As visually striking as it is, the game is most memorable for its ruthless, defensive combat.
Emptiness resonates troublingly at the heart of Casus Ludi’s hand-drawn co-op adventure game.
The game often lets its stylistic tics drag the experience into varying degrees of frustration.
The game takes delight in its over-the-top violence, cheesy monologues, and nonsensical plot.
The game takes so much more than it gives, forgetting that a journey isn’t simply about the means of travel.
It wants to be more of a three-dimensional museum, one that carefully categorizes emotions, than a game.
These are moments of impressive beauty and joy, moments blessedly unsullied by ReCore’s technical lethargy.
Movement here isn’t just treated as a necessity of the gameplay, but as an expression of joy and healing.
The game fails to satisfy the natural urge to explore a three-dimensional realm of seemingly endless possibilities.
Unlike life-simulator and open-world games, it doesn’t presuppose and anticipate your addiction. It simply uplifts.
As with Dear Esther before it, it offers up an admirable and atmospheric experience that simply isn’t all that much fun to play.
While the visuals are nothing to scoff at, this nascent title is a baby that could’ve been thrown away with all the bathwater.
Its anecdotes function as mawkish indicators of social status, as the Internet crowd often forgets that being online is a privilege for more than a few.
Gamers appear to be ready for developer ambition when it comes to not just the quality of the games, but how to play them.
The show’s big statement about The Way We Live Now feels a bit expected, more of a foregone conclusion than a hypothesis under consideration.