The game takes delight in its over-the-top violence, cheesy monologues, and nonsensical plot.
Though it’s abundant in hyper-realistic visuals, that isn’t enough to disguise its lack of polish in almost every other way.
It's a special kind of frustrating sequel that’s too inconsistent to realize its potential as an incisive comedy or exciting shooter.
To enjoy the game is to believe that there can be purpose or joy in peeking around the most distant corners of our world.
Its boss fights highlight the contrived lengths that FromSoftware has gone to in order to satisfy players’ thirst for difficulty.
Did you get chocolate in my peanut butter, or did you get peanut butter in my chocolate?
The launch trailer seeks to cover every angle of Cyan Inc.’s pending project, and the funding they’re seeking.
If you dare, ascend into the horrors of the Martian mind and check out the trailer for yourself.
The game doesn’t rely on narrative reasons to entice the player, leaning instead on endorphin-releasing gameplay hooks.
The game masterfully uses its microcosm of the internet circa 1999 to examine the way society functions when it’s extremely online.
The game is a near-endless buffet of innovative options for turning enemies into mincemeat.
Throughout, you may be gripped by the feeling that you’ve seen all that there is to see in the fighting game genre.
The Occupation’s fierce commitment to immersing the player in its credible world is also the game’s undoing.
The game’s bland mélange of competence feels like the deliberate, calculated, focus-tested murder of ideas.
The game not only gets you to behave like a rampaging gorilla, it forces you to adapt like one.
There’s a certain sneering satisfaction to defeating everything the game throws at you on a particular track.
As you watch Talma’s existence fade, you grasp the importance that every moment can have on a mortal plane.
The game has even less to say about religious cults, belief systems, and American politics than its predecessor.