A doubling down on the ideology on display in the initial Sonic the Hedgehog. Now with refinements based on lessons learned from the original’s shortcomings. Gone are the antithesis zones such as Marble Zone, yet the variety of stages is still placed into the spotlight by simply breaking each zone into two parts instead of the original three-parters. The game is concise and direct, probably the most focused Sonic experience throughout the entire series.

Just as the others in the trilogy, there is an emphasis on the gameplay mechanics and everything else the game offers flows naturally from that point. A joy in the movement of Sonic, further improved by the plaything mechanic of the spin dash. Mashing the charge button to get Sonic to fly across the screen is the game-equivalent of winding up an automaton toy car and watching it zip across your living room floor. An emphasis on the momentum of Sonic, and allowing that movement to influence the subsequent level design is what has largely been missing from Sonic games in the years since Sonic 3 and Knuckles. The music is just icing on this cake. Pull up the Sky Chase Zone music, sit with it for a bit. If that isn’t an enticing tease for you, then you must be Nick Chopper.

On paper, 007 Legends sounds like the perfect concept. Using a period of unconsciousness that functioned as a break for title credits in a film, a game's worth of story is presented to the player as though it were 007’s life flashing before his eyes. This simple conceit allows for a game that briefly touches on a handful of standout moments throughout the entire Bond franchise.

As a person that grew up in a home where James Bond was an embarrassingly large portion of our re-playable film rotation, the proposition of ‘The Best of Bond, James Bond’ sounded irresistible to my ears. Looking at the films touched upon, it became apparent that the developers wanted to give each different Bond actor a time to shine with respect to the franchise’s history. My personal favorite Bond film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, mostly remembered as ‘the one with that one-time James Bond actor,’ would finally be getting the recognition that had until now escaped it.

Jumping into the game, it quickly became apparent that the novelty of the broad concept was the only redeeming factor. If you don’t come to the game with a prior adoration or nostalgia for these films, there isn’t much to keep you invested.

There are a few things that must be reckoned with. First, the game quickly lets the player know that it has a formula, and it will not be deviating from it. Each film is broken down into a loop that consists of entering the facility, finding the villain’s lair, investigating briefly, getting out of there. The game makes you do this five times, once for each film touched upon, and then it is over. Any sort of variety really feels like window dressing that doesn’t meaningfully distinguish each film from one another. To further detract from any attempt to distinguish these experiences, the game used Daniel Craig’s likeness for each separate era of the series, the same gadgets are available to you throughout each segment, and the weapons stay the same. One caveat to all of this is the final Moonraker segment, which feels like a breath of fresh air at the final moments of the game, but even that stage is ultimately bogged down by the chunky mechanics persistent throughout the entirety of the 007 Legends experience. By the end, it is clear that what was meant to stand as a testament to fifty years of quality entertainment instead operates as a suggestion that maybe you’ve been watching the same movie in different clothes over and over for the past fifty years. If instead, they embraced the differences of these films, whether it be showcasing each era, styles in clothing, different Bond actors, or different weaponry and technology; it may have felt more like a celebration than an obligation.

Okay, so the story is presented poorly, and the levels blend together. Maybe the game-play could still entice someone to press on. Unfortunately, this too falls short of a compelling experience. The game is clearly a product of its time, presenting a James Bond story within what is essentially a Call of Duty clone. This is not necessarily a bad thing on its own. Call of Duty games have earned their reputation for a reason. Great sound work, careful weapon design that focuses on weaponry that feels good to operate, and some levels that break out of the typical first person presentation to allow the game to feel fresh as it progresses. Here, again, the execution in 007 Legends falls flat. The gun-play is not satisfactory, a lot of the enemies feel like bullet sponges, the weapons simply don’t feel good to use. An added perplexity is presented in the weapon modification system, that allows you to buy ‘upgrades’ that fail to distinguish your arsenal from that which you may find abandoned on the ground. The Q-Branch gadgetry also feels unnecessary and is generally unpleasant to interact with. The odd exception is a spy-pen that is somehow more powerful than any of the other weapons throughout the entire game.

Another bit worth noting are the segments that attempt to break the mold, whether it be the vehicle segments, a skiing segment, or the boss encounters. Each serves to underscore the poor execution of concept, and further distances the player from experiencing life as the titular character, a suave intellectual that always emerges unscathed despite the most impossible of circumstances. The clearest example of these failures at work are in the boss encounters. It is clear that the designers were uncertain how to present a ‘boss’ in a satisfying way. Each of the boss fights are presented through a QTE-esque fist fight that follows the same progression. Through matching your joystick placement with the one displayed on screen, James Bond engages in a fist fight with each villain. After a few punches are exchanged, the villain will appear to be losing. The villain will then pick up a blunt object. Through your matching exercise, James Bond will disarm the villain, and then continue to punch them until their health bar is depleted. This same boss encounter is consistent throughout each level and is only distinguishable by the character you are looking at as you complete the matching exercise.

In the end, as a fan I must say I was very disappointed in this game. Now that I’m done with the experience, I can only help but wonder how this game would hold up for someone with no prior attachment. Without any interest in references to the films, I can’t see a person lasting beyond a level or two. Even as a die-hard, I can’t help but feel I wasted my time. Now as I’m sitting here writing this, I’m also realizing that the game fails to revisit the opening concept: James Bond, unconscious, reliving these memories. Instead of suggesting that something was learned as he comes out of his unconscious state, the game simply ends and we never even learn if he awakens again. This lack of consideration for even the most basic of narrative considerations speaks to the inattention on display throughout 007 Legends.

As I reflect on James Bond as a character, and consider the characteristics that have lead to his status as a cultural icon. I realize that the James Bond contained within 007 Legends fails to capture almost any of the appealing aspects of one of the longest running film franchises of all time. It's honestly impressive.

Before diving into the world of Control, I tried to avoid reviews and comments on the game as much as possible. I knew Control had received a ton of accolades, and I was also aware of the broad strokes: a mash-up of Twin Peaks, Lost, and X-Files, wrapped around a third-person shooter/puzzler. My initial thought was, “sign me up.”

Sitting a couple hours deep, I began to feel my contrarian tendencies boiling up. The game felt sluggish to control, the visuals just felt a bit off, and I could really only describe my experience to that point as flat. Luckily, someone suggested that I switch my PS5 from the graphics mode to performance. Like a driver stepping out of an Audi A3 to get behind the wheel of an Audi RS3, I was reinvigorated. Changing to 60fps completely transformed the feel of the game. It’s the first time I’ve ever been aware of such a notable change in game-play and its effects on my enjoyment.

Refreshed and determined to see the mission through, I continued to push deeper into ‘The Oldest House’ to see whether there was actually a great game hidden hours in. By the time it was over, I could say that although it had grown on me, I was not left completely satisfied.

As you progress, you amass a wider range of powers. Each power unlocked makes the combat more varied and compelling, but unfortunately you won’t fully appreciate the mechanics of these battles until you are well into the final stretch of the game. Once the game resolves, you have finally seen the combat click into place in a satisfying way, but sadly at that point you are only left with whatever endgame and DLC you choose to explore.

As high as it may appear I am on the fighting by the end, I still wish there had been some more variety in how the various enemies were designed. After hours fighting the same 5 or 6 things, they started to blend together and feel indistinguishable. Some could fly, some could warp, but they all looked like one another. Additionally, the checkpoint system felt pretty archaic. There were a handful of times where I accomplished my main task, and accidentally died soon after. Oddly enough my death would be rewarded, the previous checkpoint so distant that I would accidentally leapfrog a portion of the challenge.

With regards to the story, there is an impressive level of ‘collectibles,’ paperwork, tapes, and the like--all contributing to the larger mood of the game. Unfortunately, if you’re like me and constantly fear that you’re missing vital story beats contained within an obscure invoice or note, you’ll get easily bogged down by the overwhelming level of detail here. Perhaps the game could have better flagged what was essential reading, or introduced some voice-over work to allow you to review the contents while continuing on with your mission. Maybe this criticism says more about me than the game itself.

The story also relies in part on various mixed media/video pieces that are both well executed and entertaining. They often lighten the mood of an otherwise dreary setting. When the game presents the story through it’s character models interacting with one another, the segments feel somewhat wooden and often pull away from any immersion the game otherwise succeeds in.

All this is to say, I suppose I was ultimately underwhelmed by Control. There were aspects that I really enjoyed, but it was clear that there was plenty of room for improvement. If you told me a sequel was on the horizon, I would be interested yet again, but I hope that they would build upon the frame of a good game they have here.

Man, just ran through this again, and as always Marble Zone is a slog, but the rest of this thing is really special. Now I get to have the Starlight Zone music stuck in my head for the rest of the day, which is absolutely worth it.

Is it the best Sonic game? No, that would be Sonic 2. Still, this one is a great launching pad for the series. I could spend more time talking about how interesting the level design is with varying paths to take, or how the slide-y momentum physics make this an interesting counter (or complement) to Super Mario Brothers. Instead, I'll just say--play this game--and go about my day humming Starlight Zone.

An odd title to review, in part because two very different titles have been packaged together. Super Mario 3D World, a remaster, retains all that made the original one of the few ‘must-own’ titles in the Wii-U era.

Not satisfied with simply making that same game available to a new audience, Nintendo issued a handful of small tweaks that actually improve upon the 3D World as presented in 2013. Most notably, the speed of the game has increased. It is almost unnoticeable unless you have the two releases side-by-side, but it makes a large difference in how the player perceives the challenges that face them. The Wii-U version was a bit of a ‘hang-out’ game for single players, with each additional player more chaos was introduced. The 2013 version thrived on the chaos it could produce, but still provided a traditional Mario experience complete with masterclass level design for those that were willing to take on the game alone. With the slight speed tweak, some of that chaos--perhaps lost on some 2013 players--is now available to people playing by their lonesome. An impact of this, is that the multiplayer now feels like the secondary experience instead of the primary one. Regardless, either way you slice it, 2021 or 2013, Super Mario 3D World is a must for platforming fans. The game harkens back to some of Mario’s greatest moments, to me Super Mario Bros. 3, and continues to mix-up its mechanics in a satisfying manner as the game progresses.

Moving to the more interesting addition here, it is fair to say Bowser’s Fury is overrated. That is not to say it isn’t yet another essential Mario title, it absolutely is. Yet, the discourse around the game has been overwhelmingly positive, where I fear some will be met with a tinge of disappointment expecting this to be ‘the’ premier Mario title.

Let’s talk about those negatives. The game is fairly short. I’m not one to criticize length alone, but coupled with some faint feelings of repetitiveness, the length is worth spending some time on. The game can be beat in two or three sittings, and during that time you will encounter a similar Bowser encounter around seven to ten times. Further, as is typical in Mario games, there are plenty of ‘collect them all’ challenges sprinkled throughout the game. In longer Mario entries, the collection segments allow the game to showcase some of the finer details each level, but here, where the experience never takes a real moment to breathe, moments where the game chooses to not-iterate begin to feel like unnecessary padding. Finally, the movement is clearly adapted from a non-full range 3D title, and you feel that at times. Sometimes the camera doesn’t keep up with your pace, at other times you miss a triple jump or other fluid movements that other Mario games are so well known for. Again, these are all minor negatives, that fail to hold this back from being an essential Mario entry.

The biggest positives have been stated better elsewhere, but in sum, the game is frictionless. Never before have you felt so free to move where you want, and how you want, through the entire space of the game. The reverence towards the game is largely well earned, and this ability to capture the concept of an open-world platformer so well is a main reason for it. The game is essentially bottled joy: gameplay, level design, music; all in harmony with one another. For the most part, the game continues to innovate and push itself forward through its final act.

Maybe Bowser’s Fury is the Charles Barkley of the Mario series: a model of perfection, but for a flawed tendency to hoist up bricks from beyond the arc. At the end of the day, Bowser’s Fury is high tier Mario, but it still has it’s minor quirks.

Simple ingredients: attractive colors, memorable music, and an irresistible mechanic. Simplicity transformed into a universe that equates to a fun hang out. Docility that thrusts the imagination into the unknown. Get a grip on the task at hand. Allow the novelty of the quirks to wash through you. Only then, may you start to reflect on the underlying message of Katamari Damacy.

Unlike the straightforward presentation of ‘play,’ the ‘narrative’ here is presented indirectly. As a result, Katamari Damacy’s higher purpose is ultimately defined within the mind of the player. Those seeking to define every experience may argue that the game is a criticism of consumerism. As you press to roll up as many things as possible you attempt to--and ultimately fail at--impressing your father. Others may opine that Katamari Damacy serves as a metaphor for our lifecycle. An ashes to ashes, dust to dust message juxtaposed by the comical task of hoarding physical mass to create a celestial form. Disciples under William of Ockham will toss these interpretations aside, and instead appreciate the culmination of a design strategy that chose to focus on a snowball roll mechanic, faced a challenge of making this not feel like a day job, and dislodged some personal interests in an attempt to offer some sense of progression and purpose for the player. By the time the credits have rolled, you may realize that parsing out any philosophical undertone is as sisyphean a task as rolling a katamari to please elders.

As my credits presented themselves, memories surfaced from my highschool freshman year. Waiting at EBX until ‘The Girl Next Door’ was set to begin at the mall theater. I stood there effectively twiddling my thumbs, and reflected still further into the past. Presenting as my even younger self, at that same EBX, observing my best friend trading in his impressive Playstation 1 collection, and with it, years of memories between us. The purpose of that trade was to afford the Xbox, a copy of Halo: Combat Evolved, and a few controllers. The cost was our shared experience.

Conservation at odds with creation.

Again at EBX, awaiting ‘The Girl Next Door,’ chatting up a clerk regarding Halo 2 rumors, another game caught my eye. Near the back of the store, a child enraptured at the PS2 kiosk, the game displayed was Katamari Damacy. Colors that demanded attention. Unfortunately, the sound was off. I thought to myself: what an odd looking game for children. Too occupied with the thought that I was too cool for such endeavors, I let Katamari Damacy pass me by. My life went on, absolutely Katamari-less and sometimes joyless. I did eventually get a chance to check out Halo 2, Halo 3, and beyond; but over fifteen years passed before Katamari Damacy crossed my path again.

I have now completed the game, yet I reflect back on that child at EBX. What joys did Katamari bring him at such a young age, did he end up buying the game, did he even own his own Playstation 2? I dwell on that missed opportunity. I wasted so many of my prime gaming years on first person shooters, was such destiny sealed that afternoon? It’s probably healthier to not dwell on that moment, and just be happy with life as it was served for me. Now in my 30s I was able to enjoy Katamari Damacy with completely fresh eyes. Any ‘opinions’ and ‘preferences’ long developed. I soaked Katamari Damacy in, feeling a joy not often afforded me. Maybe such fleeting joy would have passed me by without note in my younger years, but now it is cherishable.

If able, take in Katamari Damacy when you can, you should be so lucky.

I typically hunker down after beating a game and get my thoughts down immediately. Upon completing Kentucky Route Zero, I sat at my computer and just could not figure out the appropriate way to confront my experiences with the game.

Given its text adventure nature, it lends itself to a literary deconstruction. Yet, that approach poses some difficulties. Either address the broad strokes of the game--the degeneration of ‘The American Dream’ and the consequences that flow from it--or discuss the introspection that the game invites through a narrative decision-making structure that puts the player in the driver's seat for the games slighter moments of insight. Ultimately, this form of analysis is better suited for a discussion involving ‘spoilers’ where all interested parties have at least attempted a complete run of the game.

Another approach would be to engage in a discussion of the mechanics at work throughout. Such dialog would undoubtedly be complementary to the developers ability to couch what is essentially a novella inside the framework of a video game. Mixing up mechanics effortlessly just before the player might think: wait, am I just reading a book? Again, this type of breakdown is unsatisfactory. It brushes past the soul at the core of this game and instead focuses on the lifeless skeleton that accompanies it.

It’s a game that invites discussions not typical of the titles it was inspired by. It may end up influencing storytelling in games in ways that draw comparisons to Super Mario 64’s inspiration on the 3D games that followed it. In the end, I suppose I’ve simply come to realize that I don’t quite have the chops to do Kentucky Route Zero justice. If you’ve ever put a book down after finishing it and thought, man I could go for another one of those, then I suggest you at least give this game a shot. You’ll be glad you did.

I suppose I'll start with the negative, the game at times suffers from linearity. Especially for a title that expects you to occasionally turn in your badge and gun to start effectively from scratch at the beginning of the line. Also, although befitting the overall story of the game, the art style is fairly dark and feels like you're fumbling your way through a poorly lit warehouse for the majority of your 20+ hour excursion.

Those shortcomings can be forgiven as the package as a whole remains fairly compelling. The story is simple, you are a grunt in a force tasked with maintaining the status quo. You and a partner take on a transport mission that goes awry. From that mistake, you learn that the system you've been fighting for is actually not what it had seemed to be. Because of this you realign your goals with a rogue revolutionary as she tries to liberate a humanoid science experiment against all odds.

This story is wrapped in a handful of interesting play mechanics, an odd save system that allows you to carry stats through restarts, an battle system that lacks random encounters and instead lets you bait and trap opponents before encountering them, and the dragon counter.

The dragon counter is simple enough on paper. Each time you use a special ability (i.e. overpowered), the counter goes up. If the counter fills, your game ends. As that counter sits with you constantly on the screen through your entire play-through it becomes a silent omnipresent entity that ultimately will define your entire experience. For myself--a player that is overly cautious with the tools at my disposal--it was a badge of pride to keep it low at all costs, yet later the d-counter became a source of embarrassment as I had to lean on those powers with more occasion.

The game is filled with plenty of these small little intricacies that feel unique to the title even almost 20 years after its release. If you're an RPG fan it would be hard to not recommend this as a must play if only to explore the boundary pushing that was on display here.

A bit out of character for me, but I gave up on this game after about five hours. Although I commend Nintendo for trying to branch the Pikmin franchise into a different genre, there really didn't seem to be any unique ideas that Pikmin brought over to platforming. Maybe if I did a little research I could prove the following wrong, but I feel like this game might be Nintendo’s creative floor.

At times, it felt like I was playing a new iteration of Yoshi’s Island, but don’t read that as a compliment, quite the opposite actually. Where Yoshi’s Island gives you a charming and relaxed romp through various worlds, Hey! Pikmin just doubles down on relaxation to the point where the player is at times subdued.

The player is never placed in a situation with any stakes. The largest levels of decision making equate to should I take this detour to get more collectables or should I just keep moving towards the end of the stage. Though there are different Pikmin with different uses, the game limits which Pikmin you have access to, so you are never thinking about any unique applications of the tools at your disposal. All of this could magically change after the point where I stopped, but after five hours of droning onwards without joy it was clear the game wasn’t respecting my time.

If you’re looking for a chance to solve puzzles, apply critical thinking skills, or simply register brain activity on a fMRI; you may want to look elsewhere. If you’re looking for a way to unwind just before bed or a game to autopilot while watching a program, then maybe Hey! Pikmin is right up your alley.

I adored this game for what it was. It can be beaten in one sitting, which I imagine to be the biggest criticism of the game. Yet, if you view it from the lens of an interactive music video or a visual album, the short run time starts to feel more appropriate. The music is superb, but if you don’t find yourself enjoying the music then the package as a whole starts to fall apart.

If I were looking for reasons to lower my score I would note that it tends to lean so heavily into its style that the game can become unnecessarily difficult as a result. This is very clear in your first playthrough where you can really beat the levels without actually understanding where you’re supposed to be moving your character or how to interact with the different systems it throws at you. Another very minor knock is how it presents the levels to you on your first playthrough. It kicks you out to a level select screen after every completion, but then after you beat the game gives you the ability to take on the whole game in one go. I would have skipped the level select until you’ve beaten it once, and instead introduced just a ‘continue’ option after every level.

I went into the game expecting something along the lines of PS2 classic Amplitude, but as I hinted before it actually leans more into the visuals than the game mechanics. This isn't a bad thing, just something to be aware of before you dive into it. As a result of the focus on visuals and stylistic presentation, the game feels much more cohesive. Honestly, I would recommend jumping into this game somewhat blind… maybe I should have lead with that. Prepare for a short, but memorable experience.

On paper Road Rash II doesn't seem like it has a ton to offer. Just a couple of courses to ride your motorbike as you combat your fellow racers with your feet, fists, and a handful of weapons. Though it lacks in variety it makes up for it in game play. As you make your way through the courses, vibing with some rough tinny tunes, you start to reach a flow-state not too unlike the so-called 'tetris effect' or that feeling you get after playing guitar hero for hours on end. Bobbing along rolling hills; weaving between vehicles, competitors, cows, and cops; maintaining your poise through oil slicks and the like, the game allows you to reach a point of mental calm. This calm is at odds with the attitude presented in its packaging, so its difficult to discern how much of it was intentional. It itself poses itself as 'edgy' and 'cool,' not in an authentic sense, but instead like a greaser--sleeves rolled up smoking a filter-less cigarette. The game itself is quite more profound. The invisible hand strikes again.

Sitting at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport and realizing that Super Street Fighter IV was not going to cut it for my New Years Eve trip to Boston, Massachusetts, I opened the eShop and took a shot on a game titled Pushmo. All I knew was that it was a puzzle game with a cute little red sumo guy named Mallo. Quickly running through Pushmo during that trip was the second most memorable part after having someone paint ‘202’ on my bare naked ass. It’s cutesy almost to a fault, but it's a great collection of puzzles and is one of the few 3DS titles that truly feels home on the 3D display. I never had a chance to play Pushmo World on the Wii U, and hope that Mallo makes his way to my Switch sometime in the near future.

If you were tasked with showing someone what a ‘video game’ was, and they had no prior experience with the medium, I think Portal 2 might be the best place to start. A game that does so much with a simple concept, just continues to reiterate, expand, reiterate again. Wrapped in a highly engaging story, a great balance of horror and comedy. It’s a pure game. I think there is something to be said that Valve--at the absolute peak of their power as a developer--said what they wanted to say with regards to single player gaming in 2011, and didn’t take another stab at that type of game for another 9 years.