platformers always are for me, it's down to the level design. In my mind, 2D Sonic is very mechanical. What they lack is not so much player agency but player input entirely. I recognise that the level design is quite open on paper. There are secrets, shortcuts, and all the regular shebang, but I can't tell because the games are so visually stuffed. It often feels like I'm smashing the right side wall down until I knock my head on another slideshow button. The game will then briefly play itself for me (this is the fun bit) as Sonic moves at maximum speed until I slam into a concrete wall and die. Then, I have to restart from the previous level because we still haven't recognised the futility of a lives system in platformers after a half-century of their existence. Did I mention I'm really bad at 2D Sonic games? That doesn't help.

The problem is, fundamentally, Sonic (and, by extension, the player) is a non-factor. I don't feel like I'm doing any of the cool stuff as much as the cool stuff is happening to me. The levels are a series of exceptionally overdesigned locks that the spin-dash key opens. Many people find this fun, but to me, it's nothingburger gameplay in service of crackerjack aesthetic design. I do not enjoy being a small-scrunched-up ball of paper tossed around a wind tunnel.

You can take the man out of the Sonic, but you can't take the Sonic out of the man. Penny's Big Breakaway wins and loses all the same battles as Sonic Mania, with one major change. Penny herself has a dazzling moveset, probably the most varied in any of this decade's 3D platformers, and it is a joy to unravel. But that one change is all the change in the world. They also added a third dimension. I am a sucker for the z-axis.

Do not show up for the story. Or restrained visual palettes. Or compelling collectables. Or functional hitboxes and boss fights. Or even really the level design itself, which is far more Sonic Adventure than I'd consider ideal. Show up for the swing into dash into roll bread-and-butter combo that feels like a million bucks. Show up for dropping off a cliff and swinging with such immense momentum at the bottom that you shoot yourself up even higher than you started. Show up for DIY movement tech so impactful that you end up dying by knocking into the other side of invisible walls. Show up for spending an entire level platforming out of bounds because why the fuck not?

This could never be a personal favourite. And that's not even because it's a total mess! I am Mr Mario Galaxy 2. Level design trumps all, and I can confidently say that Whitehead and I are out of sync w/r/t what good platforming level design is. But movement accounts for a hell of a lot. I don't just get to do cool stuff. I have a monopoly on cool stuff. You're doing something right if I'm mentally filing you away on the Super Mario Sunshine shelf.

The speedrun for this is going to whip so insanely hard.

i absolutely love animal well. i was expecting to enjoy it, but really i wasn't prepared for just how magical it feels. the map is incredibly dense, the puzzles are intuitively designed and have a great sense of accomplishment, the boss fights (which i wasn't expecting at all) are actually really creative puzzle fights, which i usually dislike.

my only MAJOR complaint is that it does feel a bit railroaded at times, a lot of areas deliberately prevent you from sequence breaking, which is something i find annoying. but other than that, just a ridiculously good game.

Billy Basso, you beautiful bastard, you did it. How did one guy make this?

I've always been a victim of hyperbole. The internet told me that Animal Well was making people feel things. I listened to YouTube reviewers describe it as a game that reminds you of what gaming is all about. I read tweets calling it an obvious front-runner for GOTY and one of the best, most unique games in a very long time. I'm not about to say those people were speaking disingenuously--I truly believe the 5/5 reviews--but I do think that Animal Well is at its best when its understated and allowed to silently speak for itself.

Not unlike your biological mother, Animal Well is a short, tight, and gorgeous experience that manages to rapidly shift between quaint charm and instinctive terror at the drop of a hat. How Basso managed to jump scare me with a kangaroo that many times is beyond me. A friend described the artstyle as "Neon Wet" and that's probably the best short hand I can give for the game's look without really taking away some of its magic. Just go play the game if the visuals even remotely interest you.

Like all the best horror-adjacent games, your combat options here are extremely limited. Unlike those same horror games, Animal Well takes that lack of offensive capability and uses it to empower you. You are challenged to pause, and contemplate, and plan, and observe--to ask yourself "wait can I do that?" And you usually can. It takes a special game to offer you that sort of reward to meet your effort.

I'm not done with Animal Well. I rolled credits but there's so much game still here (think Fez or Tunic), but I do think I'm at a point where its socially-created hooks aren't as deeply in me. I can sit with it now and enjoy it. That may be how I should have approached the game from the start.

If you plan to play the game, I recommend that you don't go too quickly. Poke around. Mess with things that look out of place and let yourself consider Billy Basso's first game as its own world rather than a "GOTY contender" or "reason to game again." Be a little pensive dude and let yourself get swept up in it all. It's worth that.

A religious, philosophical discussion with cinematography that reminded me of Yorgos Lanthimos. It gets weird at times, but I honestly wish it got a bit weirder. The puzzle design feels quite dated, being somehow both quite simplistic but also frustrating with a lack of feedback at times, but they don't take up too much of the game's short playtime.

I switched the audio language over to Russian early on and really enjoyed the performances. The story had some interesting thoughts, and I never quite felt it becoming pretentious, which is a concern with material like this. A good quick game.

Indika is a very short (~4hrs) walking game filled with puzzles and thought-provoking dialogue. Oh, the brilliant voice acting in this game... I loved the emotions that the 'narrator' put into his work. The ending leaves you hanging with questions in your mind. There are many scenes where you can't get what's happening because it's confusing or because it happens too fast.
I also want to state that I dissected the game and they animated every scene; characters are moving even when you don't see them in cutscenes or in the game. And the demon is also a part of some cutscenes, but you can't see it. They put real effort into this game. It's sad that it was short.
The downsides were pretty much the optimization and some less-polished parts of the game.

The secret behind Pikmin’s success was not that it somehow outclassed classic real-time strategy franchises, but rather that it was never competing with them to begin with. According to Shigeru Miyamoto, he came up with the idea for Pikmin one day when he observed a group of ants carrying leaves together into their nest. Miyamoto then imagined a game focused on cooperation rather than competition; he asked, “Why can’t everyone just move together in the same direction, carrying things as a team?” Nintendo EAD’s design philosophy went along with this line of reasoning, melding design mechanics from different genres to create an entirely new yet familiar experience. As a result, instead of competing against other players in Pikmin akin to classic RTS games, Pikmin forces players to explore and compete with the very environment itself by introducing puzzle-exploration and survival mechanics. It made sense in the end; after all, real-time strategy is concerned with minimizing time spent to get a competitive edge over opponents, and what better way to translate this than to force players to master their understanding over the terrain itself, managing and optimizing the one resource which governs them all?

Perhaps Nintendo’s greatest challenge was figuring out how to translate a genre considered by many to be niche and technical to an intuitive yet layered game, and even more so, translating classic actions from a mouse and keyboard allowing for such complexity to a suite of simplified controls using a gamepad. Coming from the other side as someone who played Starcraft as a kid and didn’t get into Pikmin until recently however, I’m surprised at how well EAD’s tackled this endeavor. Classic RTS games focus upon base-building and resource gathering through the micromanagement of units. Pikmin’s take upon this is to introduce a dichotomy between the player character Captain Olimar, who is incapable of doing anything by himself but can issue commands to the units only he can create by plucking out of the soil, and the Pikmin, who are essentially brainless but represent the units that must do everything. The player as Olimar must be present to figure out exactly how to best traverse and exploit the environment around him (replacing the base-building with management/prioritization puzzles) while the Pikmin provide bodies to construct, move, and attack the world around them. However, the Pikmin’s AI is fairly limited and as a result, Pikmin will sit around helplessly once they finish their actions and often get distracted by nearby objects while moving around, which is where the micromanagement kicks in. Therefore, the player has to decide how to best build up their supply of Pikmin to allocate tasks to surmount bottlenecks while exploring and opening the world, all while working against the limited thirty-day timer throughout the game’s five areas.

A part of me expected to really struggle with the gamepad while playing Pikmin, but the available actions on offer allow for a surprising degree of control despite the simplification. For instance, consider Olimar’s whistle; as a substitute for dragging and clicking to select units on PC, the whistle on the GameCube lets Olimar quickly rally groups of clustered units. Holding down B for longer allows the player to increase the size of the whistle’s AOE, which allows the player to better control and target how many Pikmin to rally in any cluster (hence, the analog of clicking and dragging to select boxes of units on mouse and keyboard). The Swarm command is another interesting translation. The obvious use is to allow Olimar to quickly move nearby Pikmin by directing them with the C-stick versus needing to aim and throw them by positioning and rotating Olimar himself. However, because it can be used to shift the position of Pikmin with respect to Olimar, it can also be used to swap the Pikmin on-deck for throwing (since Olimar will always throw the Pikmin closest to him) without needing to dismiss and re-rally separated Pikmin colors, and most importantly, it allows you to directly control the group of Pikmin following Olimar while moving Olimar himself. This second application allows the player to kite the Pikmin around telegraphed enemy attacks, and properly funnel them so the Pikmin aren’t getting as easily stuck behind walls or falling off ledges/bridges into hazards. That said, noticeable control limitations do exist. Olimar cannot pivot to move the reticle without changing his position with respect to the Pikmin around him, which can make aiming in place annoying if the Pikmin types you need to throw aren’t close enough to be moved next to Olimar with Swarm. Additionally, there is no way for Olimar to simultaneously and directly control multiple separated groups of Pikmin, which does make allocating tasks a bit slower. However, given that the tasks themselves usually don’t necessitate more than one Pikmin type at a time, this limitation is understandable, especially since the sequels would tackle this challenge with more expansive controls and multiple playable characters on the field.

Pikmin’s base model as a result is a fantastic translation of an abstract design philosophy, but I can’t help but wonder if the original could have been pushed further. Don’t misunderstand me: I absolutely take pride in mastering a game by learning all about its inner workings and pushing its mechanics to the limits simply by following a few intuitive genre principles. As such, I wish that the game was a bit harder in order to really force me to squeeze every bit of time from the game’s solid premise. For example, combat is often optional in Pikmin given how many full-grown Bulborbs are found sleeping, but given that most enemies don’t respawn within the next day after killing them and I can bring their carcasses back to base to more than replenish my Pikmin supply, combat is almost always in my favor, especially since certain enemies will spawn more mobs if they aren’t defeated. If circumstances existed where it would be unfavorable to engage (such as losing a significant number of Pikmin every time, or having so little time left that engaging would waste time), then I feel that this would add an additional layer of decision-making of deciding when to sneak past sleeping Bulborbs rather than just wiping out as many foes as I could as soon as possible. In a similar sense, I felt that certain design elements such as the Candypop Buds for switching Pikmin colors were a bit underutilized; outside of one environmental puzzle, I never had to use the Candypop Buds, mainly because I had so many remaining Pikmin and time to never justify their usage. I’ll concede here that Pikmin’s one-day Challenge Mode does at least provide a score attack sandbox where I’m forced to take my Pikmin stock and remaining time into higher consideration, but it’s missing the connectivity of the main story mode where my earlier actions would greatly affect how I planned later days in a run, particularly in making judgement calls on which days to spend at each site and which days I dedicate towards building up my Pikmin numbers versus hauling in ship parts. Regardless, I found myself completing the main game with all parts in just twenty days on my first run with minimal resets, and I’d love to try a harder difficulty mode with a stricter time limit and tougher Pikmin margins to really force me to better conserve my working force and dedicate more time to restocking my supply.

Gripes aside, I’m glad that my friends finally convinced me to try out Pikmin, not just to better appreciate RTS games as a whole but to also gain an appreciation of how different genre mechanics can work in tandem to intuitively convey concepts without spelling everything out to the player. It’s classic Nintendo at their core, and while I had my reservations coming in as a fan of older RTS franchises, they’ve managed to convince me once again that the best hook is not simply offering something that’s visibly better, but rather offering something that’s visibly different. I still think that there’s improvement to be had, but given how much I’ve enjoyed the first game, I can’t wait to see what they have to offer from iterating upon their memorable beginnings.

I can't think of the last time I played a game where I mulled over its themes like this one. I do this all the time for great movies (I did this for The Zone of Interest a couple of months ago), but I don't think I've seen a story come out of a game that fully utilized its medium and was so artistically unique, quite like this one. It throws a LOT at the wall, and while not all of it sticks gameplay-wise, I still recommend people try this out. It's short (almost too short), cheap, and it'll gnaw at your brain hours after beating it.

Don't mistake me. This is a HIGH 7, and don't be surprised if it's bumped up by the end of the year, as I can only see myself appreciating this game more from here.

Has anyone who worked on this game ever actually walked on wooden floors before?? Every time these hulking masses of man meat entered a busted-up domestic structure, the foley of their boots stomping on hardwood completely dominated our entire living room as if it was a "bass boosted" YTP from days gone by. Floors don't sound like war drums, guys!

Anyhow uhhhhhhh pretty good co-op experience! The reload timing is cool, reviving is a nice alternative to respawning, campaign length is nice and tight, and I like way those deep voice enemies say "BOOM". Besides having Bongo Bongo from Ocarina of Time do the footstep sound design, my only real complaint is how frequently you reach a door, have a need to go through that door, and then have to wait for the door to be opened for you. I'm 500 pounds of surly beefcake and jagged metal, just let me through already!

Oh and I constantly forgot that Jack existed, it's like I had no object permanence for that weird little robot

It is a miracle that I got to finish this brilliant game, and now people can stop bullying me because I haven't played it before.

My rating criteria for this game are games released in 2010 and prior. 
I had so many technical difficulties. Even by the standards of that time, this game has so many bugs that softlock you, tons of crashes, and buggy graphics settings. Also, controls got bugged, and I couldn't press the ESC key at all. I had to Alt-Tab every time to pause the game. These technical problems made me finish the game in a week, in about 25 sessions.

However, the story was intriguing, and the horror elements were used in such an amazing way that I got scared of my own shadow multiple times. The library part was made because they hate us players and they want us to have a heart attack. Plus. I liked the funny Ulman jokes.

Oh, the ending was also crazy! Here is footage of me during the ending!