tgrfawcett
This review contains spoilers
“Disco Elysium is an extremely unlikely object: a full-length RPG built not by a software company, but by a cultural organization.” Robert Kurvitz, lead designer/lead writer of Disco Elysium, started telling stories in the world of Elysium in his late teenage years for tabletop role-playing games with friends before writing a novel set in the world in ‘05. The novel was a commercial failure, it would be another ten years before Kurvitz began another project to bring the world to life. This backstory serves as the basis to say Kurvitz has been involved in Elysium for a while. That time has allowed care in building Elysium, with a world that feels well lived in by the time we arrive in Revachol in a game that does seem truly unlikely.
Putting a pin momentarily in Disco’s artistic achievements, let's get into the politics. Communism, fascism, and centrism are implemented throughout as tools to communicate the state of Elysium and the place the characters occupy therein. Disco understands that the politics are inherent to being. The world of Elysium is fueled by a history steeped in political conflict. Everything Disco has to say is influenced by socialist roots and critique. Kurvitz and others at ZA/UM offer clear criticism of fascism as a contradictory mass of fools, centrism as a cowardly obstruction to progress, and socialism as a disorganized collective more focused on the theory than the practice. Each group is rightfully critiqued, and quite directly so. These writers get it and they infuse those critiques into the worlds characters.
The communist revolution has long been ended by capitalist invaders who continue to rule even as the cities slip further into decay. Martinaise is a city whose best days are long behind it. Even the central conflict to which the amnesiac police lieutenant, Harrier Du Bois, acts as audience surrogate is steeped in political strife. With the death of a strike breaker our boy Harry is on the case, having drunken himself into a stupor we step in to solve the case. Harry is a fuck up, that much is clear from the jump. Man lost his badge, gun, notebook, and mind in a three-day bender failing to impress upon any character that he has any clue what he is doing. This setup is great. It offers classic RPG paths for players who want to (re)define Harry, while also introducing that this bleak world has a humor sewn in. Harry’s mess is an opportunity for the player to feel free to experiment and oftentimes screw up without fear that it will impact their character's image. Meaning there is option to prove you can jump a gap or be cool without feeling like you are messing up some hero status Harry has obtained prior to you assuming direct control. In nearly every instance this humor is integrated with considerate skill as to never truly undermine the tragedy surrounding you. For as strong as the drama is written in Disco, it was the levity that brings a vast amount of heart to it. Harry can be a goofball and that makes him all the more human. He has had his dark days, with more to come, but in the end, he is just one man and so long as his methods work folks like Kim can respect his intention.
Speaking of intention, player action in Disco is wholly made up of walking around and interacting with people and objects then letting the thoughts in our head influence our understanding of the object, person, or world. It might be too much for you, but far more likely is that the game’s strong writing will carry you through–more on that later. There is some further depth to systems, mostly in the menus, but besides moving skill points around you can expect to find more dialogue here as well. The thought cabinet is a unique addition to the skill point system as it offers a very niche risk/reward system unlike other RPGs. The question of whether a thought will be beneficial to you long term–some that are excellent during the processing time can become albatrosses and vice versa–means you have to take a gamble (or google) to choose what you are dedicating precious space in Harry’s brain to think about. Further unlocking these thoughts, as well as doing general character building, incentivizes exploration and engagement with the worlds and the many checklist assignments you can volunteer for along the way. Harry is all too eager to jump headfirst into solving people’s problems, even those people who don’t think they have problems but really their husband is dead, and you have to break the news. Again, there is a humor built into some very morbid reality that blurs the line between comedy and tragedy in a way not many games are capable of doing well.
Disco is all about focusing on the journey not the destination. I was told this going into the game, but it is damn near irrelevant who killed the strikebreaker. Each piece of the puzzle opens up larger perspectives on the world and its conflicts. Harry, meanwhile, acts as a bystander, often challenging himself (i.e., the player) into forming quick stances on complicated issues. You can stand aside or listen as his internal monologue offers a pantheon of distinct characters trying to put their thumb on the scale for your next dialogue choice. It sounds a bit hammy, but it works, and it works incredibly well. The voice acting alone sells the internal dialogue. Hell all of the voice acting is top notch as well and adds depth on already excellent dialogue. Each character’s voice serves well encapsulating the character from the second you hear them. Cuno’s high pitched delivery tells you quickly this boy will tell you nothing that doesn’t accompany an insult. The Union gang leader, Titus Hardie, has a deep gruff delivery that quickly communicates the wall he is between Harry and the truth of the strikebreaker's death. It is hard to imagine the game without the voice acting, but full voice acting was only added in the Final Cut. These actors really add something substantial to a game like this that is driven by the quality of its writing.
You spend most of the early game learning, along with Harry, the state of the world. An amnesiac allows for very clear excuses for exposition and Disco utilizes this excuse at every opportunity. The writing therein is precise telling the player as much as it can without giving up too much of the mystery. And this goes beyond the main storyline. Some side stories, whether told through multiple encounters or through the ledger (even some cut from the game entirely) have a foreboding that stuck with me long after completing the title. Each scene drives Harry forward as the intrigue builds and releases in fragments. Although the greatest point of conflict comes from a standoff in the town square, I found the slow pace of most other revelations more satisfying as a form of storytelling. Not to say the standoff was without merit, it stands alone as the single moment in the game where the stakes are highest, and the player is under the most pressure to get it right. Regardless, it also stands as the singular moment the game focuses more on combat rather than dialogue. You can talk your way out of this one, but I lacked the character build to do so and had to fight it out. The Union gang got mostly wiped out, while Titus and Kim were saved by two good dice rolls. Even as the final act slows down, the writing remains sharp.
Strictly speaking, the map you are exploring here is small. It is two small areas with a dozen interior spaces between them. Nonetheless, the district of Martinaise like the rest of Elysium feels lived in. It has a history and walking through the streets and houses you get a sense of the decline this place has been through. The scale of Martinaise means you learn its pathways and building well before the credits roll. You learn about the people, their lives, and the relationships they have shared long before you arrived. It allows Martinaise, and by extension all of Revachol, to feel much larger than it is. By the time you have found the Deserter, most of your questions have already been answered through your exploration and consideration of Martinaise. On the Deserter, you only meet him once, but he is just as real as any character in Elysium. He has lost his life to the revolution–as most men would–and all that is left is a bitter defiance. You can expand on his situation by rolling the dice to perceive the Insulindian Phasmid, a stick bug with some ethereal qualities that has had an influence on keeping the Deserter alive and healthy for this long. His fervor fueled by the unreal. When the phasmid departs the Deserter’s will departs with it and he is rendered catatonic. Harry and Kim depart to arrange his arrest, knowing that he cannot muster the strength to flee.
There the game ends, with a suggestion that Harry has been renewed and his partnership with Kim will continue. The destination is simple, almost plain, but something greater is to be said about the revolution that is yet to come. One clear message of Disco is that all of this philosophy and political theater put on by the powerful is little more than kindling waiting to be lit. The sparks of change do not come from one era, but in moments that reshape the dynamics of power for the next era. Like Kentucky Route Zero, Disco Elysium is an exploration of being human in a difficult world. Capitalists brought ruination to Revachol and now its people are left to pick up the pieces. Disco provides a lens for its audience to understand the cause of tragedies, to fight injustice so that tragedy may not happen again, and if all else fails to find humor in this life.
Putting a pin momentarily in Disco’s artistic achievements, let's get into the politics. Communism, fascism, and centrism are implemented throughout as tools to communicate the state of Elysium and the place the characters occupy therein. Disco understands that the politics are inherent to being. The world of Elysium is fueled by a history steeped in political conflict. Everything Disco has to say is influenced by socialist roots and critique. Kurvitz and others at ZA/UM offer clear criticism of fascism as a contradictory mass of fools, centrism as a cowardly obstruction to progress, and socialism as a disorganized collective more focused on the theory than the practice. Each group is rightfully critiqued, and quite directly so. These writers get it and they infuse those critiques into the worlds characters.
The communist revolution has long been ended by capitalist invaders who continue to rule even as the cities slip further into decay. Martinaise is a city whose best days are long behind it. Even the central conflict to which the amnesiac police lieutenant, Harrier Du Bois, acts as audience surrogate is steeped in political strife. With the death of a strike breaker our boy Harry is on the case, having drunken himself into a stupor we step in to solve the case. Harry is a fuck up, that much is clear from the jump. Man lost his badge, gun, notebook, and mind in a three-day bender failing to impress upon any character that he has any clue what he is doing. This setup is great. It offers classic RPG paths for players who want to (re)define Harry, while also introducing that this bleak world has a humor sewn in. Harry’s mess is an opportunity for the player to feel free to experiment and oftentimes screw up without fear that it will impact their character's image. Meaning there is option to prove you can jump a gap or be cool without feeling like you are messing up some hero status Harry has obtained prior to you assuming direct control. In nearly every instance this humor is integrated with considerate skill as to never truly undermine the tragedy surrounding you. For as strong as the drama is written in Disco, it was the levity that brings a vast amount of heart to it. Harry can be a goofball and that makes him all the more human. He has had his dark days, with more to come, but in the end, he is just one man and so long as his methods work folks like Kim can respect his intention.
Speaking of intention, player action in Disco is wholly made up of walking around and interacting with people and objects then letting the thoughts in our head influence our understanding of the object, person, or world. It might be too much for you, but far more likely is that the game’s strong writing will carry you through–more on that later. There is some further depth to systems, mostly in the menus, but besides moving skill points around you can expect to find more dialogue here as well. The thought cabinet is a unique addition to the skill point system as it offers a very niche risk/reward system unlike other RPGs. The question of whether a thought will be beneficial to you long term–some that are excellent during the processing time can become albatrosses and vice versa–means you have to take a gamble (or google) to choose what you are dedicating precious space in Harry’s brain to think about. Further unlocking these thoughts, as well as doing general character building, incentivizes exploration and engagement with the worlds and the many checklist assignments you can volunteer for along the way. Harry is all too eager to jump headfirst into solving people’s problems, even those people who don’t think they have problems but really their husband is dead, and you have to break the news. Again, there is a humor built into some very morbid reality that blurs the line between comedy and tragedy in a way not many games are capable of doing well.
Disco is all about focusing on the journey not the destination. I was told this going into the game, but it is damn near irrelevant who killed the strikebreaker. Each piece of the puzzle opens up larger perspectives on the world and its conflicts. Harry, meanwhile, acts as a bystander, often challenging himself (i.e., the player) into forming quick stances on complicated issues. You can stand aside or listen as his internal monologue offers a pantheon of distinct characters trying to put their thumb on the scale for your next dialogue choice. It sounds a bit hammy, but it works, and it works incredibly well. The voice acting alone sells the internal dialogue. Hell all of the voice acting is top notch as well and adds depth on already excellent dialogue. Each character’s voice serves well encapsulating the character from the second you hear them. Cuno’s high pitched delivery tells you quickly this boy will tell you nothing that doesn’t accompany an insult. The Union gang leader, Titus Hardie, has a deep gruff delivery that quickly communicates the wall he is between Harry and the truth of the strikebreaker's death. It is hard to imagine the game without the voice acting, but full voice acting was only added in the Final Cut. These actors really add something substantial to a game like this that is driven by the quality of its writing.
You spend most of the early game learning, along with Harry, the state of the world. An amnesiac allows for very clear excuses for exposition and Disco utilizes this excuse at every opportunity. The writing therein is precise telling the player as much as it can without giving up too much of the mystery. And this goes beyond the main storyline. Some side stories, whether told through multiple encounters or through the ledger (even some cut from the game entirely) have a foreboding that stuck with me long after completing the title. Each scene drives Harry forward as the intrigue builds and releases in fragments. Although the greatest point of conflict comes from a standoff in the town square, I found the slow pace of most other revelations more satisfying as a form of storytelling. Not to say the standoff was without merit, it stands alone as the single moment in the game where the stakes are highest, and the player is under the most pressure to get it right. Regardless, it also stands as the singular moment the game focuses more on combat rather than dialogue. You can talk your way out of this one, but I lacked the character build to do so and had to fight it out. The Union gang got mostly wiped out, while Titus and Kim were saved by two good dice rolls. Even as the final act slows down, the writing remains sharp.
Strictly speaking, the map you are exploring here is small. It is two small areas with a dozen interior spaces between them. Nonetheless, the district of Martinaise like the rest of Elysium feels lived in. It has a history and walking through the streets and houses you get a sense of the decline this place has been through. The scale of Martinaise means you learn its pathways and building well before the credits roll. You learn about the people, their lives, and the relationships they have shared long before you arrived. It allows Martinaise, and by extension all of Revachol, to feel much larger than it is. By the time you have found the Deserter, most of your questions have already been answered through your exploration and consideration of Martinaise. On the Deserter, you only meet him once, but he is just as real as any character in Elysium. He has lost his life to the revolution–as most men would–and all that is left is a bitter defiance. You can expand on his situation by rolling the dice to perceive the Insulindian Phasmid, a stick bug with some ethereal qualities that has had an influence on keeping the Deserter alive and healthy for this long. His fervor fueled by the unreal. When the phasmid departs the Deserter’s will departs with it and he is rendered catatonic. Harry and Kim depart to arrange his arrest, knowing that he cannot muster the strength to flee.
There the game ends, with a suggestion that Harry has been renewed and his partnership with Kim will continue. The destination is simple, almost plain, but something greater is to be said about the revolution that is yet to come. One clear message of Disco is that all of this philosophy and political theater put on by the powerful is little more than kindling waiting to be lit. The sparks of change do not come from one era, but in moments that reshape the dynamics of power for the next era. Like Kentucky Route Zero, Disco Elysium is an exploration of being human in a difficult world. Capitalists brought ruination to Revachol and now its people are left to pick up the pieces. Disco provides a lens for its audience to understand the cause of tragedies, to fight injustice so that tragedy may not happen again, and if all else fails to find humor in this life.
For the last year since playing this wonderful, wonderful, game there was an absence of words to capture what made it so special. Perhaps it was the way it dealt with humanity, or the little moments of pain and loss, or the way it depicts moral, mental, and financial debts. Maybe it was its fantastic soundtrack with a folksy and otherworldly feel. In the end, I think I have just been overthinking what makes this game so special. Kentucky Route Zero is a game about a delivery to Dogwood Drive, not about where you are going but the journey there.
You are this story's curator piecing together the lines of a play as it is performed live in front of you. There will be times in this story where you control every line of dialogue and times in which you contribute very little. Still, that is but minutiae of the moments. The game at its best will invest you bring you into a moment and let it ruminate. These moments are shared by a disparate group of travelers all heading in the same direction for one reason or another. What begins with Conway and hit old mutt grows into a group of people held together for reasons even they cannot put words to. It seems that while chance encounters brought them together they are bound by loneliness. The relationship they share is not unlike those who stumble thei way into the acquaintanceship of others and eventually become friends, sometimes even family. We all need people, sometimes two people come upon one another at the exact right moment to form a bond. Even if that bond is only for a little while.
The thing Kentucky Route Zero captures best is the little moments of mundanity we all live through. For as ethereal and distant as some elements of Kentucky Route Zero are it remains an honest capturing of life. With its every line and stage action hurtling the player towards a finale less grand than it is bittersweet as much of life often is. These moments string together forming a complex web of stories that define us. These plain moments end up on display for thoughtful reflection, much like residents homes are snapped up and displayed in the games Museum of Dwellings. For characters such as Conway, this can see something as minor as a leg injury come to define his life. We don’t often think about how these little insignificant things come to shape our entire worlds. Still, they do, there is no turning back the clock or answer to the ‘what if’ questions we might ask. We do our best to continue life, waking up getting out of bed and going about our business as if it were the most important thing in the world whether we stop by the barber after work or put it off that one more day.
Kentucky Route Zero is about being set back. For Conway, his injury does more than simply delay the delivery to Dogwood Drive. It sets him onto a path of no return in which medical and moral debt consume him. After years of fighting against alcoholism and trying to keep going, keep pushing for those who he had hurt he gives in. Conway is lost, what is left in the aftermath is a nameless man lost to his own vices, settling for a life unlived. It wasn’t just capitalism that killed Conway, but his own waning resilience in the face of an uncaring monolith. That story is just one of a handful reflecting on American decay. The loss of life and family in the service of greed and labor. For his traveling companion’s loss is not unfamiliar, still, they remain, for a time, resilient against the crashing of a wave against their shore. For a young boy like Ezra, it could be his innocence will remain despite all that he has lost but the world often takes more than it can give. What is to become of him, or the others, is left up to us. We are all just keepers of a flame. If we nurture it, it will grow and keep us warm. If we do not, if we let the waves of life wash it away we too will lose ourselves in the torrent.
Kentucky Route Zero is about moving ahead. In the face of an unrelenting sea, we are then too asked the question, why keep going. Kentucky Route Zero shows us time and time again what we do in the face of loss. Grief too is just a moment in our lives like any other. It fades over time before inevitably returning like an old friend. Like many of its themes, Kentucky Route Zero lays bare grief and trauma. There is loss and death and yet they continue onward. Even in the carnage, some find hope, where something is empty there is an opportunity to fill it. To make it a home for friends and family to come together. Even if for a short time. What comes after that? Well, more mundanity. While one town might be suffering the worst storm in a generation another might be featuring the debut play of an aspiring playwright. The world is rarely this binary but Kentucky Route Zero in all its mysticism allows itself to be as simple or as complex as its messages need it to be.
We often find ourselves adrift in the sea without guidance or purpose. Still, we find our own guidance in time. From simple goals to big dreams were are aided by our friends, family, and even strangers. They help us along the way and eventually we find our own place in the world. Stories such as Kentucky Route Zero are rare in that they capture these elements and distill them so elegantly they stick with us. Even if we cannot put words as to why. I hesitated, trying to find the words to describe Kentucky Route Zero. “The next great piece of classic American literature?” with some grandiose idea of what words could justify the importance of this game. Nonetheless, thinking more about Kentucky Route Zero it stuck with me that there need not be some elaborate story to put to this game. After all, others have certainly captured the spirit of the game better than I could. It is, for a remarkable difficult world, another piece of literature that brings us into its stories if only for a moment to better understand the world and ourselves.
You are this story's curator piecing together the lines of a play as it is performed live in front of you. There will be times in this story where you control every line of dialogue and times in which you contribute very little. Still, that is but minutiae of the moments. The game at its best will invest you bring you into a moment and let it ruminate. These moments are shared by a disparate group of travelers all heading in the same direction for one reason or another. What begins with Conway and hit old mutt grows into a group of people held together for reasons even they cannot put words to. It seems that while chance encounters brought them together they are bound by loneliness. The relationship they share is not unlike those who stumble thei way into the acquaintanceship of others and eventually become friends, sometimes even family. We all need people, sometimes two people come upon one another at the exact right moment to form a bond. Even if that bond is only for a little while.
The thing Kentucky Route Zero captures best is the little moments of mundanity we all live through. For as ethereal and distant as some elements of Kentucky Route Zero are it remains an honest capturing of life. With its every line and stage action hurtling the player towards a finale less grand than it is bittersweet as much of life often is. These moments string together forming a complex web of stories that define us. These plain moments end up on display for thoughtful reflection, much like residents homes are snapped up and displayed in the games Museum of Dwellings. For characters such as Conway, this can see something as minor as a leg injury come to define his life. We don’t often think about how these little insignificant things come to shape our entire worlds. Still, they do, there is no turning back the clock or answer to the ‘what if’ questions we might ask. We do our best to continue life, waking up getting out of bed and going about our business as if it were the most important thing in the world whether we stop by the barber after work or put it off that one more day.
Kentucky Route Zero is about being set back. For Conway, his injury does more than simply delay the delivery to Dogwood Drive. It sets him onto a path of no return in which medical and moral debt consume him. After years of fighting against alcoholism and trying to keep going, keep pushing for those who he had hurt he gives in. Conway is lost, what is left in the aftermath is a nameless man lost to his own vices, settling for a life unlived. It wasn’t just capitalism that killed Conway, but his own waning resilience in the face of an uncaring monolith. That story is just one of a handful reflecting on American decay. The loss of life and family in the service of greed and labor. For his traveling companion’s loss is not unfamiliar, still, they remain, for a time, resilient against the crashing of a wave against their shore. For a young boy like Ezra, it could be his innocence will remain despite all that he has lost but the world often takes more than it can give. What is to become of him, or the others, is left up to us. We are all just keepers of a flame. If we nurture it, it will grow and keep us warm. If we do not, if we let the waves of life wash it away we too will lose ourselves in the torrent.
Kentucky Route Zero is about moving ahead. In the face of an unrelenting sea, we are then too asked the question, why keep going. Kentucky Route Zero shows us time and time again what we do in the face of loss. Grief too is just a moment in our lives like any other. It fades over time before inevitably returning like an old friend. Like many of its themes, Kentucky Route Zero lays bare grief and trauma. There is loss and death and yet they continue onward. Even in the carnage, some find hope, where something is empty there is an opportunity to fill it. To make it a home for friends and family to come together. Even if for a short time. What comes after that? Well, more mundanity. While one town might be suffering the worst storm in a generation another might be featuring the debut play of an aspiring playwright. The world is rarely this binary but Kentucky Route Zero in all its mysticism allows itself to be as simple or as complex as its messages need it to be.
We often find ourselves adrift in the sea without guidance or purpose. Still, we find our own guidance in time. From simple goals to big dreams were are aided by our friends, family, and even strangers. They help us along the way and eventually we find our own place in the world. Stories such as Kentucky Route Zero are rare in that they capture these elements and distill them so elegantly they stick with us. Even if we cannot put words as to why. I hesitated, trying to find the words to describe Kentucky Route Zero. “The next great piece of classic American literature?” with some grandiose idea of what words could justify the importance of this game. Nonetheless, thinking more about Kentucky Route Zero it stuck with me that there need not be some elaborate story to put to this game. After all, others have certainly captured the spirit of the game better than I could. It is, for a remarkable difficult world, another piece of literature that brings us into its stories if only for a moment to better understand the world and ourselves.
The more time I spend thinking about The Last of Us Part II the more I kind of wish it didn’t exist. The first game was such an amazing experience that following it up at all was a task that was bound to come with a few downsides. There are so many things that could be said about this game, from its story to its characters to the game play in and of itself. Most of it has already been said. The game has been at the center of a hurricane of conversation that has seen bad faith actors cripple any meaningful conversation. Still, Part II is a game that deserves attention because it is a good video game. Very good in fact. But, it is also incredibly frustrating.
The game opens with a two-hour recreation of the death of Sarah from the first game. Not literally mind you, just as Sarah was Joel’s heart and soul, it is now Joel’s turn to meet a brutal and bitter end to give Ellie a reason to hate. Joel and Ellie were for better and worse a pair, their relationship was the heart of the first game. Seeing Joel come back from his own loss connected us to him, to Ellie. Compassion is a powerful motivator, it keeps us going and drives us. Joel and Ellie were for better and worse a pair, and their relationship to is at the heart of the second game. Only now Joel isn’t here. With his death, the game brings on itself a void and no revenge story or redemption arc can fill. To some degree, it doesn’t seem Part II was ever interested in filling up that void.
Part II‘s heart is a sour and cynical analysis on the cycle of violence. It is a painful exercise in theming and emotion. At times it can work wonders, like any good story weaving the emotion into the beats of the story with grace. Other times it can feel as though the story is hitting a delicate pin with a sledgehammer. You are made to be a participant in grisly violence as if you are ever given another option than to just stop playing. Still, that being said you don’t really want to turn off the game. It is not for nothing, the game grips the player for a reason. Ellie’s emotional tailspin drags the player in whether they like it or not. For a time you want to get revenge, most players had a connection to Joel and they want to get even with the goons that killed him. You kill them one by one all the while gaining nothing. Ellie at no point stops to consider her actions, even as new side characters, who never get enough attention, continue to call her attention to the loss of life. By the time of the perspective swap between Ellie and Abby the player is exhausted. The chase is too much, the violence too much. Seeing Abby’s perspective sympathizes the player to her. Yet, all the while she is never justified for the death of Joel. The game knows this, Abby is haunted by her actions. This is how they deliver the grander message, that violence achieves nothing. There is no catharsis that comes from death. Abby and Ellie both lose more than they ever gain from the bloodshed of this story. Still, they fight until the bitter end.
In that way, Part II achieves its goals. With as much as this game does right, and wrong, I can’t help but think of what it could have been. For one, Abby’s story is infinitely more interesting than Ellie’s, yet as you play through it you know most of the supporting cast is dead. Lev and Yara breathe new energy into the story, though even they are lacking proper time to develop. This game is trying to do so much at once, that it fails to give any one story its full attention. Is it about Ellie and Joel? No. Is it about Abby and Lev? No. Is it about the conflict between the WLF and the Seraphites? No. Is it about the conflict between Abby and Ellie? Still mostly not. It is a game about the theme of violence, and violence does not tell a story on its own.
At the end of the day, Part II is an excellently crafted game with slick mechanics, enjoyable movement, and flow of combat. It is beautiful and haunting, with performances that deserve immense recognition. Still, it shines brightest when it diverts away from the violence, to tell stories of connection in a broken world. Joel and Ellie’s time in the museum is the best section of the game and it is a fleeting moment of hope in a game so averse to the notion. Although even as wonderful as that scene was I don’t know if they should have ever brought Joel and Ellie back. Their story was done. They could have told a story of Abby without ever seeing those two again. Now, all we are left with is the dichotomous perspective of this world of Ellie and Abby. Both bad people who have done bad things and are deeply scarred by the destruction they have wrought. I can only hope that if this series does go on it can offer more about how we come together, rather than what tears us apart.
The game opens with a two-hour recreation of the death of Sarah from the first game. Not literally mind you, just as Sarah was Joel’s heart and soul, it is now Joel’s turn to meet a brutal and bitter end to give Ellie a reason to hate. Joel and Ellie were for better and worse a pair, their relationship was the heart of the first game. Seeing Joel come back from his own loss connected us to him, to Ellie. Compassion is a powerful motivator, it keeps us going and drives us. Joel and Ellie were for better and worse a pair, and their relationship to is at the heart of the second game. Only now Joel isn’t here. With his death, the game brings on itself a void and no revenge story or redemption arc can fill. To some degree, it doesn’t seem Part II was ever interested in filling up that void.
Part II‘s heart is a sour and cynical analysis on the cycle of violence. It is a painful exercise in theming and emotion. At times it can work wonders, like any good story weaving the emotion into the beats of the story with grace. Other times it can feel as though the story is hitting a delicate pin with a sledgehammer. You are made to be a participant in grisly violence as if you are ever given another option than to just stop playing. Still, that being said you don’t really want to turn off the game. It is not for nothing, the game grips the player for a reason. Ellie’s emotional tailspin drags the player in whether they like it or not. For a time you want to get revenge, most players had a connection to Joel and they want to get even with the goons that killed him. You kill them one by one all the while gaining nothing. Ellie at no point stops to consider her actions, even as new side characters, who never get enough attention, continue to call her attention to the loss of life. By the time of the perspective swap between Ellie and Abby the player is exhausted. The chase is too much, the violence too much. Seeing Abby’s perspective sympathizes the player to her. Yet, all the while she is never justified for the death of Joel. The game knows this, Abby is haunted by her actions. This is how they deliver the grander message, that violence achieves nothing. There is no catharsis that comes from death. Abby and Ellie both lose more than they ever gain from the bloodshed of this story. Still, they fight until the bitter end.
In that way, Part II achieves its goals. With as much as this game does right, and wrong, I can’t help but think of what it could have been. For one, Abby’s story is infinitely more interesting than Ellie’s, yet as you play through it you know most of the supporting cast is dead. Lev and Yara breathe new energy into the story, though even they are lacking proper time to develop. This game is trying to do so much at once, that it fails to give any one story its full attention. Is it about Ellie and Joel? No. Is it about Abby and Lev? No. Is it about the conflict between the WLF and the Seraphites? No. Is it about the conflict between Abby and Ellie? Still mostly not. It is a game about the theme of violence, and violence does not tell a story on its own.
At the end of the day, Part II is an excellently crafted game with slick mechanics, enjoyable movement, and flow of combat. It is beautiful and haunting, with performances that deserve immense recognition. Still, it shines brightest when it diverts away from the violence, to tell stories of connection in a broken world. Joel and Ellie’s time in the museum is the best section of the game and it is a fleeting moment of hope in a game so averse to the notion. Although even as wonderful as that scene was I don’t know if they should have ever brought Joel and Ellie back. Their story was done. They could have told a story of Abby without ever seeing those two again. Now, all we are left with is the dichotomous perspective of this world of Ellie and Abby. Both bad people who have done bad things and are deeply scarred by the destruction they have wrought. I can only hope that if this series does go on it can offer more about how we come together, rather than what tears us apart.
2021
he Artful Escape is a weird one. There is quite a lot about it that feels a bit overdone, you know? It is trying so hard to be high-minded that it might come off as vapid in another title, but here it’s wholly endearing. The game is a bit silly, and it thankfully knows it is. It melds a vibrant art aesthetic with an earnest look at the process of the artist finding their medium. What is particularly delightful about it is that it is a story of people helping you along the way. The cast of characters are as vibrant and strange as the world around them. The celebrity cast is a novelty, but credit where it is due, they don’t just phone it in. Carl Weathers in particular offers a bright light among the cast as a rock star whose light has started to fade by the time we come around. None of the supporting roles are huge parts but each plays a part in transporting star Francis Vendetti across the universe to find himself.
Although not without a sense of cynicism Artful Escape embraces the idea that you can do what you love and be yourself even if it takes you some time to get there. In support of this are the game’s adventure elements. The game is at its best when it is in the dialogue between characters or just Francis choosing what his rock style is going to be. It is at these moments a true adventure game focused entirely on the character and his growth. Alternatively, there are gameplay sections of platforming and rhythm games. Perfectly fine, but not remarkable. They are elevated by visual style but brought down by how plain they otherwise are. The game needed them to vary itself up but doesn’t mean they are entirely helpful. Regardless they don’t drag down the experience. It is a short and sweet little adventure and that should be enough for most. If any rockstar
Although not without a sense of cynicism Artful Escape embraces the idea that you can do what you love and be yourself even if it takes you some time to get there. In support of this are the game’s adventure elements. The game is at its best when it is in the dialogue between characters or just Francis choosing what his rock style is going to be. It is at these moments a true adventure game focused entirely on the character and his growth. Alternatively, there are gameplay sections of platforming and rhythm games. Perfectly fine, but not remarkable. They are elevated by visual style but brought down by how plain they otherwise are. The game needed them to vary itself up but doesn’t mean they are entirely helpful. Regardless they don’t drag down the experience. It is a short and sweet little adventure and that should be enough for most. If any rockstar
2020
There is not much to say on Fall Guys that doesn’t essentially boil down to a celebration of its concept. Growing under the influence of absurdist obstacle course and challenge-based reality shows, Fall Guys is a great concept executed and delivered near perfectly. While the netcode can make some of the games less great, and some of the games are just flawed at the root, most of the games are just fun. I may have never won a single game totally legitimately I had some great fun on Fall Guys. Definitely worth the time invested, hell I wouldn’t mind playing some more and losing some more.
Yakuza: Like a Dragon acts a fresh start for the Yakuza series bringing in a (largely) new cast, a new map, and most importantly a new turn based combat system unlike anything the series has done prior. By and large these are some big risks for a franchise long defined by a brawling combat system and the stoic protagonist it had in Kazuma Kiryu. The combat system alone is a bold experiment, it mostly works out. Having played just a handful of turn based games Like a Dragon‘s is not necessarily the best of them. While it allows you a wisdom in planning out how your team will attack, it more often can make combat drag as you spam area of effect attacks hoping to clear out as many grunts as possible. Beyond that, the lack of free movement and the high miss chance of status attacks can make it feel like the best path is just to mash the same handful of direct attacks and hope for the best. These complaints could easily be rectified with some changes to the system, some are perhaps more necessary changes than others. As a first outing for turn based combat it is a well executed system with all the heavy hits and absurdity you might expect from the series at this point. Some of the attacks are wild and bring a necessary levity to an otherwise monotonous combat flow. At its best the combat was pretty enjoyable, but it was hardly what kept me coming back hour after hour.
Like a Dragon is a long game, certainly the longest in the top half of this list, yet it doesn’t feel it. For every hour you spend in the district of Ijincho helping people, building your relationship with party members, and following the main storyline there is the promise of another heartfelt moment, laugh, or revelation waiting for you. The writing whether it be dramatic or comedic usually hits home. Ichiban gets into some intense conflicts with criminal conspiracies threatening the very fabric of Japan’s government at the same time he is tasked with feeding random passerby’s spicy kimchi to conquer their fears. It is a strange dichotomy but one this series has seemingly been executing on for nearly two decades now. The dramatic main story never feels out of step with the absurd side content, Ryo Aoki’s plans and the dissolution of the Omi Alliance and Tojo Clan are compelling pieces of this game that are comfortable letting you off the hook long enough to fight a big roomba or run a multi-billion yen corporation.
Like a Dragon‘s comfort in being something different is what keeps its appeal strong long after you have realized the best combat is endless AOE attacks. It takes new risks in a series that has long been comfortable with it identity. The result is a compelling JRPG with some wrinkles. Even so, Ichiban is a fresh face, even if he is supposed to be 42 years old. Man is bright eyed and bushy haired for 42 and the game treats him like a kid in a candy store getting to be the new protagonist. That oddity aside, I am excited to see where Ichiban Kasuga goes next as it seems the future of the series is filled with possibility.
Like a Dragon is a long game, certainly the longest in the top half of this list, yet it doesn’t feel it. For every hour you spend in the district of Ijincho helping people, building your relationship with party members, and following the main storyline there is the promise of another heartfelt moment, laugh, or revelation waiting for you. The writing whether it be dramatic or comedic usually hits home. Ichiban gets into some intense conflicts with criminal conspiracies threatening the very fabric of Japan’s government at the same time he is tasked with feeding random passerby’s spicy kimchi to conquer their fears. It is a strange dichotomy but one this series has seemingly been executing on for nearly two decades now. The dramatic main story never feels out of step with the absurd side content, Ryo Aoki’s plans and the dissolution of the Omi Alliance and Tojo Clan are compelling pieces of this game that are comfortable letting you off the hook long enough to fight a big roomba or run a multi-billion yen corporation.
Like a Dragon‘s comfort in being something different is what keeps its appeal strong long after you have realized the best combat is endless AOE attacks. It takes new risks in a series that has long been comfortable with it identity. The result is a compelling JRPG with some wrinkles. Even so, Ichiban is a fresh face, even if he is supposed to be 42 years old. Man is bright eyed and bushy haired for 42 and the game treats him like a kid in a candy store getting to be the new protagonist. That oddity aside, I am excited to see where Ichiban Kasuga goes next as it seems the future of the series is filled with possibility.
2021
An interesting concept on the whole that is just dragged down by a twist so awful it crashed the game.
Update: Went back and got the true ending. It is bad.
Update: Went back and got the true ending. It is bad.
2020
In the last two years I have played a lot of Resident Evil. From the action romps of Resident Evil 5 and 6 to the more subdued Resident Evil 7 and the absolutely thrilling Resident Evil 2 I have seen much of what this series has to offer. With Resident Evil 3‘s remake I continue to see the fantastic structure and horror that I have enjoyed so much in this series. Although it is a bit shorter than last years Resident Evil 2 the game is just as well crafted an experience. Bringing together the horror of Resi 2 with the action brought in later in the series, and you have an excellent high-intensity thriller that sets it apart. Speaking on its strengths there is a clear benefit to returning to Raccoon City. The city is just as amazingly detailed as it was in Resi 2 growing beyond the police station and showing much more of the city before it is blown to hell. Jill Valentine too offers a confident protagonist in a world of uncertainty. With more dimension than many other Resident Evil protagonists Jill’s story is a thrill.
Much like it’s predecessor the game is well designed with rarely with a dull moment or a lag in the story.While some of that may be due to controversial streamlining done in the remake from the original, it remains a rarity in today’s Triple-A space. As games get longer and larger there has been some disappointment with Resident Evil 3 for its shorter length and smaller world. To that I firmly disagree, while it does leave the player wanting more it is better for it. I would rather feel that longing to experience more than feel my time with a game has come to a close long before the credits roll. Nonetheless, this game is not as strong as Resident Evil 2 in the sense that by emphasizing action the tense encounters are made less so. Even with the hulking Nemesis, you are left fearing him less than the brute in a trench coat because you feel more capable than Claire or Leon ever did. Mr. X was terrifying for his size and stability, he was slow and methodical and you couldn’t escape him for long. Nemesis meanwhile appears in blips, fast and strong he can bring a beat down but you often feel more prepared to face him. Even so, Nemesis is not all this game has to offer. It is a painstaking detail and wonderful gameplay leave me wanting more. This is a damn good game, even if it lives in the shadow of its predecessor.
Much like it’s predecessor the game is well designed with rarely with a dull moment or a lag in the story.While some of that may be due to controversial streamlining done in the remake from the original, it remains a rarity in today’s Triple-A space. As games get longer and larger there has been some disappointment with Resident Evil 3 for its shorter length and smaller world. To that I firmly disagree, while it does leave the player wanting more it is better for it. I would rather feel that longing to experience more than feel my time with a game has come to a close long before the credits roll. Nonetheless, this game is not as strong as Resident Evil 2 in the sense that by emphasizing action the tense encounters are made less so. Even with the hulking Nemesis, you are left fearing him less than the brute in a trench coat because you feel more capable than Claire or Leon ever did. Mr. X was terrifying for his size and stability, he was slow and methodical and you couldn’t escape him for long. Nemesis meanwhile appears in blips, fast and strong he can bring a beat down but you often feel more prepared to face him. Even so, Nemesis is not all this game has to offer. It is a painstaking detail and wonderful gameplay leave me wanting more. This is a damn good game, even if it lives in the shadow of its predecessor.
2023
This review contains spoilers
Atomic Heart is not for everyone. The convoluted open world design alone an issue that hampers a good portion of the games pacing and the moment-to-moment fun. Add to that story issues that are difficult to assign to any one point of failure it is difficult to tell someone to just put up with it for twenty hours. Especially if the aesthetic doesn't do something for them.
Luckily, Atomic Heart does strike a few chords on my sensibilities. It wears its influences on its sleeve—at times to degrees of absurdity. (at one point the main character, P-3, outright calls an underwater hub area a “rapture,” absurd but still it’s mostly for the better.) Even so, it still has a distinct enough identity to stand out. The music especially evokes that Russian identity whether it be Tchaikovsky or Russian techno-metal or menu music that is a decent bop in and of itself. The game really does have style to spare. The aesthetics are great and frankly I am a sucker for these alternate histories. The distinct Cold War futurism is absorbing. Outside of its plain (although bright) open world the game has some incredibly stylish areas scattered throughout its runtime.
On the gameplay, the best word for it is simply uneven. Most of the guns feel good, others are worthless. The melee is mainly nice and heavy, or it can be rather clumsy. The testing ground puzzles can be rather interesting, or they can just be nuisances. The minigames can be interesting distractions, or repetitive tedium. The world can be incredibly engrossing, or it can be a slog. The open world especially seems to exist if only to say it has one. All you are doing here is ferrying between the puzzle box testing grounds and a handful of story missions fighting off infinitely regenerating waves of enemies. The game would have benefitted from designing more linear outdoor sections that serve the main narrative. As implemented the open world sections are a distraction from otherwise fine to great puzzle dungeons and story set pieces. It is a watered-down immersive sim. Which in principle is fine, but it does leave room for a consideration of what could have been.
On the narrative you can tell there are some things lost in localization, while others just weren’t there to start with. The core set up is great. An alt-history Soviet Union with a magic element that sets it to be more advanced than our world today is interesting in concept. The designers seem intrigued by this era of their history but lack the full capacity to tackle the complicated matters inherent within the setting. That said, the game does have many strengths in its setting. The game is strong in cementing its worldbuilding and the magic system they’ve whipped up. The various robots as deadly as they are do have plausible reasons for existing in a non-combat scenario. A marvel given how video gamey they are as enemies. Still, as for the narrative goes the game is again, uneven.
The game beats you over the head with the central idea that the collective should hold the power and be free and it is a subset of individuals with wealth or power who ruin it. While it is always nice for anything to tackle these kinds of ideas, here they are at times superficially imposed upon a messy world. What does that message mean in a world where there is an utter lack of care for human life? Bodies line the streets and hallways of this game. You speak to their corpses. Hell, nearly the entire cast of this game is dead by the credits and at no point does it feel like any of them mattered in the grand scheme. In the end it can be hard to be sure that the game really believes in that sentiment of power to the people or whether it is just nostalgia for a Soviet empire that never existed at all.
One final issue with the main plot is that when the game reveals to you that you have been manipulated the entire time by a powerful figure who is driven by selfish desires you’ve seen it coming since the first hour or so. But it still wants that surprise twist, so instead it was not the boss of the facility, Sechenov, but your AI companion, Chariton, who was manipulating you. It’s a decent twist on a base level, but it just doesn’t feel like it fits in with the broad theme. It all boils down to a central fact that to pull off the twist there are several conveniences of characters not doing the thing that would clear them from suspicion for twenty hours. Although, to be honest, it was nice to not have it be Sechenov if only because the main character would be the most oblivious man alive if it were. Chariton personifies the lack of care for human life declaring in a blatant sequel tease that fragile human lives have no value. Instead, they must evolve into immortal blobs of goo like him. It is very dumb.
It is strange though. Even for as messy as the writing is it never bothered me like it has some others. The world is cool, it looks cool, and the game systems work to support you feeling cool playing it. The magic system and world design support the writing even when it is weaker. Hell, for as brash and oddly written as P-3 is, he is oddly relatable. In an Ethan Winters kind of way, he is dropping poor one-liners and expressing self-doubt throughout the narrative. At one point he even expresses that all his bravado is just a cover for the fact that he is in over his head and keeps letting people down. P-3 feels human, even for as fucking odd as he is.
All told, yeah Atomic Heart is a 6 out of 10 masquerading as an 8 out of 10. At least it is for me. This game is not for everyone, but it is for some and that may be enough. The fact that an unknown studio popped out of the blue with a product as competent as this is, well, that’s just impressive. I am hopeful that Mundfish can learn from this game and focus on the things that work for its sequel. If nothing else, they should get the fuck out of Russia and take a stand for what’s right else it sinks them before they ever get out to sea.
Luckily, Atomic Heart does strike a few chords on my sensibilities. It wears its influences on its sleeve—at times to degrees of absurdity. (at one point the main character, P-3, outright calls an underwater hub area a “rapture,” absurd but still it’s mostly for the better.) Even so, it still has a distinct enough identity to stand out. The music especially evokes that Russian identity whether it be Tchaikovsky or Russian techno-metal or menu music that is a decent bop in and of itself. The game really does have style to spare. The aesthetics are great and frankly I am a sucker for these alternate histories. The distinct Cold War futurism is absorbing. Outside of its plain (although bright) open world the game has some incredibly stylish areas scattered throughout its runtime.
On the gameplay, the best word for it is simply uneven. Most of the guns feel good, others are worthless. The melee is mainly nice and heavy, or it can be rather clumsy. The testing ground puzzles can be rather interesting, or they can just be nuisances. The minigames can be interesting distractions, or repetitive tedium. The world can be incredibly engrossing, or it can be a slog. The open world especially seems to exist if only to say it has one. All you are doing here is ferrying between the puzzle box testing grounds and a handful of story missions fighting off infinitely regenerating waves of enemies. The game would have benefitted from designing more linear outdoor sections that serve the main narrative. As implemented the open world sections are a distraction from otherwise fine to great puzzle dungeons and story set pieces. It is a watered-down immersive sim. Which in principle is fine, but it does leave room for a consideration of what could have been.
On the narrative you can tell there are some things lost in localization, while others just weren’t there to start with. The core set up is great. An alt-history Soviet Union with a magic element that sets it to be more advanced than our world today is interesting in concept. The designers seem intrigued by this era of their history but lack the full capacity to tackle the complicated matters inherent within the setting. That said, the game does have many strengths in its setting. The game is strong in cementing its worldbuilding and the magic system they’ve whipped up. The various robots as deadly as they are do have plausible reasons for existing in a non-combat scenario. A marvel given how video gamey they are as enemies. Still, as for the narrative goes the game is again, uneven.
The game beats you over the head with the central idea that the collective should hold the power and be free and it is a subset of individuals with wealth or power who ruin it. While it is always nice for anything to tackle these kinds of ideas, here they are at times superficially imposed upon a messy world. What does that message mean in a world where there is an utter lack of care for human life? Bodies line the streets and hallways of this game. You speak to their corpses. Hell, nearly the entire cast of this game is dead by the credits and at no point does it feel like any of them mattered in the grand scheme. In the end it can be hard to be sure that the game really believes in that sentiment of power to the people or whether it is just nostalgia for a Soviet empire that never existed at all.
One final issue with the main plot is that when the game reveals to you that you have been manipulated the entire time by a powerful figure who is driven by selfish desires you’ve seen it coming since the first hour or so. But it still wants that surprise twist, so instead it was not the boss of the facility, Sechenov, but your AI companion, Chariton, who was manipulating you. It’s a decent twist on a base level, but it just doesn’t feel like it fits in with the broad theme. It all boils down to a central fact that to pull off the twist there are several conveniences of characters not doing the thing that would clear them from suspicion for twenty hours. Although, to be honest, it was nice to not have it be Sechenov if only because the main character would be the most oblivious man alive if it were. Chariton personifies the lack of care for human life declaring in a blatant sequel tease that fragile human lives have no value. Instead, they must evolve into immortal blobs of goo like him. It is very dumb.
It is strange though. Even for as messy as the writing is it never bothered me like it has some others. The world is cool, it looks cool, and the game systems work to support you feeling cool playing it. The magic system and world design support the writing even when it is weaker. Hell, for as brash and oddly written as P-3 is, he is oddly relatable. In an Ethan Winters kind of way, he is dropping poor one-liners and expressing self-doubt throughout the narrative. At one point he even expresses that all his bravado is just a cover for the fact that he is in over his head and keeps letting people down. P-3 feels human, even for as fucking odd as he is.
All told, yeah Atomic Heart is a 6 out of 10 masquerading as an 8 out of 10. At least it is for me. This game is not for everyone, but it is for some and that may be enough. The fact that an unknown studio popped out of the blue with a product as competent as this is, well, that’s just impressive. I am hopeful that Mundfish can learn from this game and focus on the things that work for its sequel. If nothing else, they should get the fuck out of Russia and take a stand for what’s right else it sinks them before they ever get out to sea.
Assassin’s Creed Valhalla is, for better and worse, an echo of what the series has been doing for the past few years. It has the stunning world, (generally) well executed game play design, and nice character moments one might expect from the series. Even so, it is bloated all to hell with an episodic structure that repeats a few too many times with little respect for the end users free time. Starting Valhalla over the Christmas break, it took me the better part of three and a half months to finish in about seventy hours of game time. Seventy hours of which was (almost) nothing but the main quest line. That main quest line sees Eivor traveling from region to region, meeting with a leader in the region, help them with some problem, and gain their trust so they will owe you a favor later on. Some of these regions are genuinely pretty nice stories, others are fluff filling time in a game that doesn’t seem to need any more fluff than it has. By the time you have helped one hapless Englishman out of a jam you aren’t necessarily demanding to help another six.
While I did enjoy the narrative, it remains a shame that Ubisoft is unwilling to take more significant risks with their biggest franchise. When the narrative employs elements of fantasy, history, or anything of real consequence it is thoroughly interesting and gripping. When it has you knocking on village doors for moldy cheese it can feel as though Ubisoft has regressed to doldrums of the first Assassin’s Creed game. These games are as good as their central protagonist, how that protagonist fights and moves of course occupy most of your time, but the journey they take is just as important. Eivor’s journey sees her struggle with the responsibilities of leadership without the title, is interesting, but it can often feel removed from the actual game which is more about delivering content for hours on end. They have the foundation here, they have had it with the last few Assassin’s Creed games as well, but in the end Valhalla struggles to maintain itself over its absurdly long run time.
By the time I got notification I had beat the games main quest (no credit roll unless I spend another twenty hours on fluff), I was content to leave England and Eivor. There is always a lot to like about these games, Valhalla included. Eivor offered a gruff and tumble vision of the viking invasion of a stunning vision of England. So while I did enjoy it, I can’t help but feel that this series needs another reinvention that steps away from epic sagas to tell stronger (smaller) stories. That won’t be happening anytime soon, so for now I will await the next one of these games with some amount of hesitancy. After all, how many more epic sagas can you go on before they begin to stagnate as old rote things.
While I did enjoy the narrative, it remains a shame that Ubisoft is unwilling to take more significant risks with their biggest franchise. When the narrative employs elements of fantasy, history, or anything of real consequence it is thoroughly interesting and gripping. When it has you knocking on village doors for moldy cheese it can feel as though Ubisoft has regressed to doldrums of the first Assassin’s Creed game. These games are as good as their central protagonist, how that protagonist fights and moves of course occupy most of your time, but the journey they take is just as important. Eivor’s journey sees her struggle with the responsibilities of leadership without the title, is interesting, but it can often feel removed from the actual game which is more about delivering content for hours on end. They have the foundation here, they have had it with the last few Assassin’s Creed games as well, but in the end Valhalla struggles to maintain itself over its absurdly long run time.
By the time I got notification I had beat the games main quest (no credit roll unless I spend another twenty hours on fluff), I was content to leave England and Eivor. There is always a lot to like about these games, Valhalla included. Eivor offered a gruff and tumble vision of the viking invasion of a stunning vision of England. So while I did enjoy it, I can’t help but feel that this series needs another reinvention that steps away from epic sagas to tell stronger (smaller) stories. That won’t be happening anytime soon, so for now I will await the next one of these games with some amount of hesitancy. After all, how many more epic sagas can you go on before they begin to stagnate as old rote things.
2021
This review contains spoilers
I am compelled to write about this game, but I have nothing good to say. The game’s central twist–that its protagonist has amnesia and is married to his own sister–was so abysmal even the game could not go on–crashing the game and my brain. For weeks afterwards this game lived rent free in my head as I pondered what in the world its author was thinking. Like a moth to a flame, I compelled myself to push on and witness the true ending which further elaborates that the entire game’s narrative was, in fact, hypnosis. Willem Dafoe hypnotized you into not wanting to have sex with your sister. Excellent work Mr. Dafoe. Lacking a deft hand in its delivery, the game fails to bring the player into its story. Instead, the player must repeat through the same instances of dull conversation through to the multiple instances of domestic violence to obtain the most basic information for puzzle solving. The time looping mechanics are never used in any novel way, simply guiding the player through cycles, fast-forwarding through the same conversations, just to gain one line of dialogue you can use the next time as a gotcha to obtain the next line of dialogue. It is a dull waste of its talent, style, mechanics, and moreover the time it takes to uncover the shockingly bad narrative twists and turns.
2019
While I rarely make much time for rogue-like games, Risk of Rain 2‘s offer of cooperative combat makes it a good fit for late night talks. Without the inherent stress that can come from single-player rogue-like games I found the moment to moment of Risk of Rain 2 a good time. I have no real idea what is going on in the story, if it has a story, but playing the game is fun. The little commando has enough flexibility to make runs fun one after another. All said as you make a run for one of the games endings none of the minutia really matters, you get to spend time with your friends and fight some monsters. What more could you want?
2020
For as much of a change of pace as Ghost of Tsushima is for Sucker Punch Productions, it does little to break the mold of third-person open world games Sony has been publishing the last few years. Every major tent pole of the third-person world is here from skill trees that don’t radically alter how you play the game to map markers as far as the eye can see. With that said, Ghost of Tsushima does have a few key aspects that do well to set it apart.
First, is its absolutely stunning world design. With seemingly endless leaves and flower petals, Tsushima offers players a vision of feudal Japan unlike any other game set in the region. It is just a shame the further north you go, the more the beautiful map becomes increasingly war-torn and muddy. Second, the game features some excellent performances from its central cast. Aside from Daisuke Tsuji’s turn as lead Jin, Lauren Tom’s performance as the vengeful Masako Adachi is a fantastic stand-out. Even when the script is lacking many of these actors elevate the material. Finally, while most of the game play is exactly what you would expect with enemy camps and the like, the one-on-one fights are without a doubt where this game shines the brightest. With all gear and additional abilities stripped away, these fights are direct and dramatic confrontations between two warriors, and more often than not you will get your ass kicked the first go around learning the way the various swordsmen fight. They are a lot of fun, but too few and far between.
In the end, while Ghost of Tsushima is a beautiful, well-acted game it is still a typical open-world game that saw me narrowing my focus so much that by the end it was as linear as I could make it. If you have played Horizon Zero Dawn, Days Gone, or any number of non-exclusive titles you know exactly what you are getting. By the time the third act rolled around the game had simply worn out. Still, at what it does well it does very well.
First, is its absolutely stunning world design. With seemingly endless leaves and flower petals, Tsushima offers players a vision of feudal Japan unlike any other game set in the region. It is just a shame the further north you go, the more the beautiful map becomes increasingly war-torn and muddy. Second, the game features some excellent performances from its central cast. Aside from Daisuke Tsuji’s turn as lead Jin, Lauren Tom’s performance as the vengeful Masako Adachi is a fantastic stand-out. Even when the script is lacking many of these actors elevate the material. Finally, while most of the game play is exactly what you would expect with enemy camps and the like, the one-on-one fights are without a doubt where this game shines the brightest. With all gear and additional abilities stripped away, these fights are direct and dramatic confrontations between two warriors, and more often than not you will get your ass kicked the first go around learning the way the various swordsmen fight. They are a lot of fun, but too few and far between.
In the end, while Ghost of Tsushima is a beautiful, well-acted game it is still a typical open-world game that saw me narrowing my focus so much that by the end it was as linear as I could make it. If you have played Horizon Zero Dawn, Days Gone, or any number of non-exclusive titles you know exactly what you are getting. By the time the third act rolled around the game had simply worn out. Still, at what it does well it does very well.
Telltale went through one of the most dramatic shutdowns I have seen in this industry, it is a wonder that this game was able to see its story finished. I am glad to did as well, Clementine’s story has been a gripping one, even when it hasn’t been told all that well. The Walking Dead games have been as fantastic as they have been stagnant. It is a relief that in their final episodes, after much doubt, that they were the former. Clem is a landmark character and while I am sad to see her go, at least she is as happy as one might be in a world filled with death.
In the summer of 2014, I first had a chance to experience Mafia II. Something about the story of Vito Scaletta as he worked his way up through the mob in the streets of Empire Bay stuck with me. It was a scrappy little game from the Czech Republic with rough edges abound. Nonetheless, it was a delightful experience and it left a lasting desire to eventually, maybe play the original game. Released in 2002 the game had aged out of popular demand and, by and large, became a relic of the past. Even so, some stories have a timeless nature to them and years later the original game was given a true remake.
Mafia is admittedly not a perfect experience, it is a remake of an eighteen-year-old game and it shows. The game is never as smooth as your modern open-world games with clunky movement and aiming throughout. Still, if all remakes held to this level of quality and finesse they may very well all be worth the money. These games have often been maligned for their lack of side content, offering an open world that acts as little more than set dressing for a linear story. That criticism may hold water for some who seek open-world maps filled with busy work, they got theirs with Mafia III, it feels ill-fitting for the series at-large. Mafia, like Mafia II, excels at capturing a time and place. These cities, Lost Heaven especially are a backdrop for wonderful stories to be told. The effort gone into rebuilding Lost Heaven for a new era too reflects a love for literal world-building that not many other games can boast about. Lost Heaven is a city of the 1930s through and through, with an attention to detail so wonderful it is a wonder that you are more often than not speeding past it all in one of the games period-accurate vehicles. But it is more than the streetcars and billboards that sell it.
Lost Heaven more than anything else is defined by the people who live there. The cast of Mafia is made up of classic mob figures who to the credit of the authors and actors of this story never feel truly stereotypical. As Tommy Angelo stumbles into the employment of Don Salieri and works to become a made man of the organization at no point does the story feel too well-trodden. While the rise and fall of Angelo is well established the twists and turns of a nearly eighteen-year-old story are always gripping. Tommy is an interesting protagonist in that this life, it never seems to come easy to him. As the story develops one can see a growing distance between him and the life, he has no inherent thirst for violence so often seen in mob stories. Angelo stands apart even from later series protagonists Scaletta and Lincoln Clay who to varying degrees throw themselves into the life of violence when the moment calls for it.
The story of Mafia is timeless and to see it given a new coat of paint after all this time is a testament to the quality of its original vision when it can hold its own against some of the years biggest hits. These lists are all about personal tastes, and it is pretty clear that Mafia plays to many of my own. From its slick period setting to its streamlined story it was always going to find a place somewhere on this list. Even so, it is a testament to the quality of the game that it is as superb as it is.
Mafia is admittedly not a perfect experience, it is a remake of an eighteen-year-old game and it shows. The game is never as smooth as your modern open-world games with clunky movement and aiming throughout. Still, if all remakes held to this level of quality and finesse they may very well all be worth the money. These games have often been maligned for their lack of side content, offering an open world that acts as little more than set dressing for a linear story. That criticism may hold water for some who seek open-world maps filled with busy work, they got theirs with Mafia III, it feels ill-fitting for the series at-large. Mafia, like Mafia II, excels at capturing a time and place. These cities, Lost Heaven especially are a backdrop for wonderful stories to be told. The effort gone into rebuilding Lost Heaven for a new era too reflects a love for literal world-building that not many other games can boast about. Lost Heaven is a city of the 1930s through and through, with an attention to detail so wonderful it is a wonder that you are more often than not speeding past it all in one of the games period-accurate vehicles. But it is more than the streetcars and billboards that sell it.
Lost Heaven more than anything else is defined by the people who live there. The cast of Mafia is made up of classic mob figures who to the credit of the authors and actors of this story never feel truly stereotypical. As Tommy Angelo stumbles into the employment of Don Salieri and works to become a made man of the organization at no point does the story feel too well-trodden. While the rise and fall of Angelo is well established the twists and turns of a nearly eighteen-year-old story are always gripping. Tommy is an interesting protagonist in that this life, it never seems to come easy to him. As the story develops one can see a growing distance between him and the life, he has no inherent thirst for violence so often seen in mob stories. Angelo stands apart even from later series protagonists Scaletta and Lincoln Clay who to varying degrees throw themselves into the life of violence when the moment calls for it.
The story of Mafia is timeless and to see it given a new coat of paint after all this time is a testament to the quality of its original vision when it can hold its own against some of the years biggest hits. These lists are all about personal tastes, and it is pretty clear that Mafia plays to many of my own. From its slick period setting to its streamlined story it was always going to find a place somewhere on this list. Even so, it is a testament to the quality of the game that it is as superb as it is.