On its surface, Moncage does so many things I like. Its narrative is conveyed through interaction, rather than through text or cutscenes. Its predominant mechanic is clever. It’s short. But it stands as an example of just how easily a game can be undone by only one or two critical shortcomings. There’s a world in which a few chewy brain teasers would be enough for me to overlook some one-dimensional characters–this is a puzzle game after all. One-dimensional puzzles, though, are harder to forgive.

Decent production value and acting are all this has going for it. Even so, Bloodshore is one of many projects that don’t ever have to be interactive, and unfortunately, it won’t be the last of its kind.

Despite Sheltered 2’s attempts to pander to this crowd, it largely fails to bring any new ideas to the table. Its mindless interactivity with its post-apocalyptic world, combined with an obtuse crafting system, has resulted in a game that is more annoying than tantalising.

A historical video game prioritises and engages with contemporary agency and understanding of the past over the historical document. The Amazing American Circus is not even a historical document, but a media text taking the form of a video game.

As an Early Access title, Death Trash is still incomplete, with a few more chapters still in development and waiting to be unveiled. But even then, it’s a game that’s incredibly easy to sink your teeth into. Its backdrop of debauchery, monster flesh and body horror, while not altogether foreign, conjures a compelling image of humankind in a parasitic relationship with our post-apocalyptic host. We often hear of hostile worlds that want to kill us, but not so much of civilisations that are slowly and literally devouring the planet, as they rip apart the still-breathing planet muscle by muscle. Death Trash shows us that our insatiable hunger makes us the biggest threat, even as the world is in the throes of death. [Early Access Review = 85]

Ultimately The Protagonist: EX-1 is another addition to the turn-based strategy game that requires no strategy, with a squad that provides no interest. I cannot begin to care enough about this game to continue playing it, and cannot find a reason to recommend it.

Outsider: After Life shows in its opening section that it knows what it’s doing. The process of repairing HUD-ini is finely tuned, and sets up intrigue for what comes next. It’s a shame that it only gives way to increasingly repetitive, sometimes painful gameplay, and mismatched pieces of story that don’t quite fit into the full picture.

There is a reasonable game lurking somewhere inside Radio Viscera. The early knockings were enough to show me that there is a lot of fun to be had with this concept. However, the attempts at including variety often miss the mark, and a string of technical problems exacerbate the game’s shortcomings. It is certainly a novel attempt to subvert the genre, but, ultimately, it falls incredibly short. Instead, it makes me yearn for a more traditional twin-stick shooter, even if that would offer no surprises.

Promesa attempts to convey a moving, intergenerational tale through its spaces, as it shuttles the player to various locales, interspersing these journeys with quotes shared by a grandfather to his grandchild. You don’t really need to do much; you just walk until you can’t anymore, and then you’ll be transported to the next place. But these spaces are also mostly devoid of meaningful context; I wasn’t even aware I was reading a familial conversation until I read the synopsis on a website. Then there are the purportedly haunting and surreal spaces, which are as sparse and lifeless as the memories you’re supposedly traversing through, having been mostly constructed with far too little subtleties to pique my curiosity. Compounded by the absolutely glacial speed I was travelling at, and I found myself making an early exit.

Rather than a full-bodied explosion, every gunshot is instead akin to the gentle patter of raindrops on concrete pavements–an almost maudlin description that’s probably the furthest thing RAZE 2070 wants to be known for. Much less can be said about its android enemies, which more closely resemble crash test dummies than the high tech cyborgs of sci-fi shooters. Then there is its introduction video–a snapshot into RAZE 2070’s intergalactic setting–which is made up of mostly stock footage of space from sites like Getty Images. Probably.

On the surface, Garbage is a homeless fighting simulator that carries parallels to Punch Club: train hard, win fights, and take showers–the only twist being that you’re a homeless man who now has to live next to the dumpster. But take a closer look beyond its hood, and you’ll find that Garbage is a game that is barely serviceable.

I suspect Of Bird and Cage works best as an album first, and maybe a speed runner video as a distant second. Perhaps by the end Gritta escapes her prison and finds the support she needs to reclaim the light of her life in one of the possible endings, but given the oppressively deep hole she starts in, I’m not convinced that the game believes she deserves it. Though she most certainly does.

I anticipated a touching, engrossing tale of a heartbreaking and folkloric haunt. What I got was a bog-standard, overly conservative horror game mired by mechanics more ancient than the game’s late 1800’s setting. Like the lifeless meatbags which stalk its murky hallways, Maid of Sker is best avoided.

Voxel Battle Simulator wants you to pit tiny little voxel pixel armies against one another in an all-out competitive battle. You are given an amount of money to defend your base with, from the most basic of infantry that battle on foot, to artileries that can fling munitions across a vast distance. Once you’ve deployed them, you can watch them clash with the opposing team, both armies yelling with all the excitement and confusion of overly energetic puppies as they do so, and unlock more defenses with the spoils of war. However, while the game functions on a fundamental level, it’s barely compelling or innovative enough to keep me playing.

Parallels will be made between AnShi and Journey, which is a bit unfair. For a start, AnShi is the brainchild of a single developer. Second, the protagonist of Journey never had a hoverboard, which for AnShi, is a literal game-changer. I would caution anyone looking to recapture their experience with Journey to consider AnShi on its own uniquely alien merit, or otherwise brace for disappointment. Ultimately, AnShi wowed me with its otherworldly vistas and sweeping soundtrack, but its meandering plot left me wanting more.

For those that want an in-depth city builder, Per Aspera is perhaps not the right game, especially as it constantly battles with the ethicality and morality of its very conceit. For those who want a rich sci-fi experience, the clash between the complexity of the problem and the simplicity of the mechanics may cause players to find themselves stuck in a progress bottleneck. Regardless of these criticisms, it’s impossible to write off Per Aspera because it attempts something novel and is so close to sticking the landing that its namesakes seem incredibly fitting – “through adversity to the stars” -there are plenty of hardships here, but in the end, it reaches an unlikely, dazzling goal via its storytelling.

Haven is a game about taking time out – it’s about staring into the endless mesh of rust and stars and considering where you are, who you’re with and where the both of you want to be. Some of the mechanics are a little rough around the edges, and the overall experience doesn’t quite feel perfect. But neither are relationships – Haven explores one that’s really special, and I’m beyond grateful to have spent time with it.

With its numerous glitches and flaws, Broken Porcelain instead becomes a superfluity of horror game tropes; its cheap jump scares, laboured stealth encounters, and confusing plot now an unfortunate fixture of what used to be a promising survival horror series.

These criticisms may be a personal taste thing (tough, I’m the reviewer), but genuinely, if you’re looking for a small puzzle-box game like The Room or GNOG, this might tick a few boxes. It will satisfy in much the same way as a Rubik’s cube or a wooden puzzle does but somehow manages to be a bit more obnoxious. Younger players especially may see the value in this, and it certainly has a place, just don’t expect to find yourself moved and bereft afterwards – you’ll probably just want to make a cup of tea and get on with your day.

While what’s there is a lot of fun, and all of it is incredibly stylish, I can’t really recommend you pick it up in its current form. That being said, if you’re in the market for an incredibly stylish game with some very fun power-ups and combat, then maybe HAAK will keep you entertained for a few hours. [Early Access Provisional Score = 70]

Altogether, this makes Dungeons of Naheulbeuk a real mixed bag. Its slick and well-observed aesthetic is undercut by rote humour and tired cliche, and its combat has great potential smothered by layers of random chance and obfuscation, with the great swell of combatants meaning that you can sit helplessly as a cavalcade of attacks all target and take down a character before you have a chance to act. There’s definitely something here to enjoy if you’re a diehard tactics fan with a keen eye for optimum strategy and luck mitigation, but it feels like a lot of effort for little reward.

It’s easy to see what Ary is aiming for. The ambition is certainly there, but the execution is off. Way off. At best it’s a clunky mess. At worst it’s broken and near-unplayable. It’s clear Ary was in need of a few more seasons of development before release.

No Straight Roads won’t impress punk fans with its devotion to palatability and conventions; it’s not wont to hollering “F*ck off nazi punks“ and pointing a middle finger to the authority and the Man. Instead, it’s content with embodying the irreverent goofiness of pop-punk bands, with the dynamic duo of Zuko and Mayday making loud, emotional proclamations about saving rock music against the tyranny of EDM without a sliver of irony. It’s all the more charming for its lack of pretension, and the polished veneer of its absolutely heady soundtrack, which is perfectly in sync with the intoxicating rhythm of its boss battles, makes this a game worth headbanging to.

The often severe frame drops and occasional bugs that led me to restart a level aren’t that big of an issue, and they can be always be fixed after launch. But the specific tone around the game, and the message it leaves as it neglects to listen to the learned lessons in the past few years from similar experiences in the indie sphere, can’t be solved with a patch.

Thankfully, walking around The Terminal a lot is not required to see the main plot to its conclusion, which is the star of the game. So don’t let what is ultimately an inconvenience keep you away from Necrobarista. This is a visual novel worth your time, not that it’ll ask for much of it in the first place.

Like many other life simulators, Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town will probably benefit from sunk cost fallacy (if you make it past the first 20 hours, why not another 20?), but if you want a farm sim to wholeheartedly commit to, seek your pleasure elsewhere.

It’s been seven years since we first saw Ys: Memories Of Celceta but this PS4 remaster proves a welcome return for Nihon Falcom’s juggernaut franchise. Bringing us real-time combat, an enjoyable storyline packed with humour and appealing visuals, Ys is a must-have for JRPG fans. Whilst there’s no new content for those who previously beat it, MOC remains a thoroughly enjoyable title and, old fan or new, comes strongly recommended.

I can think of no better descriptor for the game than candy floss. There is no substance, no depth, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t taste good or isn’t pretty to look at. However, I can’t help but feel like this game would be too hard and frustrating for most young children. Conversely, it doesn’t have much of anything to appeal to anyone over the age of six. In the end, I can’t really recommend the game, and the fact that it depicts the genocide of an entire race with the gleeful candour of the Androids from Dragon Ball Z really doesn’t help.