After several hours of playing Ooblets, I remain sincerely stunned by the level of attention to detail and how well polished this game looks, with an amount of content that is surprisingly large for an Early Access game. I’m curious and eager to witness where this fresh and cheerful experience will go next, and I really hope to get to meet more Ooblets along the road. [Early Access Score = 90]

You start out with a sword, for instance, that allows you to turn into a fairy and briefly fly while the sword remains anchored. Press the button again and the sword zips back to you in a straight line, cutting through whatever is in the way. As Mable beats various bosses, like a giant spider and rock monster, she gets their powers, which all work in a similar way. It’s creative and distinct, and also frequently frustrating as hell.

Perhaps the biggest twist to Don’t Forget Me—and this is not a spoiler—is that despite all the chatter about memories, the game isn’t explicitly about them. Instead, it’s a tale centered around navigating the ambiguities of being human.

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.

Overall Tales of the Neon Sea looks (and sounds) good and packs a considerable amount of playtime, but the lack of an original take on the genre and the truly annoying puzzles blocking progress can’t be ignored, as the latter takes away much of the atmosphere and immersion.

There are a few great ideas in this game to take Darkest Dungeon’s format and improve upon it but instead, Mistover flounders in its wake, trying desperately to grasp at a market which will find it lacklustre.

Tools Up! has a ton of potential. It just needs a bit of tweaking and user-friendliness, but still offers a solidly absurd cooperative multiplayer experience. The game is frustrating and hilarious in nearly equal measure, which has a certain appeal for these kinds of shared experiences. Just, you know, maybe not with the children.

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.

In a world drenched in ash after a volcanic cataclysm, the Squad’s long and treacherous journey may have dashed most of their hopes for survival, let alone of achieving their goal of finding a new home. Ashwalkers led me to identify with the arduousness of its quest–a sadly drab journey overly invested in its destination, with more interesting moments spread out like notable landmarks. This sparsity left me wanting for more to grapple with here and now, rather than the promise of unlocking it later. The latter, it seems, feels like a gambit that doesn’t pay off.

The plot is meant to feel uplifting as hope is, literally, restored and trauma overcome. But it all feels too downbeat and too open to interpretation to make sense. What for some might be an intriguing journey of discovery was for me a baffling, meaningless grind.

Sheltered is a game with some good ideas. The customisation options are fantastic, and the gameplay loop itself is enjoyable. It’s a shame it’s tarnished by horrible RNG and a general feeling of pointlessness. If you really want to struggle against the world there are better games out there that do the same thing, but better.

There’s a lot to discover in Summer Catchers, but I feel like the PC version is the worst way to do so. If you’re considering buying this on a tablet or phone, add a point or two to the review score.

The game as a whole feels a little sparse. What there is to do is fun, but it loses its sheen rather rapidly as you discover there’s little point in replaying the missions. Of course, it’s in Early Access, so this is likely to change, but it’s still kind of annoying. A good shout if you want to get in at the ground level of something that’ll be fun in a few months, but waiting a few months is perfectly understandable too. [Early Access Score = 70]

Fight Crab certainly holds an appealing concept but, like many good ideas, gets let down by in the execution. Multiplayer is easily its strongest component and arming yourselves with a ludicrous weapon to floor opponents has a lot of fun. Unfortunately, the quest to become Supreme Crab gets bogged down in repetition, not made easier by janky controls. There’s an enjoyable game at FC’s core but ultimately, its best experienced in small doses.

Given the setup – clueless white scientist comes to terms with the consequences of her groundbreaking research – The Complex is a particularly vanilla flavour of dystopia that fails to inspire. These are uncomfortable tropes we’ve seen before, especially when it comes to expendable minorities and the guilt-ridden white people fretting over them. Even without the COVID-19 pandemic living rent-free in our brains, The Complex – despite its noble efforts – ends up feeling rather flat.

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.

Ultimately, I cannot recommend Freakpocalypse to anyone who isn’t an established Cyanide & Happiness fan. This isn’t the sort of point-and-click adventure that bridges gameplay issues with an engaging story, since it relies on crude humour to see it through. If you enjoy C&H, this will be right up your street, but it does nothing to court players that aren’t part of the existing fanbase. I wouldn’t call this a bad game; it’s just a very average one, and there are much better alternatives out there for point-and-click fans.

A decent little game, tightly designed with some laughs along the way, as well as offering really good audio and visual design. However, it does fall down under more prolonged scrutiny, with undercooked world-building and a tendency to push you towards grinding out money by means of repetition meaning that some may lose interest before reaching the finale.

Windbound is a lovely little adventure game in a beautiful world. You don’t always have to kill things, and you can generally be a little more relaxed as you journey from island to island and watch the wildlife. It’s not perfect, but I enjoyed my time in the world, and the emotional ride constantly swaying between immensely chilled out and “god d*mn it I died” was one I found quite fun.

Separation isn’t likely to garner a lot of attention. It’s not flashy and is definitely indie (developer Recluse Industries is really just one guy), but there’s a distinct appeal to a game where the whole point is to soak up a moody, solitary, and evocative atmosphere. There’s no explanation or tutorial to sit through, the game just starts with a simple message and lets the player figure things out on their own. It’s not a bad way to spend a few hours, but probably not a game that will linger on your hard drive either.

Liberated is a peculiar game. While it explores some interesting concepts around surveillance, people’s privacy and how societies react to terrorism, I’m not sure any of its ideas are helped by being a video game. If anything, it has an adverse effect, actively drawing away from the team’s artistic skills and world-building.

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.

While Skellboy is pretty rough ‘n’ ready, it’s still generally playable, and its charm manages to shine through. The writing is playful and doesn’t take itself seriously at all, giving the experience a shot of personality. For a monster of a game formed from a mass of ill-fitting parts, they at least didn’t forget the heart.

The progression difficulty leaves a little to be desired, but when you see an enemy churn out a whole screen of projectiles—and know that if you stand just so, you’ll be able to dodge everything without moving—it all clicks into place. For players who are hooked on achieving that feeling of mastery, Godstrike is going to be a surefire win, with challenges and arena modes offering deeper layers to mine. In short, Godstrike is a wonderful, accessible paean to a niche genre.

Overall, Warlander is a lot of fun, and the combat system really is unlike anything else you’re likely to have played. While it doesn’t always shine in each individual fight, it does a good job of escalating as you play through it, and the difficulty curve straddles the line between forgiving and “oh lord why is this happening to me” very well. It’s certainly worth your attention if you’re looking for something visceral to sink your teeth into, and it’ll treat you well if you’re willing to master the nuances of the combat system too.

If you’re not averse to a bit of grinding, there’s plenty of fun to be eked out of Space Crew’s enjoyable core gameplay loop. Its main flaw remains the somewhat lacklustre beginning.

Dialogue is poor, cliched and uninteresting, so after an hour or so the only thing really pulling you through is the cool black and white, hand-drawn aesthetic, and the excellent soundtrack. The gameplay does a lot to make up for the shortcoming of the overall package, and it’s fun to jump into for quick sessions, but with each death and each mindless conversation with one-dimensional characters, it gets harder to find reasons to keep going.

Leaving home, getting married, moving to the city, coming home and finding out that your home isn’t the place it used to be—all of these are part and parcel of growing up. Sid, living on his own and with a published novel under his belt, might expect to be largely done with that process, but Forgotten Fields’ greatest insight is that growing up isn’t such a simple thing. It’s not a linear process with clear rites of passage; I’m not sure that it ever really was.