It’s easy to imagine Suda Gôichi out there taking notes on what this game has accomplished.
While it lasts, the game is a challenging blast, even if the story offers only the skin-deep and all-too-familiar choice of siding with a potentially mad scientist to defend and use the Anomaly for mankind.
This is a game that’s most arresting when experienced alone, its grim story one of intensifying emptiness and detachment.
The inept absence of voiceovers leaves the game with a par-cooked, half-empty aura that’s never furnished with an opportunity to expand.
Star Trek is plagued by bugs, monotonous co-op/single player gameplay, and flat, unexpressive graphics.
It becomes apparent early on that Riptide’s narrative is basically a hurriedly scribbled footnote on the bottom of a blood-stained manifesto.
Monaco’s tagline reads “What’s yours is mine,” but it’s fairly clear that these levels are designed for the robust co-op, in which up to four thieves must combine their powers to clear each heist.
This is NetherRealm Studios’s galumphing valentine to diehard comic-book and gaming enthusiasts alike.
While you may lose days of your life to the lengthy dungeons and the micromanagement of your demonic menagerie, you won’t lose your soul.
Guacamelee! craftily punches, kicks, and pile-drives its way into the heart with undeviating aplomb.
Not since Super Mario 3D Land has the 3D slider been put to such good use; conclusively, the enhancing of the 3D effects is less of an eye-piercing distraction than an unruffled visual polishing.
In the moment, HarmoKnight’s soundtrack is quite satisfying, but most of its compositions fail to reach the distinguished degree of Pokémon’s most earwormy anthems.
The attentive design has also yielded a story as daring as the original’s, though the focus has shifted from a cautionary tale of unchecked capitalism to an alternative world of segregation, class warfare, and religious fanaticism.
The game’s challenges are ramped up throughout each mode and the rewards are fairly abiding.
Standard turn-based role-playing engagements are the norm, with various unexciting movement, grid-mapped strike ranges, multiple hit bonuses, and effect enhancements thrown in for not-so-good measure.
Each chapter is completely free of tension and coherence, with no sense of time passing between sections (can be minutes, can be months) and a stunning amount of reuse to make areas more bloated.
Accepting numerous boilerplate-level tasks from the Request Board becomes tiresome after only a few hours of dedicated play.
Be it that Darkstalkers is commonly recognized for its stylishly offbeat craftsmanship, Resurrection seeks to, quite literally, pay respect to the original Japanese artists by framing the game as something of portrait in motion.
This is a vibrant, densely packed sprawl of a game that unquestionably needs some sort of exclusive element to elevate the regularly formulaic, unstimulating gameplay.
Although Ayesha epitomizes a memorable heroine, even her unalloyed willingness to succeed is somewhat weakened by the sparse availability of options surrounding her metaphysical ontogenesis.
This handheld release is meant to tide hardcore fans over until the next console release with some too-familiar gameplay and the tidying up of the retconned mythology.