Fear the Spotlight offers me solace over escapism. It tells me that love is everywhere, especially in the dark.

With the amount of love and care poured into the storytelling, I wanted more from the gameplay. If the first part of Concrete Genie were more tightly done, it could have easily been one of my favorite games of the year. But like the fishing town of Denska itself, it faded before I could really appreciate it.

The first episode of Hitman is a very strong start, and it’s a return to form for a series that some were worried had begun to wander.

The biggest compliment that I can pay it is how sad I was when the breezy trip down memory lane ended so soon. Now I’m ready for Steel Assault II. Hopefully it’s not another six years away.

I just hope the second half lives up to the first when it launches on April 15.

I am impressed with Bloober’s ground-up transformation of its series into a compact nightmare with white rats. The game is a show of strength, despite fans’ reservations for the studio’s upcoming Silent Hill 2 remake, and I admire a game that cares about art as deeply as its characters do. I only wish that it weren’t so annoying about it.

More than establishing a core meaning or truth to cut through the absurdity of reality, No More Heroes 3 is all about imparting a feeling. Those emotions, by design, will be different for everyone who takes the Jodorowsky-like pill Grasshopper has manufactured into the form of a video game.

Most importantly, Carrion’s smart. It’s an extremely finely crafted game, so much so that you’re essentially playing a meat-smeared Metroidvania without a map, and you won’t even miss it. That’s quite something. Add in the excellent puzzles, ever-growing cast of enemies, and constant sense of progress, and Carrion is much more than just the gore. But ho boy, the gore.

Blud may not play perfectly, but this seven-hour vampire-killing adventure is such a visual treat that I rarely cared when a boss crushed me or the menu bugged out and I had to reload it. If you can put up with a bit of jank, Blud is worth playing on a big TV screen with some friends, preferably folks who grew up loving late ‘90s animated cartoons. Just be prepared for people going “Oh wow!” a lot as you run around town and save the world with a pink field hockey stick.

It’s a start at best. It’s not a destination.

I just wish there was more to do.

If Tokyo RPG Factory’s goal was to create a sad, stirring adventure that evokes memories of the past without feeling too antiquated, they nailed it, with big assists from Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy X, and even a little Xenogears at the very end. If this is the type of story we’ll continue to get from the Tokyo RPG Factory, then hey, maybe RPG assembly lines aren’t so bad.

Tell Me Why’s first episode, “Homecoming,” took me about three hours to play, and I had to stop after the episode’s surprising ending to take the whole experience in. The first episode’s events weren’t all that intense, but they brought up so many memories of my own life and experiences that I needed a break. I leaned back in my chair and thought about my mom and my sister, and the painful road we’ve travelled to have the often uneasy relationship we have now. I’m not going to say the game made me see their side of our past and present disagreements, but it reminded me how all that complicated, difficult stuff is part of a trans life I’ve worked hard to create. I’m grateful to have this particular experience of my life, even when it hurts a whole lot. I’m excited to see how Tyler navigates his own version of it as Tell Me Why goes on.

In a word, Crisol is uneven, and that’s the most novella-ass thing about it. See, the thing about novellas is that though they attempt it all–comedy, melodrama, camp, action, steamy romance, and thrills of all sorts–they also kind of fizzle out by their end. The balancing act is tough to maintain so consistently. Crisol‘s ambitions seem to lie all over the place, but despite that, it still brings out top-notch performances. I was hooked on its drama plenty enough to blast through Tormentosa’s clubs, caverns, and cathedrals. And it is a competent enough survival-horror title to thrill and occasionally provide a good scare along the way, even if it feels at times like its action and horror is pulling its punches. But for all its missteps, I couldn’t help but love Crisol‘s authentically Spanish heart, and I can’t help but desire more of it. From Crisol and from games at large.

Like Rama’s music, Afterlove EP balances the thorny and heartwarming parts of love and loss.

Because that’s the real message at the game’s conclusion. Life blows up sometimes, especially if you’re trying to make a living as a creative. Art is extremely volatile under capitalism. But through support systems that uplift us, whether that’s pushing us to do better or joining our indie pop band, we come to find out that we are o-fucking-kay.

It’s one of Nintendo’s most distinct games in years, one that makes great use of the Wii U for a fun, distinct solo or co-op experience.

It’s unfortunate that Savage Planet suffers from some annoying bugs and I wish the story came together into something more meaningful or interesting. I still had a blast playing it. I want more games like this in 2020: Games that aren’t focused on selling a battle pass or being 200-hour epics, a game that knows it’s wacky and embraces that and lets the player have fun in the world. In 2020 I need to smile more, and Savage Planet made me feel great, even if I was covered in goo.

By nature of its small match size and focus on streamers, The Darwin Project fosters an intimacy that’s rare in battle royale games. To get the full experience, you really have to talk to each other. For a final release, especially for a free-to-play game, this can be a gamble. But despite some changes that make gameplay feel a little more rote, The Darwin Project still has the weird, charming core that makes it worth checking out. Please don’t be a jerk. [Impressions]

Fire Emblem Warriors lacks charm but compensates with spectacle.

For all the flaws, the regular stutters, quirks with the UI, the bug in co-op where you can’t mute your microphone and occasional restarts to get a quest door to open, The Ascent is astonishingly good fun. I’d be stunned if it didn’t end up on many game of the year lists; I’m absolutely certain it’ll be on mine.

I do not regret my time with A New Frontier, but the emotional core at the center of the series seems rotten. There are seeds of greatness here, but A New Frontier never gave them the necessary time to grow. The Walking Dead started as a story about people. It was about a convict looking to redeem himself and a child growing up in an unfair world. A New Frontier chases after these figures but no matter how hard it runs, it always remains firmly in their shadows.

I’m surprised to find myself thinking of Mirror’s Edge Catalyst as a disappointingly safe game, given that I would never have used that word to describe its 2008 predecessor.

Warlords of New York isn’t The Division 3. But it does feel a lot like Division 2.5 or even 2.6. It’s a big step forward for the game, fixing problems that have been around since last year and giving players more to do and a better end game progression.

I can’t think of many times in the main game of Control that I was worried about what might be around the next corner or when I was truly concerned about what might be right behind me while I was searching for a power cube to turn on a generator, but AWE has tapped into those feelings with a weird, warped creature whose design is going to stick with me. Frankly, I’m a little disappointed that this is the last planned expansion for Control, since I’d love to see what happens when other horror genres get explored in the Bureau of Control (splatterpunk? slasher?) or maybe even other tones and genres entirely. Hell, give me a romance expansion. Let Jesse Faden smooch the Astral Plane (finally). I’m on board.

Mafia: The Old Country’s story was good enough to keep me engaged to the end with its authentic portrayal of 1900s Sicily and its superb characters. It’s too bad, however, that while the narrative traveled backwards in time for its new setting, the gameplay mechanics went along with them.

Outriders is a strange beast that won’t work for everyone, especially when the servers are down. But it mostly clicked with me. The use of looter shooter mechanics in a single-player experience with a solid narrative filled with fun, self-aware dialogue kept me playing even when fights got a bit annoying or missions were too long. Outriders isn’t a new Destiny or Warframe, and that’s fine. I’m happy that Outriders tries to be something different and more self-contained. It might limit its longevity, but it was nice to play something that was an adventure and not a treadmill covered in bad loot and battle passes.

And yet, painful as some aspects of No Longer Home are, there’s a poignant comfort to it as well. Ao and Bo may be bidding farewell to their apartment and to living together, but they’ll still be in each other’s lives. I may be leaving the Bay Area soon, saying goodbye to my favorite coffee stands and parks and movie theaters, and I won’t be able to meet those dear friends of mine for drinks at my favorite bars soon, either. But it’s okay. There’s something else No Longer Home understands about those rare, special connections in our lives. Those people who truly know us and see us? We carry their love with us when we go.