As a smarter-than-it-looks nostalgia trip, then, Shadow Warrior delivers, and as long as you keep that in mind - and consume it in moderation - it's an easy recommendation.

Defense Grid 2 is, quite obviously about defence, but it's also about being passive, about observing morally grey conflicts play out in front of you - without your input.

There's a quiet confidence to Grimrock 2 that is utterly beguiling. Bigger, bolder and utterly sure of itself and its intended audience, Almost Human may be looking to the past for inspiration, but it's created one of the best pure role-playing games of the year.

Shinji Mikami has yet to make a poor game, and The Evil Within does not blemish his record. But neither does the game enchant and disrupt in the way that Vanquish and the others managed. This is Mikami revisiting his past glories and, as such, it's both a delight and a disappointment.

Shallow and repetitive, Costume Quest 2's winsome appearance and occasional wit never quite obscure the busywork at its core.

F1 2014's a strange game, then, and one I can't even accuse of being just a casual reskin. It's a quantifiable step back for the series, saved only by the fact that what's there remains a satisfactory companion piece to this year's season if you're fortunate enough to have a decent steering wheel.

Too big for DLC yet not different enough for a sequel, think of it as a familiar snack served up too soon after an enormous buffet.

To me, Nostalgia mode feels like Pix the Cat at its best. Unlike the main mode it's played out on a single screen with no combo considerations, but unlike the forgettable Laboratory mode there's still a time concern. The thing that really makes it work, though, is the puzzle design, which is wonderfully inventive.

Bayonetta 2's biggest disappointment may be that it's an iterative sequel, but it's not such a problem when it's iterating on genius.

What we're left with is a flimsy framework - a sort of clothes horse for content - rather than a truly great racing game.

It's crazy how much effort has gone into the foundations of this tiny piece of Technicolor idiocy.

A shorter, sharper campaign would condense the high points more potently, and some better characterisation would make the plot twists hit harder. But if you're looking for a game that really sinks its teeth into what makes this iconic movie monster endure, look no further.

The final battle, in which you are transported to a cathedral in a fiery nether realm, can be accessed relatively early on. It is, however, an extraordinarily demanding fight in which you are set upon by waves of towering knights who battle alongside the Ivory king himself.

Above all though, I like the fact that it's kind of an art game take on stupid coconut-shy mobile sports rubbish while also being an extremely good example of the latter. It's the sort of game you could write a paper about but you will also see randoms playing and enjoying on the train.

The Vanishing of Ethan Carter leaves you with several amazing memories; moments that you will want to talk to your friends about for hours and will take great pains not to spoil for other people. The fact it packs those so painlessly into a three-hour game while other developers create empty works that take ten times as long to complete speaks volumes.

The lack of character development and some lacklustre supporting players result in a feeling of detachment from a game that only excels if you are invested in it. That's a shame, because there was potential for Crimes and Punishments to be a great truly great detective game, instead of just a mechanically sound one.

Editing in game design is as important as it is in writing or filmmaking. Get to the point. Respect both the time and financial investment of your audience. Above all else, don't send me chasing after the goddamn lorry.

Despite the missteps, Arrowhead's Gauntlet is a dungeon-crawler that understands the action's at its most thrilling when four players are piled in together, helping each other through the fight - and giving each other a hard time when they think that nobody's looking.

The handheld's d-pad cannot be used to move your character (instead it triggers taunts) and the analogue stick prevents precision inputs. Here, stripped of its fan service and joyful chaos the grim truth is revealed: Super Smash Bros. is a mediocre fighting game.

At the start of the game you're not much more than a lowly Ranger, sneaking through camps and silently slitting Orcish throats in the night. By the end of the game you're boldly strolling through those same camps, as terrified uruks whisper tales of the Ranger-turned-Gravewalker over fortifying gulps of grog.

All in all, it's a new, friendly context for multiplayer racing that's in total harmony with the solo game's adventurous, celebratory tone. In the original Horizon, as terrific as it was, the festival theme felt like a marketing hook first and a clever game structure second. In Forza Horizon 2, it's more like a philosophy, an outlook, a mood that has seeped right through to the core of the game and infused the whole thing with a pure, escapist joy.

Fantasy Life fails to capture either the lazy, pleasing routine of village life seen in Animal Crossing or the sense of urgency from the strongest Japanese RPGs. In its eagerness to offer variety, Fantasy Life somewhere lost its focus.

EA can quite fairly claim to have again delivered the best football game ever made. But every year the developers seem to have less of an idea what that means.

The story is pure pulp and the big picture is not that exciting, but as usual, the charm of Wasteland is in the stops along the way: location after location full of crazy characters and moral choices, and a writing team gleefully embracing the ability to do pretty much whatever they want.

The marriage of Zelda and Musou is an unexpected success, then - a game that recounts the Zelda myth not just in a new way, but in a whole new language.

It's a systematically refined game, with superlative combat and intriguing progression that plays the long game. It's beautiful. It's a slow burner, perhaps dangerously so for the skittish console audience, although the prevailing winds in gaming - where social, persistent metagaming is king - are on its side.

Above all, Murasaki Baby encourages experimentation and in doing so manages to recall some of the daunting wonder of early childhood. However, unlike those hazy childhood years, it remains fixed in your mind long after it's done.

Strategy takes a backseat to speed, efficiency and swarming your opponents.