It’s comfy and I can play for hours, but it’s just not that deep.

It’s been a long while since I’ve wanted to climb a leaderboard quite as much as I do right now.

The biggest drawback to Snowfall, much like After Dark, is that it will probably find a way to clash with one or two of your favourite custom additions. But if you’re a modder, I guess you already live life on the edge. Otherwise, it’s a charming and worthwhile expansion for what is already an excellent city-builder. I have nothing but warmth for it in my heart.

Layers of Fear is an effective scare ‘em up but the sense of dislocation and the lack of character development left me feeling as if I’d enjoyed a thematically messy series of shocks rather than a cohesive horror story. It’s a collection of scary things that are tangentially related to the idea of creative blocks and familial cruelty rather than an exploration of the artist or his personality flaws. By the time the credits rolled, I knew very little about this particular painter that I couldn’t have learned by reading a brief synopsis.

When played locally with others or when the netcode is as good as it can be, Street Fighter V is an astonishingly good fighting game. Simplified without being dumbed down, deep without being utterly impenetrable, it’s as good as the series has ever been. I’m glad that there’s no need for a number at the bottom of this review because how do you score this game? In many ways, it’s the perfect fighting game, an easy 10, but it is woefully lacking in some areas. Waiting for content to be added to the game sucks, but what’s a month when you could be playing this for many, many years to come.

The buggy, like the rooftops, is a temporary form of safety. All of the enhancements in the latest edition – new loot, new levels, new end-game excess – are icing on the cake. Dying Light is about creating moments of safety, empowerment and comedic triumph in a world that wants nothing more than to tear you down, and The Following is a perfect expansion of that central tenet.

Coldwood did put their hearts into Unravel and I can definitely feel that when I play. But despite his woollen charm, Yarny stayed well away from my own heart strings.

Firewatch is a rare and beautiful creation, that expands the possibilities for how a narrative game can be presented, without bombast or gimmick. It’s delicate, lovely, melancholy and wistful. And very, very funny. A masterful and entrancing experience.

I’ve been having a hard time lately; I’ll spare you the details other than to say that I felt significantly better for every moment that I spent in American Truck Simulator’s America. That’s my highest recommendation.

Much like 80 Days, Sorcery stands as a great example of what text can do, the more fun bits of gamebooks between the bullshit bits, and an excellent classic adventure that soon becomes a fascinating modern RPG in its own right. No dice, scribbled margin notes, or agonising little paper-cuts required.

This is a steaming pile of shit.

Lego Marvel Avengers is very much what they’ve already been, but with most of the magic missing.

Under its surface there’s a complexity to Cobalt’s systems and a surprising depth that will keep you playing.

XCOM 2 is an improvement on its predecessor in every way and the vast majority of those improvements have been applied so intelligently that they risk making Enemy Unknown obsolete. That game was a smart remake of a classic. XCOM 2 is a classic in its own right and as good a sequel as I can remember.

Rise is a strong and confident step forward for the new series, but I’m still unconvinced it’s heading in a direction that I particularly like. This new Lara Croft is in danger of becoming a character constantly in the act of becoming something with no clear idea of how to portray that thing once she arrives.

You’ll lose lives, money, resolve and the marbles of your crew, before you’re back at the hamlet with nothing to show, no further forward, another four bodies resigned to the graveyard. You’ll incessantly tour a ragtag mob of reluctant rookies into foregone conclusions. You’ll laugh at the fact you’ve wound up with a nymphomaniac alcoholic who is barred from both the Tavern and the Brothel. You’ll cry. And cry and cry and cry. But I think you’ll love it.

So yes, should the maths homework weirdoness be part of your make-up, and in your case be matched by ability, then is a snap at £1.59.

Deserts of Kharak does manage to be standalone as well as prequel to an old series, and if you’re tired of the twitchy frenzy which grips so many latter-day RTSes, Kharak is a smart and beautiful destination whether or not you still dream of Hiigara. It might be set on land, but by recent RTS standards it’s nonetheless reaching for the stars.

Were it built with more skill, with a greater flow of movement and one hell of a graphical upgrade, and then given a dose of writing that wasn’t horribly reminiscent of its sister show, this could have been quite the thing. And yet, I enjoyed myself at moments, before wearying of its weaknesses toward the end. Fascinating that it came this close.

There are so many smart ideas in here, and the concept is neat, even if obviously derivative. But the execution doesn’t hold it together, with disappointing responses to extremes, and a strangely anticlimactic progression. I feel like if this were given another six months, the game could be as interesting to play as it is in ambition. But as it is, it’s not there.

Oxenfree was an unexpected delight for me. Atmospheric, beautiful and with the ability to feel real connections between its characters.

It’s a tougher, bigger, deeper and more elaborate evolution of an already great idea.

There are many good things within Massive Chalice, but they’re frustratingly kept at arm’s length from me.

I almost walked away during the opening moments, when Sylvio seems like yet another cobbled together mess of repetitive graphical assets. I figured I’d play until the first jump scare and then quit. Instead, I found a game that uses its limited resources to find clever ways to scare the life out of me. It’s a quiet horror game – an anti-screamer, right down to the calm almost-whispers of the protagonist – and it’s a triumph.

Lego Jurassic World ends up being a middling entry for TT’s enormous franchise, but a middling entry by them is still enormously better than most other family games.

As well as being a superb detective game, Her Story might be the best FMV game ever made.

Though simple, Lethis comes across as modern and thoughtful, not chained to nostalgia. I’ve enjoyed my time with it for the most part, but I’m ready to part company with it now: I feel I’ve seen everything and any revisit would simply be repetition. I’d love to see its art approach applied to something a little more organic, though.

When playing DMC4: SE you can see how certain parts of the design had grown archaic. How even Dante, as wonderfully flamboyant as ever, was skirting a razor’s edge of self-parody. And how, perhaps, Capcom’s DMC team felt they had reached their limits with the series. This Dante is the product of so many years of refinement that he feels complete. It makes this the kind of game where, despite all the little problems, mastering the core system is so rewarding they just stop mattering. And it’s something of a full stop, for now at least, on one of Capcom’s most original series.