Indeed, if you've only ever played the original Ace Attorney Trilogy, The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles is still a massive step up from those early games, both in terms of production values and the complexity of its cases. It might not match some of Spirit Of Justice's late-game twists, but this is definitely one of the better Phoenix Wright games in recent memory, and certainly since the original trilogy. As a prequel, it's also a great place to start for Ace Attorney newbies, offering a great introduction to Shu Takumi's visual novel detective series without all the daft baggage it's accumulated in games four to six. If I were a judge presiding over video games court, the strength of the evidence is clear. Far from a villain in the Ace Attorney series, Chronicles is grade-A goodness. With the full weight of the fiery jury behind me, I hereby declare this to be a most excellent video game.

I’ve had such a time with this. I’ve been bemused, entranced, confused and delighted. I’ve laughed a lot, been slightly creeped out, and constantly astonished at the level of detail in every element of this. There is just SO much to do, to explore, so many secrets I know I’ve missed, and bits I want to return to. This is completely splendid. [RPS Bestest Bests]

Over the past two years, Grounded has cemented itself as one of the best survival games around, with a gorgeous world that's teeming with life. That puts you in great danger, as the massive insects stomping around pose a rather substantial threat, but surviving their attacks and scavenging for materials is a fruitful endeavour. As you make your way through Grounded's biomes, swimming to the depths of the Koi Pond or escaping infected bugs in The Haze, you'll uncover new items that push you even further into this mystery and give survival a purpose. Even if you'd rather sit around and focus on making a cosy home, Grounded's reactive world means that it won't be long until the creepiest crawlies come knocking. It really does feel like you're just surviving in their world, and doing so is a constantly rewarding experience that I adore.

Disc Room might be readily slept on, but if you are the kind of tough game obsessive, a connoisseur of arcade death, or a bullet hellion who cannot resist the call to mastery, these rooms should be approached wakeful and willing and ready to die.

Helldivers 2 has filled an ache in my heart. My friends and I have longed for another fun co-op shooter since we all drifted away from Warzone, and Helldivers 2 has exceeded my expectations on every front - and particularly as someone who's grown tired of live service tropes. Yes, it might be lean in comparison to some live service giants when it comes to unlockables (looking at you, Destiny 2), but I think it has a longer tail by virtue of silliness being its top priority, where twists on simple acts make it a laugh generator and skill venerator. I could go on about how you can switch to first person for crunchier, more accurate shooting. How rockets can turn into explosive skimming stones if you angle them at the dirt. How the orange flashes of a gatling gun cutting through a dense mist is so beautiful it brings a tear to my eye. Oh heck, just buy the damn thing. [RPS Bestest Bests]

Beacon Pines may well be a trope-filled choose-your-own-adventure that keeps its fingers stuck between the pages for you, but its a testament to how well it delivers on its story, art and music that I enjoyed every minute of it anyway - and that I miss its characters now that it's over.

There are still mysteries to uncover and sources to identify in my game, but after hitting two endings, it's difficult to regain that same headspace where I was lost in its world.

As someone who loves the genre, I can forgive so many of Khazan’s defects because of this fierceness. But I can’t deny that the game has plenty of weaknesses outside of those pitched battles. If it was a more concise adventure (a full playthrough will set you back around 80 hours), a lot of the issues I’ve mentioned might not seem like such a big deal. Instead, it leaves me feeling conflicted. I'm caught between lamenting its laborious (and often rehashed) campaign, while truly celebrating its gratifying, in-depth combat. There are some bruising boss fight treasures buried in Khazan for any tough-knuckled soulslike fans, it’s just a shame you have to dig through mounds of uninteresting levels and scores of samey enemies to reach them.

I do feel a bit bad about ragging on The Plucky Squire, a game that's ultimately a fairly fun, inoffensive time and absolutely meant for people who aren't as ailing as me. Its energy is great and upbeat and lovely - a perfect balm in the face of today's horribleness. But I do think it suffers from trying to do lots of things and getting a bit lost within them (for what it's worth, I think it would've done better fleshing out the word-chopping ability, as it really can feel magical sometimes). The combat is fine, the platforming is fine, mostly everything feels just fine. And necessary restrictions on your ability usage means that you're always hunting for a one-note solution, as opposed to feeling like you're really altering the narrative. Even games 'meant for kids' still have those deeper layers beneath the simplistic surfaces, where the creativity of teens aren't underestimated and the oldies can flex their mastery muscles. Scratch away the ink and I don't think there's much beneath The Plucky Squire, sadly.

Is Lies Of P Bloodborne just Bloodborne with puppets, then? I say again, no! Lies Of P is a fitting ode and a definite must play for fans of From's dark epic, just don't expect it to match Bloodborne's supernatural cinema.

A Highland Song is beautiful and does it very well. As a game trying to let us run into that wildness, it trips up sometimes. After playing it, I am left with a desire to visit it again, but also a lingering, vague sadness. I can only be grateful for A Highland Song making me feel that.

It's a large and sprawling adventure, but there's no 'if's, 'but's or 'maybe's about it. Percentages be damned: this is a guaranteed hit for Marvel and strategy fans alike. [RPS Bestest Bests]

So much of what I enjoyed about Roadwarden was its unknowability. You’re a traveller in the peninsula for a little over a month, and it reflects that. You can’t fix every problem, you can’t make everyone happy, and you can’t know everything there is to know. Instead, you take in as much of it as you can, try to improve people’s lots slightly, and leave with a journal full of questions and sense memories.

Sharp as a spike bayonet in the AI department, surprisingly realistic in areas like morale modelling, LoS and armour penetration, SD’s crowning achievement is arguably its interface. It’s hard to think of a wargame that makes control feel so effortless or one that communicates unit details so effectively. [RPS Recommended]

Off-Peak deserved to be something less arbitrary than a point and click. Or it deserved a player with better taste than me. But given how much I’ve had to say in praise of both this and Frog Detective 2, the only two point and click games I’ve played in the last couple of years, I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I just don’t dislike as many things as I thought I did. It’s always good to shed your prejudices, and Tales From Off-Peak City helped me unload a good few.

My point is: while all this is happening, it feels fantastic. Fantastic and frenetic.

It’s the Baker family’s story and they’re magnificent. Grotesque, yes, but delightfully so. Like Friday the 13th, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street and the rest of their kind, it’s a game centred on its villains rather than their victims. And, like those series, this is a game that can scare you, startle you, shock you, draw a nervous laugh out of you and make you shake your head in disbelief, but mostly it’s just here to entertain. And the Bakers are right at the horrible heart of it all.

Resident Evil Village felt like it wanted to provide something for everyone, but to its own detriment. Those early bits which serve horror fans more were so, so good, and it was such a shame it lost sight of what made things engaging as it careered towards the end. I still had trouble putting it down, though. Even in its most absurd moments.

It may at first seems like a simple card battler, but Floppy Knights evolves into a meatier game the longer it goes on. There’s tough fights aplenty in the satisfying tactical battles with monsters of all shapes and sizes, and the challenge maps require you to plot your every move carefully to succeed. Rose City Games’ venture is just really easy to get along with, through its caring protagonist and welcoming art style, and never crosses too far into becoming a tiresome Saturday morning cartoon. Floppy Knights is a really enjoyable tactical card game that offers more the longer you spend with it, and it’s a joy to experience.

While Snufkin: Melody Of Moominvalley wraps up a bit abruptly and doesn't get the band back together as deftly as I'd have liked, I can't be too harsh on it all. Snufkin's adventure is focused on simplistic fun, where you meet some pals and uproot some order, all within the span of an afternoon. Pair this with a cuppa and a fluffy blanket and that's a holiday to remember.

As the horrors unfold and you learn more about the post, Threshold's commentary becomes clearer. It's about wilful ignorance and excess and preservation at all costs. And about how one's work can feel vitally important, even if you know something's up and your place within it disposable. Of all the horror games I've played, I think this one will stick in my memory as short, to the point, and wickedly immersive. So yeah, if you're happy to take over my shift, I'd urge you to. I'll actually be off now. Call me if you need anything, and keep the pace!

It’s as close to a perfect restoration as you’ll get, and the treatment these genre-defining games deserve.

Particularly nifty is the ability to port your trucks back and forth between maps. If you lose one in a snow drift and can’t yet afford a bigger vehicle to dredge it out, it’s feasible to head back to Michigan and raise the funds in safer environs. That’s the other children’s story SnowRunner resembles: The Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly. No matter the size of your stuck truck, you can nearly always send in something heavier. It’s the simplicity of principles like these that makes the ‘Runner games remarkably accessible, even as they grow in complexity and ambition.

Those complaints aside, I'm deeply into what Chivalry II offers, ie. a daft bloodbath. The moment-to-moment warring inspires many brief instances of silly movie violence. Chasing a disarmed opponent to the edge of a pit and booting him down, before being booted in yourself by the sneak who's been behind you the whole time. Chucking firebombs at your enemy's feet. Or chucking firebombs at your own feet, for that matter, in a spiteful final stand. Or leaping from a wall with an overhead axe attack but missing by two very important metres and crumpling your legs, granting your target ample time to crush your skull with his own cartoonishly appropriate weapon: a blacksmith's anvil. Chivalrous? No. Art? Well, just look at those colours.

Hitman 2 is about possibilities; the maps, weapons, and disguises all make it sing. Patience is it’s own reward: if you study your foes, if you watch the movement of guards, the placement of certain elements, you’ll get back what you put in.

The Banner Saga 2 is a beautiful sequel. There are moments where, as I watch the drama unfold in the dialogue and cutscenes, I almost forget I’m playing a game that came out in this decade. There’s an evocative sense of timelessness about the story and world that few RPGs create. And now that the combat has become a strength and not a weakness, immersing myself in the richness of The Banner Saga’s dying world is almost as enchanting as cracking open the weathered pages of my favorite fantasy novels.

The central, notionally interactive premise of fiddling around with camera angles, retuning signals and slapping censorship buttons isn’t engaging enough in the moment to make you want to dive back in and uncover the two thirds of the game you miss, but one helping of the news is more than enough. A strange, funny, and enormously ambitious game, Not For Broadcast is unlike anything else I’ve played.

More often you'll be gently ribbed by levels that reference the first game. The aforementioned shooting gallery's targets are effigies of the flying saucer, the monolith, and the briefly-erupting volcano from which you and they saved Muckingham. I very much enjoyed this, but I can imagine it has smaller returns if you didn't play the first game. The same is true of all those small changes I liked. But at the same time, if you didn't play PowerWash Simulator, you'll just come to PowerWash Simulator 2 as the best damn version of a game where you slowly waterblast crud off a toilet you ever did see. Not much to complain about there.