This game taught me the word 'fuck.'

I first played Scarface: The World Is Yours on the PS2 at age 8, and I have memories of shocked guests (except for the one cool uncle who knew the movie) watching this kid play a game that yelled the F-word every 5 seconds. I have never finished this game, and I never will. I've tried a few times (a couple of years after my parents finally took away the PS2 version's disc, I burned this game onto a blank DVD to play it again), but after another day of giving it the old college try, I'm done.

It's incredible how our child selves overlooked flaws because we were just happy to have games to play. I used to think Scarface was a better GTA game than the actual GTAs, because you could go into buildings and have conversations with NPCs on the street and do vehicular combat and piss in trash cans and swim (I wasn't aware San Andreas had swimming).

Playing it as a grown man, I can see how shallow Scarface: The World Is Yours really is. If there was ever an AI-generated video game, this is what it would look like. Most of the aforementioned conversations are just you and an NPC speaking random lines at each other; the missions are repetitive and require grinding of randomly generated sidequests before you get a crumb of story; the world is designed to be faithful to the setting rather than fun to navigate. Almost all back streets have dead ends, and cars can't climb over anything. Forcing the player to stay on the road makes car chases a bore and evading the police a chore.

It's all very faithful to the movie, to a fault. The game quotes the film's classic lines into memehood. Tony Montana feels like a cartoon with Alzheimer's disease as his monologues are lifted wholesale from the film to be re-dubbed here by an impressive soundalike - Al Pacino couldn't reprise his role after one too many cigars.

If you do want to check out this curiosity piece, try the PS2 version. The PC port is bad and buggy. You've probably seen the famous glitch where Tony's head isn't attached to his body if you're playing on anything newer than Windows XP. Sometimes you're forced to restart missions because the vehicle required to do them doesn't spawn. The graphics miss details that were present in the PS2 version, such as Tony's jacket getting soaked with blood as he takes damage. I played this game with a fan-made 'remastered' patch, plus half a dozen other fixes duct-taped together to give the fucking thing controller support and better performance. It still wasn't very good.

There was more effort put into Scarface: The World Is Yours than most licensed games, but it's no Batman: Arkham City. It has a lot to do, but it makes you do it so often it gets tiresome. It hastily rewrites the ending to one of my favourite films, and proves that being in a licensed game is a fate worse than death. I will always be somewhat fond of this game because of the childhood memories, but now the rose-tinted aviator sunglasses are off.

Manolo, choot this piece of chit.

Alan Wake is a very special game for me. Along with the lesser-known Guns, Gore & Cannoli, it's what got me back into video games in 2020 after five 'wilderness years' where I thought I was done with this hobby. It brought me so much joy in a way that simply doesn't come when you're a habitual player. Far be it from me to claim it works for everyone, but I genuinely believe video games cured my depression, and Alan Wake was the game that started this return.

I could not have chosen a better game to get back into the hobby, because even non-gamers would find a lot to appreciate here. Alan Wake has an intriguing story, beautiful graphics and a kick-ass soundtrack. Also, its gameplay isn't very good. So it fulfills all the requirements for a classic survival horror title.

The first two words spoken in this game are 'Stephen King.' Alan Wake is a love letter to the campy, commercial horror that makes up so much of his work. There are shot-for-shot homages to his film adaptations, and the protagonist directly lampshades his knack for turning innocuous objects into horror stories. And just as with some of Stephen King's favourite heroes, the main character is an author. A tweed-suited author, unshaven and unassuming, who can't run three steps without running out of breath. He seems to be have written a story that is coming true, word for word. This gives us such brilliantly meta passages as, "He took out his hip flask when he reached the page that described how he reached the page that made him take out his hip flask." Sam Lake is a great writer himself.

It was an incredible feeling to explore this game's world, and remember how entertaining video games are - I'd forgotten. The chief gameplay gimmick is illumination - in the light you're safe, in the dark they get you. This makes every unlit spot in the game feel like a threat, and street lamps are safe havens. It's tense, and was even more so when I replayed this game because I accidentally selected Hard difficulty without realizing it. The gameplay isn't going to win any awards, however. Alan sucks at cardio, and for a game that heavily advertises Energizer batteries, all it taught me was that they can't even power a dinky torch for 5 seconds. It's a repetitive game, and vestiges of its scrapped open-world design still shine through in the nigh-pointless driving segments.

Yet it still brought me so much joy. The development team might not have known how to make movement feel good, or the gunplay satisfying, but they definitely knew how to create a moment. Fighting off dark demons with the power of heavy metal, fireworks exploding everywhere, is a memory I will treasure forever. Even the small things - the in-game TV programmes, the NPCs in the loony bin and the thermoses you pick up because Alan's body is 75% black coffee - they made me so happy. This re-ignited a video game addiction that has still to subside 4 years later. So thank you, Remedy, and thank you Sam Lake. Now do the face.

This review has been a long time coming. It's been coming since before the site you're reading this on was founded. It's been coming before some of you were even born.

To know about my relationship with Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation, you have to know something about me. I first started this game some 20 years ago, at a time when I couldn't even tie my own shoelaces. In those intervening years, many attempts to beat this game followed. Just off the top of my head, I can remember attempts in 2004, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, 2015 and even in 2017, a time period where I didn't play video games a lot. Yet I always came up short. After reaching the game's halfway point - which was hammered into me by rote - Tomb Raider 4 would always get the best of me. I would give up. I would quit.

In 2020, I decided that I was never going to finish this game, and I skimmed through its ending cutscenes so that I could claim that I had beaten it. But I hadn't beaten it. I was a hack, a fraud, a liar. I was practically a member of Congress.

When I started my marathon of the Tomb Raider series in January of this year, this was the game I was looking forward to most. This was my opportunity to make things right, to make the lie a truth, to beat TR4 for good - for once in my life, to get the best of this game, instead of the other way around. I proudly proclaimed to my friends that I was Captain Ahab and Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation was my white whale. Of course, nobody has actually read Moby Dick, or they'd have pointed out to me that the story ends with the whale dragging Ahab beneath the waves.

Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation was to be Lara Croft's 'final problem.' Like her detective compatriot Sherlock Holmes, the character was so popular that the creator had burned out, and decided to kill them off. This was to be her last adventure, and she was assigned an appropriately epic quest - saving the world from the scourge of Egyptian god and all-around villain Seth, whom she accidentally releases on a routine raid. Her final send-off was intended to be her biggest adventure yet: huge levels, new abilities and ever more impressive graphics were prepared to accompany her into the afterlife.

The first half of Tomb Raider 4 - up to the point I always gave up at - is the best and most definitive classic TR has ever been. With Lara's new abilities and the tightly focused levels, traversing tombs and temples has never been more fun. There's even a prologue episode with a younger Lara, setting up her rivalry with one-time mentor Werner Von Croy. There are breezy exploration segments, smartly designed puzzles, thrilling timed runs and even a few passable combat sections - something the series has always struggled with. Apart from the introduction, the whole game takes in Egypt, and as a young player, I learned a lot about its ancient mythology just from this game. The race between Lara and a Seth-possessed Von Croy over the world's fate promises a thrilling conclusion to our heroine's last huzzah.

Yet it breaks my heart to say this, but the cracks eventually do start to show. The first half's linearity allows its strong points to shine. Once you get to the point where the game has interconnected levels - almost a sort of open world, and start running into rooms that are dead ends, that's where you should swallow your pride and open a walkthrough, because now it's a lot less focused and you'll want to save your time. The second half's location of keys and gates, with nary a context clue as to what you should do next, almost turns it into a point-and-click adventure game. There are a couple of puzzles whose logic has not been figured out even today, 25 years later. There are even more platforming sections that are made just to fuck with the player. Brute force - or a guide - is the only way through. Somewhere during Tomb Raider 3's development, it seems, Core Design lost their mojo for designing skill-based platforming segments that would throw down the gauntlet and challenge players to make use of everything they'd learned - best illustrated in the endgame of Tomb Raider II. Instead, they opted just to create trial-and-error sections with an instant death on every error.

The most glaring flaw, however is that this game clearly ran out of resources in its second half. Despite the apocalyptic events taking place in the story, the environments hardly convey them. A few half-hearted attempts at showing the brewing storm are made, yet the story tells me the clouds have already burst. The final boss is anticlimactic and subdued, and the final cutscene is too rushed to carry any poignancy. It feels more like a cheap cliffhanger than the 21-gun-salute, fireworks-forming-a-union-jack, not-a-dry-eye-in-the-house send-off Lara deserves. Of course we are aware that Eidos bosses found out that Core Design were planning to kill Lara off and screamed at them about it, but all oral histories say it was too late to alter the ending, so why wasn't it made better to begin with?

There isn't even a proper credits screen - after Lara is buried alive, her rival Von Croy (now suddenly back to his usual self) having failed to save her, we are kicked back to the title screen with a staff roll. No stats screen, no 'The End,' and not even a new music track to signal the end of an era - all we get is the same 'danger music' we heard throughout the game's boss encounters (except the final showdown, which lacks gravitas in part because of how awkwardly silent it is). This has to be the worst possible choice for what's supposed to be a downer ending.

This ludonarrative dissonance takes away from the latter half of the game, and I am utterly confident that if The Last Revelation was remade today with its second half done right, it could still be the best Tomb Raider game.

I've read many reviews of TR4 over the years saying that Core Design had gotten lazy with the series, and were pumping games out annually like the new Madden or Call of Duty. I completely disagree. While Tomb Raider 4's latter half does show the hallmarks of money running out during development, of an exhausted development team, and of time constraints, I can't say the developers were lazy with it. The gameplay is the best that classic Tomb Raider has ever been - just compare how many more fan mods were built in the TR4 engine than in any other classic TR. It also looks incredible for its time, and the FMVs are among the best of the era. It's just a pity that in the end, Core Design lacked the resources to make this the farewell it should have been. Not when they had Eidos breathing down their necks.

Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation will always be my favourite classic TR, the one I have the fondest childhood memories of, the one dearest to my heart, but objectively it's not the best one. That title still goes to the original. It was also the last 'good' Tomb Raider game for several years: the next entry, Chronicles, was a collection of B-sides that was hastily cobbled together like the yearly Madden, and Angel of Darkness is remembered as a promising yet half-finished mess. That was the end of Core Design's control over Tomb Raider, and the series was handed over to Crystal Dynamics.

But hey, that gave us the Legend-Anniversary-Underworld trilogy. Sometimes when God closes a door, he does open a window.

God bless Stella and her walkthrough site. Where would we be without that woman?