My overwhelming impression is of a game that wants to set its own pace, its own "high noon" rhythm. And I quite liked that. As a roguelike its quirks will either endear you to it or make you grimace in mild frustration. Its up-and-down pacing, both on and off the battlefield, makes it hard to recommend to people who like their roguelikes snappy. And while I thoroughly enjoyed the cowboy chatter, it might grate on anyone who wants to hurry up and hit the next showdown. It's a slow burn and the opening hour doesn't communicate the intention particularly well. But as anyone who has really tried cooking beans over a fire can testify, once they're warm, they're just fine.

Devil's Hideout still has a compelling atmosphere that makes me overlook its flaws. In its most evocative moments, it reminded me of a Stephen King story, and I'm not just referring to the Pennywise cameo. A city that's lost all of its wholesome Americana and fallen to evil is simply something that King would write about, though Devil's Hideout would probably be one of those '80s King paperbacks where he was coked up and in need of a better editor. Like Kathy Rain, another point and click that had a lot of random horror stuff happening behind the scenes, I feel like Devil's Hideout could benefit from a director's cut at a later date to help flesh out the bits I liked and hammer down the parts I didn't. There's tremendous potential at play in the alleyways of this urban hell, in other words, and even if it was imperfect, I finished Devil's Hideout wanting more - which is not something I've ever desired from an abandoned American city ever before.

Will Smite fans be pleased with the current state of Smite 2? I think so, though you should probably ask one of them. Should non-Smiters check out this sequel? Maybe, if you reckon you’ll play enough to get past the phase where you’re nearly always dunked on. With the currently small hero pool, it’s probably best to get on board soon - though the current lack of tutorials means you’ll have to do your own homework. Should you all be playing Deadlock instead? Yes. Right now Smite 2 is fine, but it doesn’t feel like the future. [Early Access Review]

In short, this is a hulking jaunt through a gauntlet of scum, traitors, filth, and heretics. The social landscape of 40K's galactic hellwar is fuelled primarily by hatred and secondarily by a twisted sense of honour. And it's so overblown it is often Verhoeveningly funny. But within the confines of its own delightful cesspit, the story does its job. It gives us an excuse to see a chaos demon smashing the graves of a thousand unknown souls to pieces. The guns 'n' galumphing likewise serves its weighty purpose. From the perspective of an outsider, this is a well-crafted third-person action game with a story somewhat bloated with lore. From the perspective of a fan, it may be pure ambrosia.

A game that's much more about the 'trucker' of it all than the stars, but the trucker of it all really does shine. When you exit the airlock to patch up hull breaches, little white spanner icons mark the offending damage. The symbol that marks the airlock to return to your truck is a home. I noticed it early, and then I kept noticing it. The more I did, the more perfect it felt.

For those who prefer their logistical twiddling to be more abstract and neat, this isn't going to tear you away from the factory lines of Shapez 2. But it might be worth a pop for those who prefer their number-fiddling to be wrapped up in a thematic purpose. It doesn't have the moral compassing nor the defined flavour of Frostpunk (which, for me, remains the more eye-catching post-apocalyptic city builder). But it does enough with its humble scavengers and salvaging expeditions to at least invest you in the populace as a whole. Even if that concern is always attached to a selfish desire to avoid resources plummeting. [Early Access Review]

At present, Stormgate is a potentially good game that makes a poor first impression. Six missions, only three of which are playable for free, makes neither a good campaign nor a good deal, while the game's most interesting factions are hidden away in the multiplayer, where you need to do a lot of on-the-spot learning to get the most out of them. All that said, I don't think it's a game anybody should write off. Behind its blandifying art style is a very tactically chewy strategy game. If you're a fan of the genre and have friends who are likewise, there's good fun to be had in its 1v1 multiplayer, which I should stress costs nothing to try out. [Early Access Review]

It can be very endearing in these smaller moments, but it still all feels bit false, a bit watery. And it manages to draw out tedium at times that should be breezy.

Once again, I've yet to play a SteamWorld game I didn't like. SteamWorld Heist 2 is not bucking that trend. After 15 hours I still haven't finished it, but my endgame sense is tingling and I'm eager to see it through. If I was asked to name the most reliably entertaining franchise in video games today, I would perhaps point to Thunderful's toybox and say simply: "Them 'uns". These games know what they're doing, they communicate it succinctly, and most importantly, they let the player happily move on when the game is finished. These are not games of "endless replayability", they are toys of endful playability, of conclusiveness, closure and clemency. If switching off after reaching an "ending" in a piece of Destiny 2 DLC is like finishing a McDonalds yet feeling hungry again two hours later, then watching the credits roll on a SteamWorld game is like finishing a decent home cooked meal and walking away full of unthinking contentment. I'm keen to keep sailing north, find a homey pub on the horizon, and eat that final dish.

It’s not free of issues. Necro-surgeon Dessa Banks has an ability that’s so universally useful I ended up anchoring my plays with it for a good stretch, and it wasn’t even the one where she can resurrect people by shooting them. The ending missions prioritise story setpieces over the final exam gauntlet I was hoping for, and I found myself drifting toward autopilot even a few missions before those. There’s probably one too many fat smears of frosting in the conspiratorial layercake plot to comfortably keep track of your first time through. But the fact I’m even excited about a second playthrough of a 15 hour game I played for work should hopefully convey something. This very moment, I keep diving back in to check details and grab screens, and end up replaying entire missions. There’s more! Survival maps. Optional puzzles. The same level editor the developer has, with the option to share your maps with others online. Hard mode. Is this all window dressing? Maybe. But man, what an absolute treat of a window. Do say "hi" on your way down.

Black Myth: Wukong is a triumph. A surprising triumph in the sense that I can't quite believe it's as good as its drip feed of screens and trailers looked over the last few years. It's a generous Soulsy adventure hybrid that works within its limitations and delivers a beautiful challenge to be unpicked with a magical toolbox. Arguably, I'd say Black Myth's world sucked me in more than Elden Ring and Lies Of P, probably more so than anything I've played in ages! This is Game Science bursting onto the scene and saying: "You've got competition". And hey, I'm listening. You should be, too.

I wouldn't normally be so specific about a puzzle, but that moment was less a Crimson Diamond and more a White Whale that I would hate to see anyone else chasing. Otherwise I think The Crimson Diamond is a beautiful piece of work, combining a love letter to the past with a modern implementation, all wrapped up in a mystery that may not have huge, shocking twists, but remains a page turner throughout. And there are bonus geology facts, too! Consider PLAYING THE GAME.

I'm not sure The Crush House is enjoyable, beyond the opening thrill of wielding the lens and toying with the systems, but it is enlightening. It is a triumphant performance of dystopia, one that concentrates the understanding rather than merely wallowing in the shit. It takes enormous insight to make something this ugly.

Consider the real promise of the game then, the underlying fantasy. How thoroughly can you make this talking rat regret its life choices? That’s still a fantastic sell.

The biggest concern for anyone eagerly anticipating this sequel (hi, Graham) is that it can't keep up with the frenetic creativity of the original. And I can safely confirm that this is not a problem for Goo 2. If you were after another silly ride in a lazy river of black gunge, then jump on in. The goo's fine.

By the time its end was away, I was convinced that Thank Goodness You're Here! deserves its place among the canon of British comedy, particularly that which celebrates the bumpkins of our better selves, from Wodehouse to Wallace & Gromit to the Cornetto trilogy. Heck, I haven't even mentioned that it's got Matt Berry doing voices in it. Send it to an American in your life, to show them there's more on our list of cultural exports than irony and failed politicians.

This is the sweetness, I think, that consistently balances out everything that's creepy in this stretch of midnight countryside: along with the promise of cryptids and photo assignments and local cultists and satanic graffiti, Krypta FM promises community, and creates a growing sense of belonging. The names on the forums start to become familiar, and I begin to be able to anticipate the things they might say, the replies they might leave under my posts. The map slowly starts to make sense, and by day three, say, I'm leaving the house pretty confident in the direction I should be headed in. Photo objectives are ticked off my list and the story of what's truly going on out there starts to come into focus. I go to bed buzzing at what I've seen, and the next day, at ten past nine, I'm ready to turn on the radio again and hear that familiar voice.

I do think it's great that Capcom have released a weird, sometimes wonderful tower defence/ action RPG hybrid with such strong early-millennium vibes. And I think some will find its micromanagement more compelling than I did, with base repairs and the gradual power climb forming an easy way to spend an evening with an average-to-good video game. And yet, I also think many will find its take on tower defence only half-delivers. It might be full of distinct elements that often work together, be they base-building or hack 'n' slashing, but as a whole, it falls into a repetitive rhythm that struggles to capture the joys and thrills of much simpler tower defence games.

This game is still worth playing for classic adventure fans, if only to see an indie dev passionately channel the spirit of Sierra's yesteryear in a way that tips a hat to Space Quest while not quite being a Space Quest fangame. In a world where SpaceVenture, the spiritual successor to Space Quest crafted by the original Two Guys from Andromeda, crashed and burned in truly epic fashion, we could use more games like Tachyon Dreams Anthology. I wouldn't mind seeing more of Dodger - perhaps in a focused sequel that sees him abandoning his dishwashing roots and embracing his destiny as an unassuming guardian of the galaxy, just like his grandpa Roger Wilco did before him.

In general Arranger is an imaginative, cheerful, funny game that doesn't outstay its welcome. I think it'll provide a great challenge for puzzle enthusiasts, but it's kind enough to throw at someone who is only just getting into them. In specific, I still haven't been able to solve the optional mine puzzles. But that just makes me want to try again.

It can be tricky to assess the balance in a genre that relies on making you feel hopeless, threatened and, yes, a little bit tilted occasionally. Resources feel plentiful, initially, and so I feasted until famine struck and I had to abandon my first run, which honestly just made me respect Conscript more for committing to it. If this isn’t your bag, there’s four difficulty settings, plus options to enable checkpoints and unlimited saves - in saferooms still, but without needing to use an ink consumable. Also included are mainstays like playthrough ranks and unlockable costumes. And - ohoho! - an honest-to-god digital manual, complete with a blank notes page. Love it. The way I just structured that paragraph now necessitates I make it clear I’m not just saying this because of the manual, but: Conscript is good survival horror. Fill your boots. Check for rats first though, innit.

There’s a climactic rush at the end of the game’s 20-hour runtime, but for the majority, Dungeons of Hinterberg is wonderfully laid-back. There are so many games that romanticize leaving your busy life and escaping to the wilderness, but here the topic is explored in an authentic and genuine way. There’s a lesson here about how rest is fundamental to health and happiness, but I also love how the game communicates that. It’s a gentle, reflective fantasy adventure that’ll have you reaching for your hiking boots.

In practise mine was an entirely solo flight, but I enjoyed it. It's a little repetitive, there are some slight snags where the game might forget that you already hit that story beat and makes you do it again, but Flock is full of good-humour, freedom, and playfulness. It's the sort of thing you wouldn't play all the time, but could check in with after a long day. Tomorrow, you think, I must have a job where I email people. But tonight, I will hunt for that elusive Sprug that pretends to be a fruit.

There's a moment in the second major region when you find yourself at the summit of what is effectively a massive slide, a giddy slope among cliffs thickly lined with rotting crossbowmen. I whooped and slithered all the way to the campsite at the bottom, then located a skull plinth and set about cleansing the heights and discovering more plinths, till at last I could traverse the whole mountainside without getting my feet dirty. It provoked an emotion I hadn't quite felt in Flintlock before: not just admiration of the sturdy craft on show, but delight.

It all ends up feeling like someone pushed a cult classic console gem through a shredder and filled in the space between the strips with silica gel and sausage rusk and self-assessment forms. But its saving grace lies in the fact that it doesn’t feel cynical as much as it feels adherent, almost like its trapped under a pile of norms and necessaries needed for it to exist in the first place. Maybe you'll fancy enduring long enough to find the places where it pokes its curious little head out from under that rubble. The little robot was for mining ore, by the way, so it might help.

And while I wouldn't say the tricks (or the levels themselves) develop a great deal over the course of the game, these are small gripes in the grand scheme. It's just really nice to inhabit the world of a shadowy amphibian and observe our everyday world of material objects as spots to hunker in or paths to exploit. I don't think the relative ease of the puzzling should put people off, either. Instead, it's a journey worth embracing and a comforting reminder that there's always something watching out for us: frogs.

I consider this a kind of grimly hilarious manifestation in the vein of an Alan Moorish act of chaotic development magick, minus the part where the art actually has anything of substance to say about literally anything. That’s fine! Substance isn't always necessary. Those doors were substantial, and you saw what happened to them, didn’t you? Sometimes what Anger Foot does offer is worse than nothing, mind. The concept for the final boss (‘unholy corpulence') is effectively “lol, fat.” You’re funnier than that, mates. I know you are because I’ve just played your game. He keeps trying to knock you into a pool of molten cheese, but this is weak sauce.

When the term "juice" (or "game feel" as it's more ofen called today) was casually coined, it was offered as a reminder to make games pleasing in the hands and eyes and ears of players, so that the player might become more present, more grounded, even in an unreal space. Zenless Zone Zero uses these same principles to encourage the player to live too often in a menu screen. To me it feels like a deeply superficial world. A really cool pair of shoes that sit around in your home, looking great yet going unused because they are uncomfortable and impractical to actually wear.