The feeling of achievement and closure as the credits roll on this wonderful, soulful game is every bit as keen as the time we looked out from the summit of Celeste Mountain. [Issue#364, p.120]

Even more than in Returnal, the Roguelike elements here seem to exist more for flavour than systematic depth. And in that they complement the unmatched action, and the incredible visual, audio, haptic experience. It will be hard for Housemarque to come back stronger than this. [Issue#424, p.92]

Nidhogg is not about lengthy stage lists, improvable online systems, fussy control mapping or AI. Nidhogg is about the purity of two friends on a couch duking it out as Daedelus’s moody dynamic electronica frames acrobatic displays of wits and reflexes. In that sense, it has no equal.

In pairing back its design and focusing on only a few key elements, the studio has created an uncommonly beautiful, open-hearted game. The team's self-deprecation and shaky confidence belies an assured, courageously executed vision. The resulting adventure will give you chills and should stay with you for a very long time indeed. [July 2017, p.102]

GTAIV's modern weapons spit bullets like angry hornets until a health circle depletes; here, lives end in uncompromising fashion. For the western aficionado, it is viciously accurate; for the fan of wanton sandbox carnage, it is comically frank.

As always, the perception of good value lies with you, but even without a penny paid this is still one of the most fluid, elegant, and strategically rich online shooters available. It's a beautiful game to play – in the elaborate motion of its tactics as much as its bright, crisp worlds.

If at times its volume of perfunctory unlockables remind you that this is a Ubisoft game, elsewhere Kingdom Battle boasts a generosity of ideas that feels startlingly Nintendo...It's perhaps not quite good enough to bring you to tears, but if Odyssey is to be Mario's best game this year, it has a pretty high bar to clear. Not THERE's something we never imagined writing. [Issue#311, p.100]

It's still Monster Hunter. This latest - and surely greatest - entry simply makes it easier than ever before to understand why its fans fell in love with it in the first place. [Apr 2018, p.104]

Complex but accessible, inventive yet familiar, a game that has gripped browser windows is every bit as troublingly addictive in the palm of your hand.

Above all, this is what few pretenders manage to imitate, and ensures that even when your stated mission is to 'kill time', you feel like you're doing much more. [Issue#417, p.104]

ODST doesn’t quite take Halo into unfamiliar territory, but it does show how robust and adaptable the core of the game is – and, more importantly, stands on its own two feet as a spin-off that’s better than the vast majority of original games.

It's a rare delight to play a game with such consistency of vision, its art design, level architecture, rulesets, storylines and writing all working in lockstep.

It's harder than ever to resist embracing the chaos, because with so many ingredients its bound to surprise you more often than not. As its title suggests, this is a sequel that pulls out all the stops, as you sense that Sakurai is going all-out to indulge his inner nerd for maybe the final time. It's a rapturous celebration, not just of Nintendo, but videogames as a whole. Now for pity's sake, let the poor man have a rest. [Jan 2019, p.102]

In a word, unbeatable. [Issue#417, p.106]

Grid still offers the most on-track excitement (and better car damage), and the forthcoming GT5 already looks graphically superior, but anyone looking for the most rewarding console driving experience to date has found their ride.

So perhaps, we conclude, it's the right balance of the two styles that pays the biggest dividends, tagging each other in at intervals, oscillating between tension and release - after all, it's only when one character goes absent for too long that the game strains. [Issue#422, p.98]

Vlambeer’s game is, as its title suggests, ridiculous. In its simple, gleeful rhythms of play, it’s sublime, too.

Scrape away all the new bits, though, and crucially the magic is still there, the imagination and ingenuity within level and boss design as potent as ever. If you're experiencing it now for the first time, we're rooting for you at every step. Umbasa, as they say. [Issue#353, p.108]

A remarkable, big-hearted game from a developer whose debut gave barely a hint of the storytelling confidence and poise on show here. What Remains of Edith Finch is anything but unfinished; it might even set a new benchmark for the narrative adventure. [July 2017, p.114]

It provides a revolution, but only inside its own idiosyncratic attitude and aesthetic. Sackboy remains Sackboy, and he won't convert those who didn't like the way he behaved in LBP. And for all the fascinating flexibility of its toolset, clearly this is still a framework: you can stamp a creation with your own style, but the overall vibe will ultimately be Media Molecule's. For those who are happy to embrace it, though, LBP2 represents a dazzling new opportunity for creating deep, diverse and ingenious play.

Whether you're a mere mortal or a puzzle demon, then, you're all but guaranteed to enjoy the ride. [Issue#417, p.119]

That past half-decade, then, was evidently time well spent. Barring one or two lingering frustrations, where certain randomised elements combine to produce inescapable hazards, this feels like Cuphead distilled: an amalgamation of the best bits of the base game, with few of its shortcomings. Naturally, it's an exhilarating showcase of the Moldenhauers' breathtaking art and animation... [Issue#373, p.100]

Statik's greatest trick, among many, is to make the DualShock the star of this darkly comic puzzle game. [July 2017, p.118]

Portal 2 delivers, and it does it in style, creating one of the most meticulously designed, thrilling and delightful playgrounds we've ever seen. It's a game with a magical take on momentum, where single bounds over tall buildings are business as usual, where every surface is a potential launchpad, and the entire experience is a belly laugh.

It feels, in other words, an awful lot like classic Street Fighter, and praise doesn’t come much higher than that.

The freedom of movement requires a new level of spatial imagination. Before Prince of Persia, platform games were like playing Tetris with only the blocks and bars. [Christmas 2003, p.100]

Crucially, Autosport’s career structure and nuanced vehicle handling combine to alleviate any potential frustration for players weaned on effortless victories.

While there may be plenty of JRPGs with greater mechanical depth, few are capable of such affectionate and playful subversion. [Issue#375, p.114]