I think of the themes FromSoft's Miyazaki is so fond of revisiting, of monarchs clinging on to life and power well past their time, and becoming something warped and hollow in the process. And I can't help but see an exhaustion in Nightreign, despite splotches of sprightly inventiveness. I'm left asking why I should want to throw myself at these bosses once again, absent much of the delight or discovery that would give these challenges context. Instead, this is challenge for challenge's sake. A stripped-off part of FromSoft's creative identity with little appeal absent the whole. And ultimately, I'm left wishing they'd sit back down at the bonfire and have a good, long rest, until a real spark makes itself known again.

Heaven is only a fleeting fiction, next to the protean immensity of the deck.

If you reckon you've got a higher tolerance for battering the 'skip dialogue' button though, by all means go for it. There is, as I say, some excellent, dumb fun to be had here.

It can feel disconcertingly ordinary to interact with until it hits with you a new snippet of muscular, wispy prose: a huge abandoned excavator is a 'monstrous aggregate'. Ancient despair is teased out with oblique hints and concrete modernism. You keep marking days on your calender, you're told, despite losing any real sense of time. You can feel the weight of the earth's layers above you but any real concept of a surface feels like a distant idea: 'up' only of any real consequences to let you know where down is. Do I want to play more? Not especially. Will I be thinking about it for a good while? Yes! It's come for the vibes, stay for the vibes, essentially. Still, pretty singular as far as vibes go.

It's a smart roguelike for anyone who loves the core ingredients, but not everything lines up.

The one thought that kept occurring to me during my first playthrough was this: I can't wait to collect everything and get all the upgrades so I can stop worrying about sniffing out air vents and puzzles, switch my brain off, and just play some goshdarn Doom. It took me about halfway through my next run before I realised something: all this exploration, all this bloody gold collecting, it's not something you're supposed to do once as a fun extra before the real game starts. It's an integral part of the cadence of a game that veers repetitive and thin without it. There's just plain less to do here. Less to combat. Less reason to replay levels. This is a solid enough FPS that I don't regret playing - sometimes, it's downright captivating - but between the mech, the dragon, and all the medieval armour, something vital has been crushed under all that extra weight.

Maybe I'm so enamoured by Despolete because football has been a constant companion in my own life. My childhood memories are inextricable from hundreds of hours spent playing Sensible Soccer, or from kickabouts at the park in which my friends and I provided our own colour commentary and adopted the roles of regens from our Championship Mananger campaigns. When I dreamed, I too dreamed of football. I think if you've never had that kind of relationship with the sport, Despelote might help explain to you what it means to the people who do. I think in particular it might be an antidote to a UK football culture often defined solely by the megabucks Premier League, with its millionaire players and state-sponsored sportswashing projects. [RPS Bestest Bests]

I think this is basically for two types of people: those who played Oblivion back in the day and think they'll get a real kick out of the updates, and those who just can't deal with the way classic Oblivion looks and controls. It's a game for the curious, for the nostalgic, and for those that want to be part of meme-stuffed zeitgeist moment. It's that last point I imagine Bethesda are banking on, barging themselves back into cultural relevancy on the back of Virtuos's hard work like the cheeky gits they are. If you're hungry for a gorgeous medieval open world to get properly lost in, you're still much better off with something like Kingdom Come: Deliverance II. But if you ever wondered what Skyrim would be like if it was less existentially grey by every metric, there really isn't a substitute for the undeniable charm that Virtuos have so cannily preserved here.

Even outside of those giggling japes, there are endless smile-raisers. The inventive playfulness of Blendo is on full display. There's a James Bond styled opening song that you walk through as the credits roll. Exposition chats are accompanied by an old-fashioned projector that lights up the room with figures and diagrams. Finish a level and the game will sing "Niii-naaaaaaa!" in celebration. It's got so many little flourishes like this. Granted, I'm predisposed to love a Blendo Game, after the smash cuts of early free games like Thirty Flights Of Loving, and the hacker heisting of Cowboy. But if you haven't played anything from this studio before, Nina Pasadena's sci-fi jokeathon is certainly the place to start.

Very occasionally, I'll play an RPG that makes me feel ten again. Rebirth. Cris Tales. Revisiting Suikoden. Years come, the big number ticks down, and comfortable appreciation replaces the spellbound enchantment of being told a story, of being swept off to a new world. Of playing Final Fantasy 8 in that special edition shirt that Ben Starr likes to wear that I wish I'd kept because I bet it's worth a bloody fortune now. You wait for a game to bring you back there, mostly certain you've moved passed the capacity to feel that way because you now have the sort of adult concerns that cause you ask how much a shirt might be worth on Ebay. I can't say if Clair Obscur will work its magic on everyone the same way, but it certainly did for me. I'm still not ready to leave, honestly. What a special and rare thing this is: a story that feels like someone wanted to tell it so badly it hurt. [RPS Bestest Bests]

I also don’t want it to sound like that bit of collectible busywork spoils what is ultimately a very good mix of satisfying snapping and eyes-agog wandering. You can always just capture the requisite frames while you’re passing by, looking for your own shots, and - truth be told - the striking vistas you’ll win access to are very much worth a spot of picture-matching. Come for the lessons, stay for the landscapes.

If you hadn't gotten the message by now, Blue Prince is a marvel. [RPS Bestest Bests]

There is, to the abhorrence of some onlookers, a deep hunger for this kind of rampant simulation of militarism and madness. Whether that hunger is sated with this early access version, I don't know. I still haven't gotten past the "Apartment Wars" quest which sees you choose between corpo pondlife or raver dirtbags. I cannot discount the endless empty rooms with hideously clashing textures, but it is also difficult, given the nature of a Consumer Softproducts blaster, to tell what is an unfinished area, and what is just meant to look unfinished. I won't discuss the surprising price tag any further, other than to say I recently spent the same amount of cash on a wrench, and I can say with solemn certainty that the bright moving images about getting my head shot off are more interesting. [Early Access Review]

My own enjoyment of Rosewater feels like a contagion in that way. Not just from the joy that palpably went into its creation, or the fact that the star-studded voice cast (including Arthur Morgan and the narrator of Baldur’s Gate 3) clearly had the time of their lives. I enjoy it because it reminds me of the games I could spend a month on back in the aughts. Other times, though - when I’ve spent a half hour wandering around, exhausting dialogue options in hopes of connecting the dots that will let me move on - I’m reminded of the adventure games I’ve played in the intervening decade which iron out the snags that Rosewater so often gets stuck on.

I feel about Wreckfest 2 how I recently felt about Space Engineers 2. In that it has an impressively strong frame and wonderful motor, yet really requires some seats and mirror dice and maybe a leather wheel guard to make it truly capable of holding your attention. I like it, and yet I cannot honestly recommend that you buy it. Early access games come in all shapes and sizes. But at the end of the road, one of my jobs (aside from going full throttle on automobile analogies) is to guard your wallet somewhat. Though I like the feeling of Wreckfest 2 in my mitts, I wouldn't shell out 25 quid for the limited hours of bouncy, crashy fun it can grant you. Some view money splashed on something like this as a buy-in cost, an investment, the ultimate act of pre-ordering. I've never been one of those people - when I fork over my lunch money I do want something approaching a game. Wreckfest 2, even with its horsepower, heft, and hellish good looks, doesn't currently offer me more than an evening of messing about. [Early Access Review]

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.

It's a shame that next to the investigating, Atomfall’s shooting, sneaking, and cricket batting don’t deliver the same joys. Still, they’re competent enough not to get in the way, and with a little finesse it’s possible to enjoy extended bouts of that rich, intricate sleuthing without doing a single violence at all. Don’t let those village pub bores get you down: there are far worse places for a forgetful soldier-detective to be.

The setting will largely dictate whether or not it speaks to you. I found it more appealing than the other big Creeds of recent times. I lasted mere hours in Odyssey's ancient Greece, and the same for Valhalla's 9th century England, but much longer in Mirage's golden age Baghdad. That simply comes down to being more into Islamic architecture than Greek myths or Viking longboats. Assassin's Creed, for all its faults and weaknesses, is as close as video games can get to time travel tourism. I'm glad I went on another trip.

I am willing to forgive Expelled! a few glitches in the matrix given the juiciness of its plot and the energy of its telling. I've ultimately had near seven hours of engaging fun with it, which feels ample. Now, far from its golden age inspirations, I'm relying upon that more modern phenomenon: internet sleuths. Solve this case for me so I can watch it on YouTube.

Wanderstop is meticulously thought out in both big- and small-picture ways, and that means it isn’t a straightforward game of a girl getting to put her hands in the soil and run a cute little café and be magically fixed. It’s a game that openly admits to not having all of the answers. It’s a game that feels like the process of working through something.

I was half expecting Suikoden to feel childish but it doesn't. Instead: a prodigious, precocious sprog. A genre in its infancy and prime at once. Sheer fuckin' magic. Two of the most uplifting, absorbing, tragic and sweet JRPG stories ever penned. This is what the human soul is best at.

Story aside, I liked the bits where it was clearly taking a breather to let you screw each other in various ways. Or have a deathmatch. The parts where it winked at you: "We're presenting this as a trust exercise but it's actually so you can let your mate's head bounce off the carpet and cackle about it".

The major design changes in Civ 7 address important criticisms of earlier versions and help to ensure that players are faced with challenges, not tedium, even as the game progresses - albeit at some loss. By the time I wrote this review, I had spent more than 50 hours playing the game - proof enough that despite its flaws, Civilization 7 sustains that “one more turn!” desire to plow through history and see what happens next.

I'm left impressed by Two Point Museum more than I actually enjoyed playing it. It's as thematically endearing as ever (sans the above), crammed with detail, and the new design customisation features are brilliant. But I also think it should have slammed the breaks on shoving in so many new, granular systems. It doesn't take long before you're pulled in too many directions and distracted from the stuff that's actually enjoyable. It makes the game feel sludgier and more calculated and tiresome than its novel and bright coating deserves.

Some of that is Rama's fault, and some of that is the game's, and some of it, again, is my fault for being older than Rama and perhaps, having more in common with him than I care to admit. I suspect that if you are not me, you might relish this more, but please be prepared for a lot of emotional labour.

Wilds is once again a game of hunger and hunting, self-providing, and grinding your nights away against the whetstone of loot. Therein lies both the appeal and danger of Monster Hunter games. They are stuffed with compelling completionist catnip, yet wrapped in a philosophy of busywork. You are killing a very cool monster to get better gloves so you can kill another cool monster for more gloves. I mean, yes, that is video games writ large. And it keeps me sustained on the hamster wheel for a while. I too desire a fashionable suit for my intolerable cat.

The villains are better, the combat feels weightier, it looks better. To top it off, it's cheaper. I don't regret spending time with Majima again but, 'free' NG+ or no, if I'd paid full price for this thing I'd feel well and truly hornswoggled.

Lost Records is bland, derivative, lacks momentum, does not reward player agency, and it twice made me cringe so hard I had to look away from the screen. I wish it was half as long as it is. I wish it had learned to let go of the ideas that have lost their power, like Sarah does in Labyrinth. I wish it had learned you can tell your coming-of-age story about a teenage girl with energy and originality... like Labyrinth. I am, despite all of that, looking forward to finding out whether any of it pays off when the second and final part releases on April 15th.