Took me a little bit to settle into Project Wingman: Divided into two halves, the conquest and campaign feel like they contain the missing element of the other mode- conquest is a rougelike, with a constantly rising alert level and a stingy economy forcing you to consider if it’s worth it to fight tougher and tougher enemies for the sake of a better payout at the end of a mission, but the maps are massive and barrain. The campaign has a number of massive and well-produced battles, but it doesn’t have any kind of meaningful scoring system that could force you to rethink your approach to old levels: clear something once and you're done, a far cry from the nice balance of the two the Ace Combat titles are generally able to strike. While I don’t think it would’ve been as easy as merging the two sides into one to fix some of my broader problems with the game, it’s still striking to see the two appeals acknowledged, but not combined.

Gets a lot better with time though- was going to write a lot more about the flatness of the early levels in the Campaign, but the transformative quality of the unlockable “Mercenary” difficulty addressed a lot of my problems, serving as the best kind of New Game +. You keep your fleet of planes and fight through remixed enemy placements, doubly addressing the slow pace and bog-standard engagements that dragged out the action of the early levels. Think that Project Wingman is most in its element when it’s dialing up the scale of the battles, cutting through armies of fantasy weapons-platforms, the screen crammed with sky-carriers and super-tanks and an absurd number of fighters.

It’s surreal imagery and a great threat, your missile warning constantly blaring out, and traces of railgun fire making for a distinct threat, their presence further complicating your ability to break line-of-sight with enemies. This increased difficulty also addressed one of my other initial problems with the game, which is the lack of resource-management compared to Ace Combat. You’ll pretty quickly have access to a surplus of missiles and special weapons, and the only limits on flares are a 10-second cooldown. It ends up being pretty easy to play thoughtlessly against the standard enemy arrangements, but the scope and length of the fights in this new mode made me much more conscious of my loadout and ammo supply. I knew I was going to finish the Mercenary mode when I had to really start experimenting with weapons on the fourth mission, forced to optimize and consider how to best use the newly-finite resources against lethal super-tanks that require you to destroy all their weapon emplacements first. Trying the pick them apart normally ended up being too dangerous, and I ended up refining my loadout to successfully incorporate heavier bombs over a number of failed attempts.

Good changes overall, but still wish the mission structure was more varied- would never have guessed I’d pine for the filler sections of Ace Combat 4, but being tasked to “kill everything” gets understandably old after 20 missions with no break in sight. The few times where it does break from the norm, like one mission where civilian planes are interspersed with enemies and shooting them down will fail the objective highlight how slight the modifiers could’ve been to transform the action. It’s a seemingly minor consideration, but it means you can’t fire away with your surplus of multi lock-on missiles and have to factor these neutral planes into your angle-of-approach. A time limit on a mission, some radar jammers that would impact your mini-map, or a few objectives you needed to protect could’ve similarly gone a long way as pace-breakers.

On the mind because it affects the game narratively too: An early-game mission where Cascadian forces are retreating from a major city is never able to land with the weight the presentation clearly wants, this supposed tactical failure preceded by gameplay where you’ve just spent the last 15 minutes annihilating every enemy on the map. Same goes for a solo mission which is framed as a smaller op before a larger offensive, but sees you clearing an enemy force that’s as massive as any of the regular encounters, and doubly annoying when you don’t have your Wingmen to chip away at some of the scattered emplacements.

Don’t want to be too dour though: haven’t had a chance (or the means to play it) but the Frontline 59 expansion seems to address a lot of the pacing issues I had with the main campaign of Project Wingman, and the strongest moments here make some of the more repetitive missions here easier to overlook. “Cold War” is the obvious highlight, a massive, mission-long dogfight that highlights the tenacity of the enemy pilots AI, and caps off with a great rematch against Crimson 1, your main rival throughout the game. Also one of best examples of how the great the energy of the presentation can be when everything here is firing on all cylinders: lively radio chatter and an inspired setting really managing to sell what a turning point this is for the world (and not to mention what a stellar opening this is). Could even see the somewhat lax mission design being a strength long-term, only rarely having to spend time hitting your marks in a choreographed set piece.

Rarely want to hit someone with the “It gets good X hours in,” but that’s exactly what happened here- really comes into its own over the course of the campaign and ends up being a great challenger to the normally uncontested throne of arcade flight-action.

note: was originally intending this as a flapjack, but I couldn't stop writing lol. didn't finish true ending and got lazy so I sorta put off writing this for a while. a little sloppy but I figured something this long should get posted as a full review.

once I finished the sage leaf dandori challenges + the olimar mode I sorta got what I wanted out of the experience. playing mario wonder a bit recently I noticed that that game has the good grace to offer some of its """hardcore""" content out of the gate as you explore; why didn't they do that shit in pikmin 4? could've tolerated the slow difficulty curve better in a tighter linear structure a la pikmin 3, but the shift back towards the pikmin 2-style cave progression prolongs the wait for the fun stuff. shocked by how rarely the caves incorporate room layouts that get more complex than the humble nuzzle; could've fooled me into thinking they had returned to randomized layouts as well given the plain feeling of many of these. overworld gameplay is fine but never evolves beyond idle busy-body gameplay, the dandori battles descend into chaos with their randomly spawning items and point bonuses, and the night missions strip out the normal routing focus in favor of clicker combat.

the challenges is where the designers flex their mental muscles quite a bit more. across the board rather fun to get perfect scores on (even the first few!); my pick for favorite of the non-sage leaf bunch is definitely the blue/ice one about halfway through where you trade off between gathering items in various underwater pools with freezing said pools to make walkways and shortcuts to other items. the new flaming pinecone idea is also a great twist on the old bombs, where the old limited-use mechanic is traded for reigniting the pinecone at little firepits strewn throughout a level. fits better with the new focus on short-term routing vs the long-term resource management of pikmin 1. the olimar mode scratches the latter itch by form-fitting the first four areas into a truncated version of the original and its limited day system. it reinterprets the overworld area from the campaign as actual routeable levels with limited resources (specifically with no shop), and for the couple hours it lasts I felt much more invigorated about thinking through my decisions.

dunno how I feel about oatchi. new swiss army knife tool that sorta turns off the game even without the many power-ups you can purchase for him. only works well in multitasking settings (as seen in the challenges) where choosing where to allocate him is more of a driving issue. he not only can deal with virtually every obstacle but also serves as a pikmin leader, although I found the method of dividing up the pikmin army between your avatar and oatchi to be more cumbersome than the buttery-smooth leader switching of pikmin 3. given that the caves follow pikmin 2's pattern of being best suited to tackling in a large ball rolling through each room one-by-one, I rarely ever felt the need to dismount oatchi. perhaps if his contextual actions were better geared for multitasking, I might have found it more useful; for example, if I send oatchi and a group of pikmin to knock down a dirt wall and then I go off to micromanage somewhere else, it would be preferable if oatchi would stay with the pikmin at the gate so I can switch over once their task is done rather than him immediately running back while the pikmin sit around dumbfounded. I got more comfortable with it in the sage leaf challenges where I was actually forced to play around oatchi, especially in the first few when I was still stubbornly refusing to upgrade oatchi past bare necessities. my positive takeaway is that they made this interesting asymmetric relationship with oatchi where he's the primary locus of your strategizing thanks to his wealth of abilities. on the other hand, in the context of the main campaign it ends up being more of a bulldozer that makes structured routing pointless in favor of just mindlessly throwing oatchi at everything.

combat in general has sorta been given up on. the biggest culprit is having not one but multiple types of pikmin that just turn off combat, with the infamous purples being supplemented by rocks and ice. ice in particular feels like a miss when it comes to explicitly establishing a trade-off: freezing an enemy and then shattering them is very safe but gives you nectar for leveling pikmin instead of a corpse you can trade for pikmin sprouts. would maybe work in a game that didn't freely give you extra and easy pikmin sprouts en masse, but here I was leaving corpses behind left and right out of laziness, so cheesing enemies with ice was almost always the best solution early game (even for bosses!). that plus the new lock-on (which has the dubious honor of both being brainless and annoyingly inaccurate and restrictive) plus oatchi plus charge... they just don't really know what to do with the combat system. which like, totally fine, but then you've gotta play up the routing, and I s2g 70% of this game just doesn't have that at all. at least the bosses are pretty quick?

I think what really killed it for me was the progression, where you're looking for your ship's pilot and you're just looking around the various areas trying to figure out where he is. felt like it was in-game weeks before I finally found him and could wrap up the main story. would've loved to skip a lot of the random-ass caves I did so I would've still felt fresh on the game for the endgame content, but unfortunately I kept getting stuck on optional shit. bet there was signposting I breezed past on accident so I'm not willing to completely blame that on the game. weirdly scattershot and unfocused. discussed more here.

Was für ein Spiel. Keine Ahnung ob ein sonderlich gutes, aber was für ein Spiel.

Diese Spiele wurden schon zu Tode besprochen im Internet, nachdem ein paar Souls Fans herausgefunden haben, dass es das Moonlight Sword auch hier schon gab und ihnen nebenbei noch ein paar andere Ähnlichkeiten aufgefallen sind.
Wusstet ihr, dass
-die exploration in Spielen mit exploration sehr ähnlich ist?
-Rollenspielelemente in Rollenspielen sehr ähnlich sind?
-Geschichten über verfluchte Orte häufig an verfluchten Orten spielen?

Nicht selten hört man Begriffe wie "Proto Dark Souls" oder, dass hier viele Elemente ausprobiert wurden, die From viele Jahre später erst mit den Souls Spielen perfektionierte und hier der Stepping Stone gesetzt wurd.
Ich finde ja, dass From mehr oder minder das selbe Spiel wieder und wieder und wieder rausgebracht hat, bis es irgendwann mal funktionierte.
Aber so allgemein find ich es extrem unfair die Arbeit von diesem Entwickler darauf runterzubrechen, dass jedes Spiel nur so viel Wert ist, wie es meiner Analyse zu Dark Souls weiterhilft und ansonsten keinerlei eigene Qualitäten zu bieten hat.

So...
und nun, wo das gesagt ist... Kings Field.
Kein sonderlich gutes Spiel, aber ein sehr faszinierendes. Die Novelty eines Wizardry-Klones, aber in vollständigem 3D, mit flüssigen 360° Movement, Echtzeitkampfsystem und richtigen düsteren Höhlen die man erkunden kann, muss zu PS1 Release schon erstaunlich gewesen sein.
Ich kann mir vorstellen, wie das hier das erste 3D Spiel, vielleicht sogar das erste Spiel überhaupt einiger Leute war. Man läuft rum, bekommt Angst vor seltsam wiggelnden Kreaturen und ehe man sich versieht, Todesschrei, alles nochmal von vorn.
Das Spiel ist von Sekunde 1 an extrem unfreundlich. Nichts wird erklärt, nichts wirkt einladend. Es gibt NPCs die mit einem reden, doch deren fehlende Gesichter und steife Animationen erfüllen das Herz auch nicht gerade mit Freude.

Was ich an dem Spiel so faszinierend finde, ist, wie es wie absolut Arsch aussieht, sich furchtbar steuert, du jemanden bestimmt überzeugen könntest, dass dies das erste 3D Videospiel jemals war - und trotzdem ringen die Emotionen die man erwecken wollte durch.
Du hast Respekt vor jedem Encounter. Du hast Angst vor Feinden die du nicht kennst. Du freust dich richtig einen neuen Gegenstand zu bekommen und bist erleichtert sobald du den ersten Savepoint erreichst.
"Oh, was macht dieses Ding?" "Was ist dieses Item?" "Will ich hier wirklich lang?" "Oh wow, ich hab DIESEN ORT gefunden!". Das sind Gedanken die mir ständig durch den Kopf gingen beim spielen und auch wenn Kings Field definitiv nicht das einzige Spiel ist was diese Reize entlocken kann, find ich es trotzdem faszinierend wie wenig man manchmal dafür braucht.


Dazu muss ich auch sagen, dass ich mag wie der Kampf abläuft. Ja, er besteht eigentlich nur daraus Fehler der KI auszunutzen, was aber recht gut funktioniert und balanciert wirkt. Ich mag auch die Exploration... zu einem gewissen Punkt. Und die Höhlen und... noch mehr Höhlen dieser Insel zu erforschen, fühlt sich sehr belohnend an. Und auch die fieseren und kryptischen Elemente mag ich irgendwie sehr.

Ich wünschte nur es wäre kürzer gewesen weil ich irgendwann einfach nicht mehr konnte. Und sobald die novelty aufhört, dann wird jeder Trip zurück, jedes erneute suchen wo ich nochmal sein wollte, jedes eeeewig lange speichern, zur Tortur.

Oh und alles am Ende ist shit. Wie man an das eine Schwert kommt ist Shit, der Bossrush ist Shit, der Boss danach ist Shit, der Raum danach ist Shit, der letzte Boss ist richtig shit. Aber bis so 10 Stunden davor, hatte ich trotz allem eine recht gute Zeit damit

+combat is so so cool. sora can finally pull off crazy stunts even without the high-level abilities
+presentation overall has taken a big step up from kh1. a good demonstration of how far games came in the ps2 generation
+gummi missions are way cooler and less boring (tho I certainly can't be bothered to replay them)
+timeless river (the classic cartoon world) owns. port royal and space paranoids are inspired picks as well
+the bosses have taken a big leap forward in both creativity and complexity. a nice 50-50 split between gimmicky minigame bosses and more taxing bosses that require studying patterns and timing attacks
+the payoff is rewarding for those who have kept up with the story
+drive forms let sora go completely nuts for a little bit, especially in master and final forms towards the end of the game
+major increase in the amount of abilities, summons, limits, etc. to provide options in combat
+disney worlds are so much easier to navigate than in the first game
+overall difficulty is scaled much better this time around (sans a certain FM endgame addition that was rather annoying)

-the story is poorly paced. there's three big plot dumps in the beginning, midpoint, and end, with about 20 hours of fluff between it all
-disney worlds have little to do with the plot, and many of them have a mandatory second episode. this is probably the biggest hurdle in the game. these worlds wear out their welcome so fast
-mobility techniques are locked behind leveling up each drive form, which is an extremely arduous task even with exploits
-much of the post-game content is tied to the mobility tech I just mentioned. again, grinding the drive forms is boring
-the story must have been incomprehensible at launch. 358/2 days clears it up quite a bit, but this game really fails to explain what is going on at several key points

overall enjoyment is going to depend on how much you can stomach the second run of each world + the plot dumps. I could't put this game down for the first half, and then had to push myself to clean up all of the second runs and finish it off. thankfully there's enough enjoyment to be had in watching sora flip all over the place to warrant making it to the final credits.

Probably the greatest NES game ever made, but this shouldn’t be a surprise, right? Super Mario Bros. 3 represents Nintendo at the peak of their creativity and technical prowess, with no competition in sight but still blowing the fuck out of everyone around them regardless. A peak so tall that not even Nintendo themselves have been able to make the climb since, at least for this sub-category of Mario games.

I’d rather not get hung up on what was “impressive for the time” since I wasn’t even a cell at its release and only played it years later from the early 2010’s and beyond, but this thing is just an absolute monster on every front. More mechanics, more abilities, more physics tricks, more tech crammed in the cartridge itself, all in 10 times the file size of the original Super Mario Bros. despite only launching a mere 3 years after that game. A save feature is the most obvious omission given its release window and massive campaign relative to other Mario games, but I have to believe they would have included it if they found it practical to cram into the cartridge. It’s an absolute marvel for the hardware, that much is clear, but I wouldn’t be singing its praises if it ultimately amounted to little more than a tech demo.

After a groundbreaking first entry and a successor that amounted to little more than an extra-challenging level pack, Mario 3 sets to evolve the series in every facet, from ancillary elements like the world map and progression, to the actual structure and pacing of the platforming itself. Where modern 2D Mario is most often concerned with the “introduce in safe space -> expand in challenging ways -> throw away idea and start fresh” cycle of design, it was really refreshing to go back to this one and see just how different R&D4’s philosophy was back then. Individual Worlds are still often differentiated by tone and trends in terrain like the repeated encounters with Big Bertha in World 3 or the labyrinth of pipes that make up World 7, but the actual meat of the platforming found in each stage is often ambivalent to the thought of gimmicks or setpieces.

If you asked me, I’d say the defining trait of Mario 3 is its density. Rarely in all of its 90 levels does the game ever give you a moment to breathe, frequently subjecting you to brief dopamine hits of platforming gauntlets to blast through before moving onto the next level. While in a lesser game this could lead to ideas passing right through the player’s subconscious, effectively getting tossed away and lost to the sands of time before you hit the credits, Mario 3 sidesteps this in some pretty clever ways.

Firstly, the game is pretty tough, at least by Mario standards. This is something I never considered as a kid growing up with Super Mario USA as my still-pretty-shitty version of Mario 2, but you have to understand that this is the developer’s follow up to The Lost Levels, not Doki Doki Panic. Mario 3 never gets anywhere close to the cruelty of that game, but this connection reassured me that no, I’m not just bad at the game, but Mario 3 was actually getting kinda tough. Since dead air is all but eliminated and fine control over Mario requires more skill than ever before thanks to the addition of P-Speed and the lack of extended tracks to easily get there, most moments take more mental input on average from the player to lock in on and get through, so even after getting through the game spread out over the course of a few days in-between impassioned sessions with Ninja Gaiden Black (a game that has occupied all available brain space this past month), I doubt any moment will stand out as alien to me when I revisit the game in the future.

Beyond the surface level difficulty, I think the biggest triumph of these levels is the brisk pace in which you get through them. Levels are frequently over and done with in under 30 seconds, and since no moment is wasted, it feels like less of a commitment to munch through them in quick succession after either a full reset or even just a game over within a world. I can absolutely see this becoming the type of game where I just boot it up for a few minutes to mess around in a few levels, only to get caught in its orbit and run through the whole thing in an afternoon, that magnetic sense of flow and pacing is something I find difficult to maintain in a ~3 hour game, but Mario 3 nails it with absolute grace. It’s revealing to me that this is the only(?) 2D Mario that features absolute no checkpoints within any of its levels, further lending to how sticky the full layouts of stages tend to be in the game. Turns out it’s way harder to remember small slices of geometry within a stage if it lands in the half you won’t have to play through nearly as often to succeed completely.

As you progress through each of the 8 Worlds and new arrangements of locales spring to life on the route to the castle, it always feels like a completely fresh journey awaits as soon as you land. The idea of bringing in a world map was probably born of the desire to bring more flavor to progression as well as to house your item inventory, two things that surely smoothed out the flow of play for a wider demographic of people, but surprisingly, laying out a route in disarray has a cool side effect on potential failure. The most obvious benefits to world layouts are the ability to hold secrets and skip levels, but it’s the wipe of progress that comes from a game over that really perked my ears up on this recent playthrough.

Rather than simply wiping all your progress, Mario 3 slowly peels back the world with shortcuts and new routes that open after passing certain milestones or using specific items, with the distinction that main number levels will still be reset when all lives are depleted. If you had to start fresh each time in a challenging section of the game, it could potentially lead to repeated runs becoming more exhausting to play through. While I personally enjoy gauntlet challenges in games as I find them to be interesting tests of endurance when done well, it can get tiring pretty fast (unless, again, you’re as suffocating as say, NGB).

With the middle-ground approach found here, I think it more easily satisfies all types of players rather than catering to one side of the fence. After tearing down a fortress you can start skipping levels you may have already completed, but crucially, they still remain open if you want to go back in for power ups or extra lives. If game overs had truly no downside, walls of progression could potentially drain you of all your resources and become all the more frustrating to push through when you have nothing left to fall back on, but here, you always have time to rethink your approach and plan for your next attack. Alternatively, if your nuts are fat you can always smash your head against the wall more quickly by going straight to these tougher sections, ultimately leading to a faster pace and more rewarding level completions. While it admittedly comes into play mainly at lower skill levels (let’s not kid ourselves, Mario 3 isn’t that hard of a game all things considered), it’s still a consideration I greatly admire. And besides, high level players still get to enjoy the simple pleasures of the map, such as the increase of tension late in the game or the joy of cleaning out an entire screen of content without heavy failure.

While the advent of 3D titles as well as later 2D Mario games are clear canvases for expression from the big N, always keeping this series fresh some 40 years on, so much of their success is owed to this game in particular. You could say the existence of a level hub and level skipping are probably the traits Super Mario 64 are best known for on a wide scale, but they weren’t designed fresh for that game, they started here. It’s not just a case of a game introducing cute ideas for later games to perfect - though a compelling case can and has been made that Super Mario 64 is one of the best to ever do it - it’s a case of a game truly perfecting every pillar of design it tackled. I’m not sure I’ve played another 2D Mario (or maybe Mario in general) that feels so alive and well-realized as this. Beyond its influence for future games, beyond how impressive it stood for the time, beyond how important it is culturally, it nails perhaps the most important trait of a game like this. It’s just really god damn fun to play. For my money, it passes with flying colors and soars into the skies of perfection. It’s Super Mario Bros. 3, man.

Beyond their obvious visual splendor, what really struck me about Boku Natsu 2’s fixed camera angles was how they create a unique relationship with time. In similar Japanese adventure games about mundane day-to-day life – your Shenmues or your Chulips – the clock is always running independent of you and this often creates situations where you simply have nothing to do but twiddle your thumbs while you wait for the next scheduled event to happen. As top Backloggd scholars have pointed out, this can be oddly immersive in a way, as you scroll through your real-life phone or do something else around the house while you wait for the time to pass in-game. I’m not fully sold on these kinds of “time-wasting” systems but there’s certainly a lot of charm in how they represent boredom and alienation felt within the hustle and bustle of the city.

Boku No Natsuyasumi 2 is set in the rural countryside though, and as such its understanding of time is quite different from those games about city slickers. While there’s still a day/night cycle and a finite number of days before the game ends, time only advances when you move from one pre-rendered background to the next. Constructing the game this way, you still feel the pressure to spend your time wisely and traverse the world as efficiently as you can, but each screen is also its own pocket dimension where you can linger as long as you’d like. This is the real difference here: In Chulip, passive play is something forced onto you and an excuse for the player to stop paying attention to the game for a couple minutes. Sometimes you just miss a train and have nothing better to do but sit around waiting for the next one. In Boku Natsu 2 however, passive play is turned into an active choice. A conscious decision, as significant as any other, to do absolutely fucking nothing but drink in the sunset until that fireball finally goes out for good. At one point a character playing the guitar remarks that she feels like she’s been sitting in the same spot strumming the same song for 1000 years. And maybe she has been. These beautiful, fleeting moments can last forever if you’d like them to.

Like most of my favorite game narratives, Boku Natsu 2 is quite thin on actual plot and is instead a game about talking to loads of different people and slowly forming an understanding of character relationships and the world around you. And there’s a satisfyingly predictable rhythm to how it all unfolds; each character will have exactly two new things to say to you each time you see them, the many subplots of this game being fed to you a couple breadcrumbs at a time. Through it all, there’s an understanding that seeing and doing everything is completely infeasible. Minigames are too time-consuming and characters are spaced too far apart for you to realistically see half of what this game has to offer on a first playthrough. So despite the game’s large number of collectibles and sidequests, play rarely becomes something stressful or compulsive. As the in-game month of August wore on and subplots continued to pile up, I did start to feel less like a child on summer vacation and more like an errand boy for all the grown-ups around me. Though the game smartly chooses to wrap up its major character arcs a few days before the ending, which gives you a chance to decompress and play aimlessly for just a little bit longer.

Boku Natsu 2 is an unrelentingly pleasant game about nature, romance, and new life, but it never becomes too saccharine as there’s always the specter of industry, divorce, and death creeping in around the edges. The writing itself is wonderfully terse, full of frequently beautiful reflections on life and the world that feel achingly true to conversations between children and adults. Even when the story suddenly escalates during the final third and the player starts piecing together a larger picture that our 9 year old main character has no ability to process, Boku Natsu 2 always puts that 9 year old’s perspective front and center. Because at the end of the day, that perspective and innocence is why he’s able to mend the hearts and soothe the souls of everyone around him.

“Listen, doesn’t sitting on the swing make you feel like you can be a poet?”

(Played on Nightmare, mods used: Original TAG1, AI Restoration, Fixed Immora)

Doom Eternal feels like it should be the greatest single-player FPS ever for me, and I really admire its ideas and ambitions, but instead it's just a pretty good game. Why?

My main problem is that most of the encounters have a "soupy consistency": they feel similar despite me ostensibly making different decisions in the moment. I am still not sure what precisely is causing this, but I think most of the complaints about this game aren't getting at the core issues, so I'm just gonna throw out a bunch of things that I think are primarily contributing.

Movement in Doom Eternal is just ridiculous. For comparison: Quake allows for building momentum and doing crazy jumps, but this is very geometry dependent and difficult to execute while in combat. Doom's movement is more straightforwardly fast, but enemies have large hitboxes which easily bodyblock you, and the vertical axis is off-limits. Halo (and many other FPS) simply have slow movespeed that forces you to commit to positioning. DE has fast immediate movement + easy height and momentum boosting with meathook and ballista + 2 dash charges that cancel momentum and can go any direction. Faced with this kit, enemies have an extremely difficult time contesting you, especially in the air, and it's more likely that you'll get clipped by some random projectile than from misjudging a situation per se.

The level design is exacerbating this problem! Almost all the arenas you fight in are huge spaces filled with monkey bars/jump pads/ledges/etc which allow you to easily run in big circles, flee when threatened, and glide over enemies' heads. Cooldowns incentivize this too! TAG1 and the Master Levels try to combat this somewhat by using more environmental hazards, shrinking arena sizes, and placing major encounters in the comparatively cramped areas between arenas.

In the former context, the enemy roster generally struggles to pressure you. This is a real shame, because in many basic ways they are quite well-designed and differentiated (some writeups here, here). The Marauder has strong (and annoying) defense that demands you hold specific spacing, but even then it's not all that hard to just run away and ignore him. Most everyone else will let you flit around whatever range you want to be at and fire away, as opposed to the melee-oriented action games that Doom Eternal is drawing on, which require spacing and attack commitment.

There are a few exceptions. Carcasses subvert the issue by hiding and spawning energy shields at a distance which can abruptly block your path, i.e. actually contest your offense. Blood Makyrs reuse the annoying traffic light mechanic to prevent you from bursting them, but shoot massive, fast, movespeed-reducing projectiles that are dangerous and predictable enough to warrant playing proactively around. Cyber-Mancubi at least incentivize closing into melee range, where they can easily deal damage to you (unless you use the very silly chaingun shield).

The Spirit, in fittingly maximalist fashion, brute-forces the issue by just cranking up the health and speed of possessed enemies. Suddenly ranged enemies are difficult to dodge without cover, and melee enemies become relentless harassers that can actually keep up with you. On top of that, you need to make sure that you have ammo + time + space to kill the ghost itself, or let it possess something else. I wouldn't say it totally fixes the aforementioned problems, but it helps.

I say this about almost all fast FPS but this game really needed an enemy similar to Doom 2's Archvile or Quake's Shambler, something that can control space without the player just reactively dodging. Obvious, persistent homing missiles like Doom 2's Revenant or Quake's Vore might have helped complicate movement too, and the Glory Kill iframes couild even be used to avoid these big attacks (see: Ninja Gaiden incendiary shurikens).

Watching high-level play of DE is kind of weird, because of how ridiculously powerful weapon switching is. Nonstop swapping between ballista/rocket/precision bolt/SSG dilutes their individual characteristics as tools and turns them into one giant DPS hose. Almost all enemies can be bursted down near-instantly, especially with the various swap glitches that have been discovered over time, and meathook + ballista boosting to create sightlines quickly. Most players of course won't reach this level, but even for me I could feel the echoes of this playstyle when tackling the hardest content.

This game has a weird relationship with difficulty in general. Not being able to scale intensity isn't a critical flaw IMO (arguably original RE4 is like this). But I don't generally find Doom Eternal most compelling when the fights are easy, for reasons mentioned above, and trying to make the game extremely difficult presents issues. Because enemies move and fire so erratically:

* Initial placement is generally unimportant, and cannot be used as a design lever

* Single enemies struggle to exert pressure, but if the mapper places too many enemies at once, it becomes difficult to discern order from the chaos, and generic "just keep moving" strategies will dominate

Environmental hazards and AOE spam can work, but don't always feel like they change your decisionmaking that much, and feel vaguely annoying for many people, including myself at times. Limiting access to your tools, as seen in the Classic Mode for Master Levels, certainly does, but this is rarely used so far, and certainly not to the level of e.g. Doom maps.

Sometimes though I think that everything I wrote above actually doesn't matter that much, and the real problem is some difficult to pin down game feel issue. The game feels vaguely "floaty," in a way that makes it less satisfying to move around and fight. Sadly I can't identify exactly why this is, but it really does matter, even for a game near-exclusively focused on combat depth. For example, even after putting thousands of hours into Monster Hunter, the way the classic games control still feels viscerally enjoyable to me, and hurts my experience with the new games in comparison.

I found this game very difficult to analyze, so forgive any shortcomings. Check out Durandal's writeups here and here to hopefully fill in some of the gaps. Hopefully this team's next game can somehow overcome these issues and fulfill the potential of this style of design.

the swinging package here is sewn up by three mechanics: the boost, the web zip, and the charge jump. in a modern design, the boost would inevitably be restrained by some kind of resource like a meter or a cooldown thanks to the idle nodding of designers seeing a chance to add an explicit limitation to the system. spider-man 2 doesn't need that; the boost's only mechanical restriction is that it can be used once per swing with no other catch. simply obtaining the speed that it comes with using it adds enough danger to traversal to avoid any need for an artificial check on its power. the web zip (once obtained) defrays this by opening up an escape hatch when you need to bail out. its ability to quickly change your angle and briefly cap your speed reins in runaway or unexpected swings. the charge jump overlays all of this with the ability to influence height out of the swing and weave in ground movement without losing momentum. it gives the player a variable amount of impulse based on how long it's been buffered, and it sits completely independent of the other moves, making it chargeable in the background while simultaneously swinging. these three beg not only multilayered decision-making, with fingers working independently to control different systems, but also robust split-second decision-making that keeps the player constantly juggling the three as the micropositioning constantly evolves.

that's primarily because the micropositioning (partially) controls where spidey's webs go, and it's nuanced to such an extent that you'll often have no idea what exactly it'll attach to or how you'll swing around its fulcrum. watch this quick speedrun of the pizza missions and you'll see even a world record holder overshoot objectives, muddle with awkward climbing angles, and get stuck inside a fire escape. this chaos persists even at lower speeds, so there's no point to holding yourself back; boost as often as you can and be prepared for disaster. the game's challenges accept this fact and run with it by featuring generously sized rings to run through without many "tricks" involved. in fact, most of the challenges would feel like filler if not for the volatility of the swinging system giving much-needed variety to what otherwise are checkpoints slapped inside city blocks. you're never expected to plan intricate routes through these because accepting inconsistency and learning to work around it is the core of the game's unique movement system. even simple additions to a challenge such as mandating wallrunning, loop-de-loops, or landing on the ground inside particular checkpoints wrinkle the necessary traversal in such a way that you'll remember one-off challenges days after you originally played them. these nuances are the crux of the game's appeal.

whether this sounds appealing to you in the long run depends on how much intrinsic enjoyment you can get out of this system without much structure surrounding it. its these challenges and the pizza missions providing most of your sustenance, and luckily they're available from mere minutes into the game. however, to further upgrade your base speed, expect to pay the piper by sleepwalking through ~4-5 hours of story-driven setpieces. it shockingly does little to play with your swinging chops and instead alternates extremely lax "get to the objective" segments with dull beat-em-up combat that rarely escalates beyond spamming the air combo and the contextual dodge. it luckily rarely veers into true frustration, but the fact that you have to engage with it all was a rather sore point to me. having to eat my veggies to enjoy my traversal dessert doesn't hit quite as hard when the dessert itself is a bit of an acquired taste, riddled with its own frustrations and inconsistencies. holistically the experience feels often more like something I enjoy dissecting in theory and less so in practice.

the similarities to gravity rush occurred to me while playing, as I outlined in my review of that game that it was also a bare-bones open world experience buoyed by its exciting traversal yet limited by rarely leaning into it outside of optional challenges. spider-man 2 is an even purer expression of that sentiment, with a washed-out, flat version of manhattan replacing the anachronistically rich hekseville and an even more wild and disorienting swinging system replacing the comparatively straight-forward gravity control. a game I see myself continuing to pop in to pick away at the remaining challenges, but not necessarily one that kept me enthralled.

I think folk have been awfully harsh about New Super Mario Bros. in expressing their relief with Wonder. It's largely the same thing.

Despite the suggestions I've been seeing, Wonder doesn't represent a huge shift in 2D Mario design like 3 or World did. There's no innovation on par with the P-Meter, the world map, multiple exits or Yoshi. I might go so far as to suggest that the NSMB sequels did more to revitalise the core Mario gameplay. I think those games deserve far more credit than they're given for making 2D design mainstream again after a decade of tech-driven design. I'm not sure we'd have a Street Fighter IV without them. The real value in Wonder is in the soul it injects back into 2D Mario.

For as much as I'll defend the NSMB games, I won't deny they were sterile. You could enjoy playing them, but there wasn't much to love in them, with their sanded-down on-model characters, plastic levels and synthetic sound design. Wonder is focused on surprising and delighting its players. To "put smiles on the faces of everyone Nintendo touches". Wonder is frequently silly, strange and amusing, but kind and gentle in being so. Never obnoxious or upsetting. Even the Talking Flowers are soft-spoken and encouraging, never coming close to Omochao unsufferability. It's a game that will enthral fans, lapsed Mario players and children who are playing Mario for the first time.

It's no World, though. The focus on novelty holds back the depth of each level's appeal, and I don't really see myself coming back nearly as frequently as I would for my favourite entries in the series. With the exception of the Drill Suit, none of the new power-ups switch up the gameplay to the degree of SMB3's. The Power Badges are a welcome addition, but essentially just serve to bring back gameplay styles from more distinct entries like Mario 2. The game didn't feel like the kind of shift I'd expect in an all-new Mario game, but a post-Mario Maker NSMB sequel that had to do more bespoke stuff with its levels to justify itself. When I accept that, it's easier to appreciate the things that Wonder does well.

Within Nintendo, Wonder has been approached as an opportunity to give younger members of the staff more control within their most precious franchise, and it's clear that they've been very delicate with it, while addressing the tastes of 2023 audiences. They've clearly studied the series for inspiration, and Wonder incorporates a lot of features I haven't seen Mario touch in years. I really appreciated the funny little cutscenes after each castle, which are straight out of SMW, but they also help establish the sense that these disparate, wacky levels are intended to represent an overarching adventure. The online features are intended to encourage players who might drop out of frustrating, lonely single-player games, and I appreciate its inclusion, though it's not something I took a personal interest in. Even the concerning Talking Flowers do elevate the experience of retrying a level, with a voice cheering you on through the obstacles and enemies.

The diverse roster of new enemies and multiple playable characters really add to the game's sense of vitality. There's so much energy in their animation, and a lot of great little details. You can play as your favourite, and you're never made to feel like you're not getting the real experience if you don't choose Mario. Even the story's text boxes use a variable field for the character's name, so you can pretend this mission to save the Flower Kingdom was mainly the work of Light-Blue Yoshi, if you so choose. All the transformations are unique to your chosen character, and all of Peach's were really cute.

Super Mario Bros. Wonder is a really fun game, built with great care and talent. I just can't help but feel it regresses in areas that I don't expect from a new Mario title. Maybe that's the problem with bottling a beloved formula. I don't know if we're ever going to get another 2D Mario game that messes with its fundamentals as much as the new 3D ones do. With Miyamoto and Tezuka taking more hands-off roles on these projects, there's clearly a concern not to break what they established. Perhaps it would be better to follow in their sense of wild, daring creativity than to just play covers of their biggest hits. Maybe that's an unrealistic desire, though. Whatever. It's another good Mario, and I won't feel too hurt if they just make more of those.