At its most intense, Exoprimal is aakin to playing an EDF game without the accompanying performance issues. [Issue#388, p.100]

It sounds as if the cast are having more fun than we are. [Issue#388, p.122]

If action games are at their best when experienced in a flow state, then Atlas Fallen's attempts to harness and bottle this magic are a creditable experiment. It's just a pity it sacrifices so much in pursuit of this ambition. [Issue#388, p.112]

While the specificities of lead developer Abhi's lived experience give Venba its distinctive flavour, they serve a story with which anyone can identify. [Issue#387, p.123]

Despite its leisurely atmosphere, Dordogne is a more serious story than you might anticipate. [Issue#387, p.122]

Between the taut design and violent screenshake, Roto Force feels like the kind of game Vlambeer would still be making were it still around. [Issue#387, p.121]

Still, we reflect, while launching all our problems into the sea one by one, it makes a nice change from pointing and shooting. [Issue#387, p.120]

This is a game of contradictions, then. It's an impressive exercise in mystery construction that often cringes at its own geeky strengths, masking its intelligence behind juvenile posturing. But at the same time its technical shortcomings rob it of that swagger, its anime stylings lacking the gloss you'd expect from the cocksure tone. Much can be forgiven when you're submerged in its waterlogged crimes, but you never quite shake the sense that Master Detective Archives is raining on its own parade. [Issue#387, p.118]

Trepang2 may not know many tunes, but it truly commits to those it does. [Issue#387, p.116]

The best Alien-licensed game not made by Creative Assembly. [Issue#387, p.114]

It's both startling and amusing to see a rival expressing annoyance, befuddlement or smugness. [Issue#387, p.110]

It's disappointing mostly because its strongest elements, from its dialogue to its excellent soundtrack (see "Radio ga ga"), are packaged within a limp rerun of its superior predecessor, providing scant few reasons to face the ghosts of the past a second time. [Issue#387, p.112]

The creative aims are clear and well-met: to create a Final Fantasy game with a more serious and grounded story, a more fashionable battle system and more mature world in which magic and monsters exist, and their effects on human ambitions and systems of power. On these counts, Final Fantasy XVI's gamble is a success. But whether this is a game to inspire passion among a new generation, in the way the high points of the series did, is debatable. [Issue#387, p.106]

We don't mind seeing behind the scenes, since in a way the whole game is just that storycrafting system on a larger canvas. [Issue#386, p.123]

It's testament to What The Car? that we're prepared to repeat the majority of challenges until we've earned a golden crown. [Issue#386, p.122]

It's hard not to lament the potential wasted here. [Issue#386, p.120]

As much as Firmament highlights the skills and importance of industrial labourers, then, it also brings with it some of the tedium of the real work - which surely wasn't part of the blueprint. [Issue#386, p.118]

And in declining to make any kind of meaningful statement about its environmental themes, After Us only demonstrates that, like its protagonist, it has nothing to say for itself. [Issue#386, p.116]

The bunker thus feels genuinely coherent as a place, and alongside a vividly oppressive monster, that's enough to ensure this latest bout of Amnesia is one we won't easily forget. [Issue#386, p.114]

The game's world of desperate survival is much more effectively painted through its mechanics. [Issue#386, p.112]

This isn't old school for old school's sake, it's a reminder that there's more to reviving classic material than nostalgia. Sometimes, it's about showing the modern industry where it lost its way. [Issue#386, p.108]

This game has not so much been created to advance the beloved series but to prepare the ground for its next generation. As sequels go, think more civil disturbance than raising hell. [Issue #386, p.104]

This is not only a kinetic, exciting and gloriously refined interpretation of the most storied fighting game series, but also the most generous and expansive offering yet. Here is a game that pays tearful tribute to its past, while determinedly seeking out a new and young audience - mindful, no doubt, that its future resides in their hands, be they practised or otherwise. [Issue #386, p.100]

Though perhaps it's the constraints that give this striking noir - the most invested we've been in the Tron universe for 40 years - such a strong identity of its own. [Issue#385, p.122]

Here, though, each death is just another opportunity for a punchline. [Issue#385, p.121]

The most significant addition is Quen marine Seyka, with whom Aloy forms a bond that goes beyond friendship. Yet the two fight more often than they flirt, and the need to either level or stock up between story missions means they don't spend enough time together for the would-be emotional climax to fully land. [Issue#385, p.120]

Fights descend into muddled brawls, as blobs of mobs smack into each other until one side keels over. [Issue#385, p.118]

Minus the combat, Benedict Fox is Metroidvania reduced to its most basic form, where all that matters are the platforms you can reach and the doors you can open. [Issue#385, p.116]