In a lot of ways, Metroid Dread is exactly the game that people who’ve been waiting 20-odd years for a new 2D Metroid could want: authentic and mostly true to its roots, but with enough new ideas thrown into the fold that it doesn’t just feel like a retread. Given the pedestal that Metroid gets put on, that’s an impressive achievement in itself. But it’s also uneven in that aim, sometimes clinging too closely to the past, and other times losing sight of what made the older games the classics that they are. Ultimately, what you get out of Metroid Dread will depend on what you expect from Metroid in the first place, but if you want an accomplished exploration platformer and can put up with a bit of frustration and narrative bloat along the way, you’re in good hands here.

The rudimentary nature of the game underneath all the moody presentation mean Gynoug’s appeal is probably going to be limited to the most die-hard shoot-’em-up fanatics, historians, and those with a nostalgic connection to it. But that’s all the more reason to preserve it in a readily available, accessible way—and with the suite of conveniences layered over the top of , that’s exactly what Ratalaika Games have achieved.

With Lunar Edition being Black Label-style remix rather than just an updated or enhanced version, it’s a bit of a shame the original Space Moth or DX version aren’t included (especially since they’re not otherwise available on Switch). But, nice as such inclusions would be, they’re far from necessary—a clever twist on classic bullet hell action and systemic interplay that’s a delight to explore make Space Moth: Lunar Edition more than capable of standing on its own.

Upon reaching the end of this review, I’ve come away with a revelation. Yes, Far Cry 6 is the accumulated chemical detritus from years of similar lab experiments, layered and stratified, compounded with time and pressure. But it isn’t a catalyst. I am. I played Far Cry 6 to completion: I pressed buttons to shoot guns and progress the plot; I killed an inordinate number of animals to buy upgrades; I equipped new pairs of pants to make myself stealthier. And at the end of it all, I felt nothing. I was unchanged by the experience.

In a medium that’s so happy to turn war into a frivolous entertainment, it’s rare to see a game actually engage with the realities of war in any meaningful way. You might not expect it from the cute character designs, but that’s exactly what Fuga: Melodies of Steel does, and with remarkable success: weave a harrowing but ultimately hopeful story about the destruction that war leaves in its wake and the desperate lengths people will go to to save those they care about.

Project Zero: Maiden of Black Water isn’t scary so much as haunting, and that’s an important distinction. Where plenty of horror games begin and end with trying to scare the pants off their players, this one looks for something much deeper, and turns to the long, rich history of yūrei folklore to find it. That’s what I missed when I first played it five years ago, but a remaster is a perfect opportunity to revisit and reassess—and I’m so glad I did. This is a game that deserves a far better reception than it originally got, and I just hope I’m not alone in giving it the benefit of the doubt a second time round.

The end result is a remarkable, powerful game. Life is Strange: True Colors stays true to the series’ roots, using supernatural twists and an underlying mystery as the backdrop for a story that’s focused on the quiet beauty of everyday life and the connections that form between people. Within that, it carves its own path with a moving exploration of the power of empathy and the importance of finding a place to call home.

All this makes Crisis Wing a game that will appeal to a very particular niche—there’s certainly an audience for shmups with a particularly old-school flavour like this one. But design that feels a little too constrained, a lack of features that are now standard even in retro-styled shooters, and a tedious approach to difficulty make it a tough sell, even within that space.

The Caligula Effect 2 isn’t a sequel I ever saw coming: a follow-up to one of the most overlooked, underrated games of the last few years. It follows closely in its predecessor’s footsteps, and while it could never hope to be quite as groundbreaking, it still finds ways to bring a fresh perspective to the moral philosophy and psychological exploration at the heart of the series. It still won’t be for everyone, but nor is it trying to be—and anyone who likes JRPGs that break from the mold and leave them with something to think about is in for something special.

G-Darius HD does an impressive job of what matters the most: keeping a classic arcade game alive and readily available for old hats to revisit and new generations to discover. And for something as groundbreaking as G-Darius—something that can still make an impression today, almost 25 years since it first hit arcades—that history is an important thing to hold on to.

Between stunning performances, a sharp new script, gorgeous, cinematic presentation, and the fluid action that ties everything together, it tells that story beautifully. Xuan Yuan Sword may not be a well-known name in the west, but it should be—and Xuan Yuan Sword 7 is a wonderful demonstration of why.

That playful little side-story aside, the ideas at play in Finale are ones that Mary Skelter has been running with since the beginning: of hope and despair, of fate and free will, of fetishism and transgression. Finale doesn’t try to change that; rather, as the dramatic conclusion to the trilogy, takes those ideas to new extremes that enthrall and (deliberately) repulse in equal measure. I still wish it went further, and took the opportunity given by the earlier games’ endings to truly push the boundaries, but failing that, the more-is-more approach works just fine. And with the neat twists that the multi-party setup brings to the dungeon crawler formula to tie it all together, Mary Skelter Finale is a great send-off to one of thee most unique, memorable settings in recent videogame memory.

In a genre that’s grown crowded in recent years, Patron finds a way to stand out with deep, intricate social systems that build cleverly on city builder foundations. The limited information tools and lack of any sort of scenario mode make it feel a little rudimentary, but the quirks of the social system and the way it interacts with everything else make this worth a look.

Otomate has a rare gift for weaving together enchanting, sexy romance and thoughtful, often challenging themes. Olympia Soiree is as fine an example of that as any, using its romantic themes to go down some dark, confronting roads—but roads that need to be travelled, to say things that need to be said, and ultimately ending up in a hopeful place. And with the studio’s penchant for sublime artwork, sharp writing, and absolutely gorgeous character designs, it’s an enthralling journey from start to finish.

Despite its fiddly interface and a farming side of things that’s a bit underwhelming, Staxel’s open-ended nature and creative potential make it an enjoyable outing in blocky rural life.At the very least, it shows the potential in this idea of a life sim block-building game: even if it doesn’t get the balance quite right, creative freedom and the laid-back, satisfying rhythm of farm life go hand-in-hand.

The transient nature of the microgame concept means WarioWare: Get It Together, isn’t the kind of thing you’d want to pull out for a long haul, but for short bursts of pure, chaotic delight—especially with friends—you can’t go wrong. It’s surprising that it’s taken this long for Wario and his crew to become playable characters in their own game, but their unique abilities (and flaws) are a welcome twist on the frantic nature of WarioWare‘s rapid-fire minigames.

Ultimately, that’s what How Buddy’s Parents Met is: an enjoyable collection of jigsaws that come together to form a sweet little picture book tale of two people falling in love (and the cute cat who gets to bask in that love). It’s simple, relaxing fun—nothing more, nothing less. Sometimes, that heartwarming comfort food is all you really need.

Deathloop is a rewarding and ambitious experience that smartly combines Arkane’s immersive sim bedrock with a fluid nonlinear structure. Its smooth gameplay and naturalistic narrative stylings are interrupted by lacklustre PC performance, though it fulfils a puzzle-box Groundhog Day fantasy few other games have been ambitious enough to touch.

Tales of Arise is a phenomenal game: an engrossing story, the best combat the Tales series has seen to date, and art direction that's nigh unmatched in its sheer beauty. But, impressive as those things are, what really sets this game apart—what really marks this as a bold new vision for the series—is how cleverly it twists JRPG conventions to unpack that well-worn "evil empire" trope. Tales of Arise is more than just a brilliant game; it's a nuanced, insightful thesis on the mechanisms of oppression and liberation.

There’s a definite appeal in its cozy atmosphere and oddball characters, and the story about a community banding together to save what’s important to them is a heartfelt one. The minigames are a lot of fun, and what they lack in the precision you’d expect of a full-fledged arcade game, they make up for in sheer charm. But it’s also a game that leans a little too heavily into the quirky style of the “wholesome game” meme at the expense of substance and depth.

But even if it doesn’t always hit that mark, Arietta of Spirits still shows how well a short-form Zelda-like game can work, and with so many games competing for time and attention, that’s an exciting prospect that I’d love to see explored further. More importantly, this is a game that has a poignant story to tell about coping with loss and treasuring what’s dear to you—the kind of intimate tale that benefits from a less-is-more approach, and in daring to go small in a genre you’d normally associate with grand, world-saving adventures, Arietta of Spirits carves a memorable, heartfelt journey.

If you want to play something that scratches that life sim itch while also breaking away from the Harvest Moon mold just a little bit, you can’t go too far wrong with My Time At Portia. It suffers here and there from the simple fact that it’s an adaptation of a game that wasn’t designed around touchscreens to begin with, but this is still a more than serviceable port of a very enjoyable game.

Fans of the original can now rest easy, knowing that the sequel they wanted, for the best part of two decades, has finally come to fruition, and it’s everything they could have wanted, and more. Psychonauts 2‘s story is deeper, more heartfelt, and wonderfully compelling. The mechanics and concepts in the original have greatly improved (although not without its minor issues), and the characters and their personalities exude bucketloads of charm. Without a doubt, this game will be on a number of game of the year nominations. Better sixteen years late than never.

Cotton Reboot is the way to do a remake. It’s a bold reimagining of a cult classic, one that remains authentic to the cheeky, playful energy of the original game, but isn’t afraid to rework it to a significant degree and introduce an inventive new scoring system, creating an exciting new shmup outing in the process. But by including the original game, faithfully preserved and presented on equal footing, the remake never tries to replace the original. They’re different sides of the same coin, each serving a different purpose but providing the perfect complement to one another—and also laying the groundwork for when Cotton Rock ‘n’ Roll: Superlative Night Dreams lands later this year.

There really isn’t anything bad to say about Unavowed. It’s one of the most confident adventure games released in a long while. It shows that developer Wadjet Eye have a keen understanding of not only narrative structure, but of the adventure genre as a whole. If you’re looking for an earnest, fully-realised adventure game that harkens back to the genre’s roots, while also putting deftly-written, three-dimensional characters at its forefront, then look no further.

At times, Where the Heart Leads crafts an interesting narrative on the complexities of family relationships, and how the decisions one makes can have consequences. I enjoyed the plots between Whit and his immediate family members, and the possibilities his decisions can create that might benefit everyone—but much like real life, the game also reinforces the concept that you can’t please everyone, and the story plays out as such. But being inundated with other characters that I felt I had to talk to, and text that felt needlessly drawn out, evolved the dialogue-heavy game from a customised narrative into a bit of a chore. Where the Heart Leads is a game with its pros and cons, so it’s hard for me to veer my review of this game from middling.

Technical struggles in the open world aside, No More Heroes III proves its worth as a brutally satisfying and subversive action game with magnificent boss fights and hilarity in spades.

Samurai Warriors has long been a vessel for an exciting delve into the Sengoku era—one that, despite its extravagances, always puts authenticity at its core. That’s truer than ever in Samurai Warriors 5, with a new, more dramatic approach to storytelling and a singular focus on the legacy of Nobunaga Oda, and the way it balances an extremely divisive historical reputation is nothing short of remarkable. With some welcome refinements to the endlessly enjoyable action-strategy game at the Warriors series’ core to round out the package, this is a fantastic new direction for Samurai Warriors.