The Pathless ultimately buries anything it might have to say in a stupefying level of cliché.
Nicolas Cage’s amusing turn as a kooky hermit with an affinity for newspaper hats often feels awkwardly spliced into the film.
The game noticeably stumbles as it attempts to more overtly address the darkness beneath its concept.
Carto gets a lot of brain-bending mileage from its central mechanic.
It’s difficult to escape a sense that the game’s ambition far outstrips the number of unique people it can plausibly render.
The film has an exciting, lived-in quality that elevates what are otherwise some markedly unsteady attempts at horror.
Nocturne is a reminder that the notes themselves are just as important as how you play them.
In theory, its intricacies should be bracing, but in practice the fixation on spacing and formation further slows down the pace.
The series invigorates its material with the rousing trappings of a semi-comedic western.
Spelunky 2 remains staunchly committed to its immaculate core design.
The series concerns itself with boundaries between the different cultural standards of young adulthood.
Windbound is an exploration game whose sense of exploration is painfully rigid.
The most that the film can manage is to bookend itself with a word-salad thesis about the pursuit of emotional truth in art.
The film is strikingly fixated on exploring loss and pain on an intimate and personal scale.
Make & Break is at its best when injecting variety into the campaign, not only mixing up the environments but the game modes.
Few of the game’s problems would be insurmountable in the face of an engaging narrative.
The game is primarily a vehicle for Amanita Design’s brand of typically immaculate artistry.
The show’s reticence to dig into hopelessness and pain leaves its admirable optimism to feel strangely artificial.
The film heralds the arrival a bold and formidable voice in horror cinema.
The most impressive thing about the game is still the strength and specificity of its vision.