Rivals of Aether does excellently what every fighting game should achieve: being a joy to play and watch.

The biggest issue is just the lack of overall assistance. Sands of Salazaar opens the door, pushes you through, and says “have fun!” before running away and leaving you to figure everything out on your own. Gradually realizing how things work is part of the adventure, though when some of those things include basics such as how to use skills, it’s not quite so fun. These are all issues Han-Squirrel can resolve over time, though. Until then, Sands of Salazaar’s layers and intriguing character stories more than make up for the annoyances, especially for the asking price.

All in all, Wolfstride demonstrates how great a game can be when the characters in it are full of personality, and also succeeds in presenting a combat system that’s fun and challenging, without losing simplicity. Its characters are a bunch of lovely, lowly criminals that conduct themselves kind of aimlessly through life, failing upwards more than progressing, and perhaps, under all that rubbish you can find actually nice people with complex minds and even more complicated lives. But of course, Wolfstride is, first and foremost, a game about mechas demolishing each other, and the game never lets you forget it.

It wouldn’t be fair to Mechajammer not to acknowledge everything it tries to do and bring to the table, but in a world where I’m spoiled for choice when it comes to roleplaying games, mediocre just doesn’t cut it. In its current state, mediocre is the best that Mechajammer can hope to be. On paper, Mechajmmer has everything it needs to be a sleeper hit, but in reality, the only thing it’s hitting is the very bottom of my Steam library, where games I don’t finish go to be forgotten.

Clone Drone in the Danger Zone is both good fun, but also somewhat surprising in the story it tells. There’s a lot more to it than just swinging a sword around, but even if there wasn’t, having a big old flaming sword or a giant hammer and then slashing and smashing enemy bots is more than satisfying enough to hold most people’s attention.

Overall, Heavenly Bodies is a triumphant puzzle game. Its setting and premise are novel and excellently executed. The games succinct 5-7 playtime allows the game to not overstay its welcome and the excellent theming gives sensibility to what would otherwise be wholly nonsensical mechanics. Heavenly Bodies is a welcome addition to an already vibrant indie puzzle scene.

What you’re left with is a decent game, and that’s disappointing because it could have been more. For some reason, Paradox played it safe and didn’t build on its own and the game’s strengths. If you want a different take on the genre, it’s worth picking up on sale, but there are better and more interesting examples to spend your time and money on.

There is plenty of fun to be had with Hammerting. The aesthetic is delightful, and when everything works as intended, time joyfully slips away. However, the aforementioned issues frequently rear their ugly heads and immediately halt the enjoyment as you’re forced to try and work around it. Despite the full release status, it still feels like Hammerting is in Early Access since it lacks the polish of some of its peers.

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.

On one hand, there are aspects that are brilliant and can fill you with great satisfaction when every piece of the puzzle falls into place. On the other hand, when the immersion is broken by obnoxious or random ways of finding the next clue, you’ll find your enjoyment of each case diminished.

I liked Unpacking very much. It’s complicated, but it’s as simple as a peanut butter sandwich, toasted in the sandwich press that you got three apartments ago.

Tunche best serves fans and friends of dishing knuckle sandwiches together, but doesn’t synchronise its genre mashups in a way that elevates it above the many RPG-tinted beat ‘em ups stomping around out there.

Even though I don’t see myself swapping out my go-to “rainy day” games like Stardew Valley or Moonlighter for Moonglow Bay anytime soon, I’m also not ready to say that I definitely won’t. The amount of progress that the game made in just a week and a single patch has given me nothing but hope for its future, and it’s a game I’ll be keeping an eye on in the weeks to come. Moonglow Bay also supports local coop, and while I’ll always support anything that allows me to play with friends, the game feels like an almost personal experience that I didn’t ever feel the urge to invite someone to share with me. So with that, I’ll leave you with my closing thoughts of Moonglow Bay: Not bad, cod be better.

These puzzles are the bite-sized, whimsical charm that propel Where Cards Fall, but it could still do with cutting the fat off its mind-boggling puzzles. Each time you’ve completed one of them, you’ll be introduced to an unskippable and largely non-interactive cutscene on some pivotal memory of the teenage protagonist, which feels like an obligatory and unnecessary inclusion after a while. My attention wanes, and I’m quite ready to move on from whatever larger-than-life dramatics, tenderness and awkwardness of the protagonist’s teenage years.

Ultimately, the only flaw was the sensation of wanting more of The Sundew. While its length can feel underwhelming, it is still an achievement since it’s developed by one person, which is even more admirable after seeing the quality of the final product. The fact that the game left me craving for more adventures like this speaks volumes of the developer’s dedication, as well as a testament to the beautifully presented cyberpunk adventure of The Sundew.

The neatest trick that Midnight Protocol pulled is that even if it probably does not depict hacking in the most realistic or accurate manner, it still encapsulates the fascination that most of us have around hacking.

Though the process of playing it can occasionally drift into tedium, it’s worth working through the repetition to see the game to its eventual conclusion. In Grotto your choices matter. But they matter in the same way your choices matter in the real world: in ways you can’t see in the moment and may never see at all.

Between its inspired sonics and literally off-the-wall goofiness, Heartless Dark is an admirable effort I wish I could recommend without reservation, but without knowing how reliably it will run, I can only hope it gets better in time. For now at least, proceed with caution.

Overall, Astria Ascending feels like a missed opportunity. Despite these issues, the game does right by its art direction and world-building, but the fundamental gameplay drags the whole experience down towards mundanity. Having to wait for the seven enemies in front of you to status lock you to death isn’t challenging and engaging combat; it’s tedious. Jumping through dungeons hoping to find a doorway that leads to the next area isn’t interesting trial-and-error exploration; it’s dreadful. In the JRPG marketplace that’s filled with all sorts of storytelling quirks and eccentricities, tedium is simply no longer acceptable.

Freebird games have always been funny in a gentle way that doesn’t clash with the games’ tender yet challenging emotional core. In Impostor Factory, the team has taken a big swing by including full-on horror, as well as a complex meta-story involving the nature of science and time itself. And the humor is both slapstick and risky, letting players release tension as they explore the gore and mind-bending moral conundrums posed by the game’s story. The boxing cat and the sentient rice cooker are a welcome bonus.

I love bad games. But The Good Life doesn’t fall into this category of bad-fun, it’s simply too much of a mess. Did anyone say no to anything in the course of refining the core concept of this game? Probably not. Is it even fun? I still don’t know because even after 8 to 10 hours, I feel stuck between a begrudging sense of sunk-cost fallacy and possible Stockholm syndrome as someone who also once faced ruinous debt and an unwanted move. Honestly, there’s no such thing as a good life unless you have paws, eat garbage and can pee freely in public, but you don’t need to play this game to know that.

I like Into the Pit a fair bit. The graphical style is nice, the combat is incredibly fluid, and the mechanics there are easy to understand, but also have a noticeable effect when spawning new dungeons. However, I also found it to be a little bit too easy for the most part. The game requires a lot of runs in order to rescue more villagers and max out your character, and it doesn’t do quite enough to keep you drawn in versus other similar games.

Ultimately. I can’t say I expected much from AAA Clock. It ticks off the necessary features, bringing a functional clock to the Switch with some nice cosmetic touches, but after a tedious run of the Retro Game, I’m ready to clock out.

The Plane Effect is a fine and even beautiful mechanical object, but it doesn’t quite have a soul. It is a shame perhaps, because with a bit less open space, without the spectres who are never quite made substantial, I think that the automaton might have been enough, regardless of whether or not there was a ghost in the machine.

At its core, Gloomhaven is a deep tactical experience that’s immensely satisfying once you get to grips with its layers upon layers of systems. It also includes multiple options to vary the difficulty, so newer players don’t feel overly punished by making mistakes, whilst strategy aficionados can dial up the challenge to match their ability.

Even while the gorgeous alien botany is alluring and forms the artistic backbone of this curious little game, I found myself wanting more options—perhaps a narrative mode for players focused on the world and its strange inhabitants—and a change of pace.

Creating a game about making a home on foreign land was never going to be easy, and JETT had boldly sought to subvert the themes of colonialism that are so inherent to tales like these. But upon putting down the controller, I mostly felt let down by how little it had to say on the subject. While it touches on other topics, such as the terrifyingly big expanse of space, versus our miniscule existence in the greater scheme of things, these weren’t enough to make up for its flaws. In the end, I just wish JETT had the confidence to pursue what I know it wants to be: to subvert expectations on the well-trodden ground of survival stories.

By the time the final credits roll on The Artful Escape, it’s a challenge to succinctly summarise what you’ve just experienced. It’s a game without a genre, one composed of familiar elements blended in an unfamiliar way, creating something that is uniquely its own. It’s been a long time coming since The Artful Escape was given its initial glimpse of what was in store, but when it’s all said and done, it leaves the audience satisfied but still wanting just a little more. Like any good concert.

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.

It’s a bit disappointing to see that In Sound Mind doesn’t quite transcend outdated horror tropes, even though it has the potential to. But that doesn’t take away from the accomplishments that make it more intriguing than many contemporary titles: its thought-provoking puzzles, and its attempts to tell an engaging story without unnecessarily scaring you to death first.

Had it been stripped away of some of its convoluted system, and instead focused on one or two features and story beats to go alongside its high level of polish and presentation, Unsighted would be a GOTY contender. But in trying desperately to be everything, Unsighted loses sight of the aspects that make it unique in an ever-expanding marketplace of retro-inspired Mentroidvanias. As a result, it’s an enjoyable, but ultimately forgettable experience.

Blake: The Visual Novel was a promising debut from Ori Mees; Blake made me laugh a few times, and stressed me out over making the right decisions at other points. I felt compelled to read it through to the end, which is more than I can say for other visual novels I’ve muddled through recently. Even though Blake definitely displays the tell-tale, first-project symptom of doing too much in too little time, it has definitely convinced me to keep an eye on the developer’s future projects.

On the whole, Arboria is a fun spin on the largely established roguelike formula, using its overgrown dark and dank setting to create a series of inventive mechanics, which means that no two runs are ever the same.

Making an interactive facsimile of Moebius’ style is a daunting task. While it isn’t always a slam dunk, Sable provides handsome eye candy, encouraging you to climb mountains for the view alone. The anticipated score from Japanese Breakfast is even more versatile, stringing the wasteland with theremin, accordions, shoegaze and desert psych. It’s a shame that the initial glider sounds like loose change in a dryer, so I encourage players strictly seeking to vibe to trade up for better parts as soon as they can.

In the end, Black Book is one game that feels like a great representation of its genre for the uninitiated. It’s a game that exudes charm, despite the depressing landscape it’s set in. Its premise is a perfect match for novice deck-builders, as it creates a solid foundation of understanding for those looking to break into similar experiences.

Perhaps Eastward’s greatest strength is that it isn’t complicated—gameplay is at once deeply warm and familiar without fading into stale territory, which is surprisingly tricky for a game that presents itself as a spiritual successor to the Zelda legacy. Eastward in motion is an unstoppable force, an exquisitely-animated homage to old-school RPGs that more than compensates for its writing and narrative

The VR focus allows for a portrayal of human ennui and general hopelessness on a large scale; here is a whole subculture of people running from an unfavorable reality, hoping to eke out a marginally better virtual existence even if the only way to access it is to buy the equipment and pay for a subscription. It’s a good setting that I would be curious to see more of, even if Gamedec’s initial exploration of it stumbles out of the gate and comes alarmingly close to a total faceplant.

It’s all genuinely a lot of fun. I do think there’s probably a little too much challenge for some people, and the short campaign won’t keep everyone’s attention, but for those who like to look cool and seek high scores, Severed Steel is going to be as hard to resist as an arm cannon through a flimsy window.

It’s far from the typical hero’s journey. In this game you’re just a kid who listens to cassette tapes, and now has an old camera to document that adventure with. It reminded me of my summer trips to the Isle of Wight, making my own fun in ways only children can.

SkateBIRD is a beautiful and heartwarming game, and it’s something that will stay with me for years to come.

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.

Can Androids Survive is a game that is working to be a simulator (an unruly hybrid in the best of cases) that positions itself as a sequel to a story. If it doesn’t really quite pull any of these things off successfully, there is at least some consolation in the fact that in the end, as promised, the player gets to blow up the moon. I’m not sure that it works as a message, but it’s nice to get some consideration for not having hit the escape key an hour or so earlier.

Twelve Minutes was one of the most interactive and enjoyable games I’ve played in a long while. Even though playing through the same loop again, and again, and again won’t be for everyone, I found the process of changing up my actions each time and moving forward, little by little, to be oddly satisfying, and the sense of accomplishment whenever I made a considerable leap forward was unmatched.

When you perform an inaccurate jump and fall to the void, you won’t be terminated until you reach the bottom, which means you can be free-falling for about ten seconds before the round concludes. However, these problems are secondary to the mixed, complicated emotions I experienced–from the pure joy and satisfaction when finishing a challenging area, to more complex and bitter thoughts about our humanity–and our efforts to be better. Hypervisor provokes conversations not only about our daily dependence on technology, our increasing levels of anxiety around it, or the isolation bubbles created through social media, but how our imminent future could be made even worse. Hopefully, we can change this trajectory before it’s too late–if it isn’t already too late.

This game wants to be very charming, and it sometimes comes very close. The art is rich and beautiful, and the interfaces look great. But every other aspect of the game feels one step away from being memorable. Menus are confusing and difficult to use. Locations are overly greebled with landmarks and winding paths, making it difficult to get around with ease or speed—and the map is obtuse, instead of helpful, at a glance.

Spiritfarer is a fantastic title that runs like a dream and firmly delivers on its warm aura interlaced with emotional weight. Beautifully executed in its approach to complex subjects, players will be thoroughly engrossed and immersed in the nautical spirit world Stella and Daffodil inhabit, and the carefully built (if inevitably fleeting) friendships of unique spiritual companions. Step through the Everdoor and see what’s on the other side.

In the end, however, Golf Club Wasteland didn’t need to sell me on its main character for it to work. It tells more than a story about one person or one moment. Instead, its strength is in the world it creates, the microstories of each level, and the layers of social critique in each part of its radio broadcasts. The rich will watch the world burn and complain about the glare―best make sure that golf course is shady.

Along with having to perform some well-timed maneuvers, this also makes for several terribly clever puzzles, which also makes me feel very clever at times.

Rustler isn’t shy about its homage to the classic Grand Theft Auto games, as it puts on its persona as a goofy, medieval Grand Theft Auto imitator with unabashed glee.

In an attempt to elevate itself beyond just an action-based shooter, Green Phoenix has unfortunately become more humdrum than invigorating.

Escape from Naraka takes the best–and unfortunately, some flaws–of classic platformers; making precise leaps can be challenging when you can’t see your feet. At the same time, it also injects some of the studio’s own culture and twists into the environments, letting you immerse in a Southeast Asian-inspired universe that’s as mystical as it’s alluring.

Perhaps Hoa is meant to be a vehicle for the art, and if so, there should be an option to nerf the reverse-control section so that we can appreciate said art without wanting to claw our eyes out. It’s also pretty funny how often you get Steam achievements—within the first few minutes of starting the game, you get three achievements including one for literally starting the game and another for moving to the next area (Steam achievements, of course, mean nothing). It’s a nice way to pass the time if you want a relatively stress-free platformer that’s easy on the eyes, but even as Hoa demands little from you as a player, it also offers little as an escape.

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]

The Vale is very much an experience, and it’s one I found interesting, even if it felt a little frustrating at times. The truth is, there just aren’t many games like this, and The Vale’s innovative take on accessible gameplay made it worth overlooking its flaws. It’s not perfect, but it’s interesting, and I’ll choose that over perfect every time.

Like wafts of familiar scents, moments throughout Psychonauts evoke memories of both Double Fine and LucasArts’ highest highs. Many of Double Fine’s best known collaborators, from visual artists to voice talent, have pooled in. It makes a fine game, one about the atrophy of counter culture, how bonds make finer milestones than accomplishments, and how past failures do not negate future glories. Psychonauts 2 is a rare treasure, one that feels rarer and rarer as years go by, but clearly still possible with the proper gang of weirdos.

Even with some messy execution on its political themes, Road 96 succeeds at capturing a fractious journey on the road and the turmoil of modern American politics. A deeper exploration of Petria’s history may give more context to the game’s narrative of taking change of your own destiny. But without this background, it ends up oversimplifying its premise by positing that the only barrier to equity and justice is a strongman in a suit. In reality, injustice runs far deeper.

The story, while occasionally perplexing, is full of heady material to chew through. It’s the kind of narrative that would require an additional playthrough, totally possible thanks to its roughly 2-4 hour campaign with selectable chapters. The gunplay may be a tiring affair of shooting lemmings in body armor, and the other elements are both underwhelming and frustrating, but Foreclosed is a gorgeous game with a big-ass brain. It just hasn’t quite figured out how to apply that yet.

Svoboda 1945: Liberation is a game which explores how looking back at the past means different things for different groups of people. It’s a story about the difference between those who benefit from the act of looking back, and those who are punished and aggrieved instead.

For the most part, though, Dodgeball Academia is an unbridled joy with a lovely cast of wholesome characters, even though the narrative isn’t always that fresh. If it was merely fun and silly writing alone, I’d still thoroughly enjoy my time with it because it reminds me fondly of excitedly waking up on a Saturday to watch daft cartoons and play video games—back to simpler times. The fact that the act of playing dodgeball is also fantastic is a warmly welcomed bonus.

Its world, art-style, exploration, and hack-n-slash combat are super fun, but these feel hampered by Tribes of Midgard’s key conceit as a tough tower defence game. Increasingly long nights mean you get little and less time to explore, and this is exacerbated by growing demands on resources. Instead, Tribes of Midgard would have made a better open-world game—its procedurally-generated Norse realm is so explorable. I would gladly play Tribes of Midgard more if I wasn’t bound to the settlement as much, and I hope that’s a mode that could be explored in the future.

Last Stop isn’t perfect. Its limited and tepid interactivity makes it better suited as a TV show, but I can’t deny that the story is entertaining and absorbing enough where, in the grand scheme of things, its shortcomings didn’t matter much. It took me back to the days of charming British sci-fi tv shows like Blake 7, Doctor Who and Torchwood, where these shows shared a love of telling character-driven stories on a backdrop of big themes despite budget constraints. With its intimate cast of characters, eccentric English charm and cosy story-telling, Last Stop replicates these shows’ charisma, creating an enjoyable sci-fi tale that’s gripping and one you’ll want to see through to the end.

In the end, Chernobylite felt a lot like scavenging for supplies in the Zone. There are certainly interesting things to unearth, but the laborious process of revealing them was barely worth the hassle. If Chernobylite is a loop, it is one that brings increasingly diminished returns with each completed cycle.

In the last few years it’s become a running gag within indie circles that Metroidvania and soulslike games are the go-to genres to build your game around. Unfortunately, Grime wears that on its shoulder with pride, instead of doing anything remotely interesting. In essence, it’s the software equivalent of saying ‘only fans of the soulikes genre will enjoy this’.

Made up of 56 puzzles that make full use of this timeless feature—in which you can fast forward or rewind time to solve its countless riddles—it’s a tough-as-nails, minimalist puzzle game about nudging a cube towards its goal. Cylinders may also be used to help you get to hard-to-reach places, but the crux of the game is about manipulating the very fabric of time so you can get to where you need to be. That said, Induction can be unforgiving in its challenges; if you’re stuck on one level, you won’t be able to move on to the next—which makes for some frustrating moments—but fortunately, a guide to solving the puzzles is readily available online.

Rather than dwell on how Unavowed also cleverly entangles you with unexpected developments at almost every turn—because there’s no question that it absolutely does—the idle banter and jabs traded among its cast of paranormal detectives are heartening and authentic, moving the story forward even in its quietest moments. It’s a point-and-click game destined to be an all-time classic—which is why it is one of the entries in our best point-and-clicks list.

Devoid of music and the ups and downs of an engaging narrative arc, the happenings in Horror Tales: The Wine becomes stale quickly. Coupled with some arcane puzzles that can only be resolved by loading a previous save, Horror Tales: The Wine leaves a sour taste in the mouth after a few chapters.

Originally an Apple Arcade exclusive, Mini Motorways is now available on Steam for aspiring city planners. If you’re ready to tear your hair out of your follicles over the algorithm’s decision to construct a house 10 million miles away from its destination, it may very well become one of your favourite time-wasters.

By stripping away most of the unnecessary bits of a bloated RPG—combat, leveling up, and customising your character—Mythic Ocean distills the narrative features of these games into a series of thoughtful conversations with a likeable cast, while revealing something much more profound: the philosophies and idiosyncrasies that dictate our human condition.

Fans of games like Furi and Devil May Cry may be surprised with how well Eldest Souls can produce the same sort of frantic and expressive action those games are known for. Its “soulslike” credentials don’t stem from replicating the slow and plodding experience that the subgenre is known for very much. Instead, it’s the focused and diverse boss encounters, on top of the snappy combat and clever customisation. Eldest Souls may not change the face of soulslikes just yet, but it at least demonstrates that there are still new ways to interpret them.

If you’re already a fan of the series then you’ll probably enjoy this, but you’ll also find yourself uncomfortably comfortable with it all, because with Orcs Must Die! 3, not much has really changed.

It must be pretty obvious by now that I love this game. I love the effort that went into it and the expansive scope of its contents. I love how easy the gameplay is to grasp and how complex its plot becomes. I love the surprises and mysteries, and how each character is so full of soul. History buffs will have hours of spotting little details and accuracies, and fans of a good old-fashioned mystery will be kept up all night by the perplexing curse that has befallen this town.

All in all, Out of Line isn’t a terrible experience; I only wished there was a stronger emphasis on establishing its odd setting, along with something more that I could point to as being exceptional.

The Ascent is mostly a mindless, violent jaunt through a meticulously rendered cyberpunk city; what little portrayal of the themes of depravity and inequality are merely set-dressing for the game. Yet for all its facelessness, what was most indelible was still its city, the disparity between the powerful and powerless depicted in its spaces: from the cramped, unsanitary alleys home to the ceaseless chatter of its most downtrodden, to the shine of the marble floor in the wealthier districts, soon to be sullied by the dead bodies you leave behind.

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.

Boomerang X may not be perfect, but it’s perfectly addictive, a game just begging to be replayed. There’s even a built-in speed run timer setting and harder difficulty options and a New Game+ mode underscoring its replayability. Running through its 13 levels another time probably won’t peel back any more of the game’s very thin plot layers, but damn if it isn’t a blast to zip around like an airborne assassin.

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.

I really like how the deck-building mechanics reflect the dispositions of the different characters. You can see this in both combat and negotiation; Sal is pretty strong all around, which makes them a good choice for your first couple of runs. Rook flips a coin every now and then during negotiation that can produce a powerful boost. Smith builds up a stockpile of empty bottles while in combat which they sometimes hurl at their opponents. The result is a wonderful sense of ludonarrative consonance.

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.

It’s a base defense strategy game that dabbles in realism rather than pointless commotion, and it’s a very captivating one. There are minor issues, such as the need for more precise controls (you can’t choose which worker you wish to station at every barricade), but aside from a few frustrating moments, these mostly don’t detract from its strengths.

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.

As a monosyllabic goose who prefers to let your guns–be it machine guns or rocket launchers–do the talking, you’ll be traversing across planets, dodging gunfire and bulldozing legions of robots and bugs with a flurry of bullets sprayed all over the screen. There’s no poetic justice to be meted out, no truly dastardly plot to raze the universe to the ground, and no tearjerker or heroic moments: just the opportunity to enact scenes of pure, exhilarating carnage.

The blindingly abrasive strobe effect that will make this an utterly miserable experience for some, no matter how much you want to see the pretty pictures and explore every corner of the Critters world. But if you’re willing to just ruin your vision for an afternoon and commit to the developer’s description of their own work “to make your eyes bleed” (for their other game, a shooter called Rym 9000), Critters for Sale is an oddball dip into a very particular vision of hell.

On the whole I’m incredibly impressed with Wildermyth. While I was skeptical at first about whether its procedurally-generated narrative events and choices would allow for cohesive character development, its stories are so well-written, funny, and relatable that it’s hard not to be invested in the lives of your motley crew of heroes. Wildermyth is the kind of game that moves seamlessly between heroes making bad jokes one second and reflecting on the nature of existence the next. This tapestry of moments feels appropriate in a game about what it means to be human, both in terms of battling against mortality and the end of the world, but also in the quiet moments of beauty that life is filled with.

Ultreia, too, leans heavily on religious themes, with forgiveness being a saving grace that unlocks a secret true ending, reducing the story into an uncomplicated, religious tale with robots rather than a more nuanced story about adversities. It’s a pity that it ultimately misses the opportunities to delve deeper into the rich world it’s built for itself.

Moving through Summertime Madness, the art gallery comparison reminded me more and more of an art pop up in Manhattan called Color Factory. In Color Factory, guests move through spaces of bright, saturated, colorful designs of atmospheric spaces, playful ball pits and selfie-perfect sets with slogan-plastered objects ready for instagram. The more I walked through the colorful playspaces of Summertime Madness, the more fitting the connection seemed. Rather than thinking of some video games through a cinematic lens or painting frame, Summertime Madness is a reminder of real world spaces like Color Factory. While that isn’t too lofty an aspiration, maybe just walking through a world and feeling something is enough.

Just like the sport of soaring, while everything is great when you’re up in the air, the fun comes to a screeching halt when you’re down on the ground. Cruising around on those rising currents of air is an incredible experience that truly captures the feeling of flight. You can sometimes keep your glider aloft for hours by weaving around the sky in just the right way. When you touch down, there’s no getting yourself back up into the air, though. Flight School Studio was on to something with all the gliding, but didn’t quite stick the landing.

The pull of “just one more run” is the heart of roguelikes, but lacking even that makes Roguebook little more than just a distraction from better games. Like the junk food you eat between real meals or while bored, it’s enjoyable at times, but will ultimately leave you hungry for something more substantial.

I’m a big fan of “walking simulators,” but The Magnificent Trufflepigs hems in its exploration and storytelling so severely that I never felt like I was walking much at all. This is more a “get interrupted constantly” simulator: not a vein I’m particularly eager for developers to mine.

I am in love with Chivalry 2, but it’s not the best it could be just yet. As it stands, the party system is literally useless at the moment. There are also a few connection issues here and there too. However, assuming they get fixed, Chivalry 2 could well be my go-to game for killing a bit of time–and a lot of people–for years to come. The developers will also be adding in horses in a later update, and that sounds truly wonderful.

As distasteful as the title is, it doesn’t seem particularly triggering for most people. The game’s comical tone and frivolous approach stave off any potential triggers its gruesome title might suggest. When you approach the game as a virtual escape room, wherein every time your character dies, you get one step closer to the real world, the whole affair becomes more palatable. But without a potent narrative and puzzles that increase in complexity, Suicide Guy ultimately doesn’t offer anything new to the genre.

Chicory flits through its hours of play with earnest, effortless charm that admittedly verges on saccharine at times—some of its townsfolk seem more like caricatures than actual personalities—but it has also helped me to appreciate the heights and mundanity of exploration, discovery and creation. It’s something I haven’t quite been able to for a while in games.

It’s charming and occasionally clever, but as a whole it all just feels kind of familiar.

The ending left me with lots of questions, and I don’t invoke the names of Beckett and Kafka and Ballard lightly. I guess Lynch can go here too, as well as more modern writers like Atword, Ligotti, Butler, and Vandermeer: Backbone touches on the sort of existential uncertainty that these writers famously imbued their work with. It also made me think about the forces that push back against people’s herculean efforts to better their circumstances: be they inculcated beliefs from society, or perhaps even things that are more primordial than that. That’s perhaps the best praise I can give this game: that it’s going to sit festering in the back of my mind for a good long while.

Repetitive as My Child Lebensborn is, as a video game it falls short of what most players might consider “fun.” But as an education about Lebensborn and the poignant struggles of war children to this day, it leaves an enduring impression. Way more than any history class ever did.

Ultimately, what guides the trajectory of this voyage in Dog Airport is your relationship with Krista, which is surprisingly tender and heartwarming. It’s the contemplative, and sometimes mournful conversations you have with her, the reminiscing of older days, and the gentle banters you trade with one another, that makes every reunion with her a poignant.one. For a game that’s predominantly moulded in the surreal humor of the internet, I wasn’t expecting to be swept away by all these feels.