Game Reviews

As Tomb Raider begins, Lara is more an academic than an adventurer. But when she's shipwrecked on an island full of ancient secrets and deadly cultists, she has little choice but to learn how to survive. Lara endures a great deal of punishment early in the game, and though no small amount of that anguish is physical, it's an unpleasant moment in which a man tries to force himself on her that's most harrowing. But as unpleasant as it is, it marks an important turning point in Lara's understanding of just how hard she has to fight to survive. Rather than crumbling under the weight of her physical and emotional struggles, she emerges from them a stronger person.

While casually flying around the galaxy, Oozi’s spaceship ran out of fuel and crash-landed on Earth. Oozi is now on a mission to retrieve his high-tech attire that was lost upon impact in order to escape the planet. Being stripped naked (apart from his underwear) means that Oozi starts off in this platformer with none of his abilities. Likewise, the game feels very bare at first. The first two levels introduce you to the jumping mechanics, which are fairly standard except that changing direction is far too slow and disruptive to flow. Fortunately the visuals are very crisp and a treat to look at in Oozi, and the music and sounds are certainly promising enough early on to keep you playing to see if the game will ripen.

Oddly enough, this platformer does not initially rely on split second timing or precise jumping. The game initially seems to intend to relax the player. The levels are filled with charming green scenery, and the snails and worms that act as enemies are colourful and jumping on their head results in a satisfying pop. Around each level are clusters of stars that can be collected for extra health, but the best part is the way the sound effects blend in with the beautiful background music and provide a sense of calm. It seems odd at first to make a relaxing platformer but it works to start off with. As you can gather, this soon becomes a little boring by the end of the second level, but just as luck would have it, Oozi finds his shoes.

It's one thing to turn a great founder of the United States into a maniacal super-villain, but quite another to have him pulling pistols and busting caps with the kind of aggressive swagger typically reserved for Tarantino characters. And yet, that's the sight that greets you in the first of three episodes of Assassin's Creed III: The Tyranny of King Washington. While it's a transformation that so very nearly crosses the line into the comical, Washington's newfound dictatorship is an audacious and alluring concept.

Throughout my time with Crysis 3, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was trapped inside of a Hollywood film. This became especially true during the more predictable moments of the script. At one point in the campaign, my partner and I, a man called Psycho, quietly snuck through the sewers as we attempted to evade C.E.L.L. -- a private military outfit ordered to find and capture us. Pyscho was formerly a Nanosuited military bad boy like me, but he had his outfit surgically removed by force somewhere between the last Crysis game and this one. Relegated to a life as a regular soldier, Psycho tugged at a rusty crank to open a set of sealed double doors until he felt fatigued; a loud creak reverberated through the environment -- a sure sign to anyone in earshot that they weren't alone.

"Do you think they heard that?" Psycho said as he turned to me.

Of course they did, I thought as I sighed to myself. I then ripped the doors apart with my hands and got ready for a firefight, as Psycho silently slinked up a ladder away from danger.

When we met up again later on, he walked a few paces ahead and stated the obvious, "I guess they heard that." It's typical Hollywood schlock, but I enjoy it for what it is nonetheless.

Given Platinum’s heritage, it’s shocking to discover that Raiden starts Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance without access to a dodge. Our protagonist has no Bayonetta cartwheel, no Viewtiful Joe evade poses, none of God Hand’s lightspeed bobs and weaves. You’ll get one eventually, admittedly, but this is a bold opening statement: Platinum wants you to understand right from the word go that this is not a game of escaping danger, but of facing it head on.

There’s no dedicated block button either, but tilt the left stick towards an opponent preparing to attack and tap Square to make Raiden raise his sword in a defensive stance, fending off the enemy’s strike and staggering you back briefly in block stun. The later you press the button, the shorter the stun; time the press to a handful of frames before the incoming attack connects and you don’t stagger at all, instead countering with a swipe of your own sword, stunning not just your attacker but anyone foolish enough to be nearby – the perfect parry.

It is necessary, I think, for a video game reviewer to have their genre prejudices in mind when playing something that might prove aggravating because of the conventions its genre and not necessarily its quality.

So here’s my somewhat shameful confession: I’m not in love with The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. I don’t have nostalgia-tinged memories of the game because I came into the series aroundOcarina of Time, so all the games in the series before the 3D entries feel archaic and stilted to me. I appreciate the earlier games, but I don’t particularly care for them.

Why is this relevant in a review for Analgesic Productions’ new game Anodyne? Well, for starters, this might be the most unabashed love letter ever crafted for the earlier Zelda games. Anodyne deftly mimics the 16-bit, top-down perspective visuals and exploration-oriented gameplay of A Link to the Past while still managing to have a unique aesthetic, especially when it comes to enemy design. Gone are the Babasus and Archers. Instead, you’ll be going toe-to-toe against frogs that spit hazardous bubbles, fire breathing lions and a stone goliath or two. Just you and your broom.

The entirety of Proteus is the exploration of an island--a standard island in which trees, hills, and a small scattering of animals make up the sights and the sounds. As you make your way across this small piece of isolated land, the sun sets, the moon rises, and the weather changes. It doesn't sound like much, but the dependable forces of nature act upon your surroundings, creating rainstorms, snow showers, and exposing wildlife. It's a dramatic and touching effect that compels you to revisit the island multiple times. You're largely a passive spectator to Mother Nature as she weaves her magic, with the ability to move and look around your only means of interaction. There's no button to jump, pick up, pause, or punch. On occasion, animals react to your presence (usually by running away), but that's about as far as you can influence proceedings.

The first thing you see is a gun. Not just a gun, but the gun. The M41A pulse rifle 10 millimetre with over-and-under 30 millimetre pump action grenade launcher, as so lovingly described by Corporal Dwayne Hicks during an unlikely moment of firearms-assisted flirtation with Ripley in James Cameron's 1986 classic, Aliens. Before the game even starts, you're forced to watch as your virtual hands hold the rifle up and inspect it from every angle. "Look," Aliens: Colonial Marines is saying. "Just like the film!"

That, it transpires, is the best trick in the arsenal of a game that understands that its success rests not on innovation or polish but on how often it can remind us of a movie made 27 years ago. That's why artist Syd Mead was brought back to expand on his original designs. That's why the music borrows from James Horner's score, by turns eerie and full of martial urgency. That's why the plot - such as it is - is sure to revisit every location, every encounter, that fans will want to relive. In terms of pandering to fan expectations, Colonial Marines can't be accused to dereliction of duty.

Those are mere surface details, however, and you only have to play the game for half an hour or so before you start to wish that Gearbox had invested as much time and effort in a stronger game engine and a few fresh ideas. For all the lunges it makes in the direction of movie authenticity, the game is held back by a stultifying lack of ambition and a game engine that barely works.

Akaneiro: Demon Hunters is an action RPG from Spicy Horse behind titles such as Crazy Fairies and BigHead Bash. In the game, players take the role of demon hunters who are tasted to protect a monster-haunted village from the attacks of Yokai, or the very monsters that are causing trouble.

Set in ancient Japan, the game offers an exotic atmosphere with the original hand-painted pictures and traditional Japanese music. With the soundtrack of some traditional Japanese music, players are immersed into a Japanese style dark fantasy world as if they’ve traveled back to the ancient Japan hundreds of years ago when heroes are supposed to take up bayonets and protect their fellow countrymen.

Although Akaneiro presents an unprecedented hand-painted world, it only offers normal gameplay that doesn’t quite match up with the gorgeous pictures. Players move the avatars across the village and communicate with different NPCs to accept missions, purchase skills or gear, sell items or summon Spirit Helpers. The missions only keep players visiting neighboring villages or other places, known as dungeons in most RPGs, where hordes of wolves and other Yokais appear in threes and fours and players have to kill all the monsters and the boss before they could leave the dungeons and complete the missions.

 I’m not a violent man by any means and that should make me very uneasy about my fondness for gangsters, but I far prefer them to other murderous avatars. I’m thinking pirates, ninja, warfighters and bald space marines. That was reason enough to draw my eyes to Omerta: City of Gangsters when it was first announced and I’ve finally played through the campaign of this city-conquering strategy game. I’ve already swung a baseball bat at the demo but went deeper into the underground in the hope that I’d find something there worth clinging on to.

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted a sequel to Gangsters. There was a sequel, right, but I don’t remember particularly enjoying it. In fact, I don’t remember particularly enjoying the original game either but the lack of strategic mobster games can lead a man to wring every drop from whatever liquor-stained rag he finds. I’d go back and replay it but my copy is long lost, but if memory serves it wasn’t a bad game so much as an unambitious one that never fully embraced its theme. A snazzy spat worn over a concrete shoe.

Omerta is much the same. There are plenty of things that don’t quite work and other things that are entirely against the expected grain. I’ve read the ‘X-COM with gangsters’ line far too often already – I’ve even used it myself, although indirectly – but it holds less water than a prohibition era policeman’s nightcap. There’s a strategic overview and turn-based battles occur, but the scope is much smaller and the city is a balance sheet rather than a living place.

Thieves sure do lead enviable lives. Not only do they get to explore exotic locales and caress exquisite treasure, but they can even mingle with their ancestors. Yes, in Sly Cooper's latest foray, he steals priceless artifacts while thumbing his nose at scientific law. Zooming through history's pages brings plentiful, and often welcome, diversity to this horological adventure. There's a continuous flow of tantalizing environments to wander through and crooked schemes to take part in, though there are times when this variety serves as a detriment. Graceful as Sly's thieving crew can be, when it comes to fisticuffs, they're nothing more than blundering buffoons. Nevertheless, Sly Cooper: Thieves in Time is a lengthy and exciting caper through the eyes of good-natured burglars.

Dead Space 3 represents the culmination of two story arcs: that of protagonist Isaac Clarke and that of the game series itself. Like dead flesh that comes in contact with the malevolent alien Marker artifacts, Dead Space as a franchise has transformed into a nigh-unrecognizable version of its former self. Whereas the initial game was full-on survival horror, the second game's last act traded dread for a tension built around overwhelming amounts of enemies in claustrophobic spaces.

Dead Space 3 dials it back in its opening moments, but it returns to that frenetic pace in short order. It’s clear the series isn't going back to its roots anytime soon. Tension isn't built from the environment or atmosphere; it comes instead from over-long enemy encounters that are more a test of endurance, accuracy, and wherewithal than a tool used to convey mood.

Dead Space 3 shows a series that is a victim of its own success. Playing it is like seeing Metallica in 2007 at the 90,000-seat Wembley Stadium versus a 1982 show at the 1,000-seat Whisky a Go Go. The same essential pieces are there, but changes were made along the way to fill that giant venue. Publisher Electronic Arts’ investment in the Dead Space series has grown so large that Clarke and company need to find a huge audience to be successful. The easiest way to do that is to cut away what gave the franchise its edge and uniqueness, taking it from a killer niche experience to something more generic in nature.

The Fire Emblem series has always been a bit intimidating. The franchise has been around for decades, but it's never really been able to crack the code of the western market. While the reasons it hasn't broken out in the States are debatable, one thing is clear;Fire Emblem: Awakening, the series' latest release, proves just how good strategic RPGs can be. Hopefully, Awakening will breathe new life into this storied franchise, and encourage a new mainstream appreciation for Fire Emblem, as well as the twenty plus years that have gone into crafting these games.

Awakening follows many of the conventions set forth by pervious Fire Emblem games, but then puts its own spin on the formula. Players take control of army "units," in this case they are called "Shepards" and are led by the noble Prince Chrom, as they wage war on grid-based battlefields. Each unit stands for a character that can be moved a certain number of spaces each turn and can interact with each other, their enemies, and ally NPCs. As players advance, they engage their foes in a rock-paper-scissors style battles, replacing the rock, paper, and scissor with swords, lances, and magic. Combat progresses in turns until the player fulfills the level's requirement (usually eliminating all of the enemy soldiers, or defeating their leader), or one of the two main characters, Chrom or the player's character, are killed in action. If you've ever spent any time with Advance Wars (same developer - Intelligent Systems), you'll likely be familiar with the overall concept and execution. However, the Fire Emblem games have always connected with players on a more personal level since the battles are one-on-one, instead of groups of nameless, cartoon soldiers.

Barely 30 seconds in and Antichamber has lied to us, suggesting we jump over a gap that not only looks impassable, but is. The solution, we find out when we work our way back up, is to walk off the edge and watch as a bridge forms beneath us. It’s just the first of many little tricks this game pulls. This is a world where staircases end on the floor they began; where you can fall four floors and find yourself staring through a window at where you just stood; where you turn your back on something, look around, and find that it’s gone.

The clue’s in the name: this is perhaps best thought of as the anti-puzzle game. Rather than learning a set of mechanics and then using them to solve increasingly challenging puzzles, Antichamber’s opening is a struggle to make sense of a world that makes no sense at all. The only help you’re given are some chalk drawings dotted about the place, which, when clicked on, reveal nuggets of fortune-cookie-like wisdom. (“The end may come before we were ready to get there,” one intones.) Some teach you lessons about the preceding trap or puzzle, while others refer to the next one, but neither kind is especially helpful and both frequently come off as smug.

In 2299, mankind has settled among the stars, multiplying to colonise planets that just a few decades ago it could only dream of reaching. It’s all thanks to The Signal, a mysterious transmission that gave Earth the recipe for interstellar travel. But with humanity spread throughout space, decentralised across a new frontier, fractures ripped apart the ranks and aggressive splinter groups emerged to contest Earth’s right to rule. This is where Strike Suit Zero finds its conflict, a deep-space-civil-war shooter looking to resurrect the long-dead-likes of Freelancer and X-Wing through zero-gravity combat and 360° battlefields.

Slow to start, Strike Suit Zero powers up like a rusty hyper drive. The first few missions lock away customisable upgrades and trade on wafer-thin dogfights with similarly able ships: you’re given the flimsiest fighter with the weakest plasma cannons and tasked with cleaning up space, hunting vagabonds by lining up reticules. This cosmic community service may well have you hankering after something with a bit more bite to it: IL-2 Sturmovik for instance. Despite the backdrop of striking blue nebulae, half-colonised worlds and fractured fringe planets, tasks amount to ‘kill X number of X’. It’s too little stretched across too much.

On the surface Ni no Kuni may look like another cutesy Japanese RPG, but scratch below the gorgeous anime paintwork and darkness lurks, as you embark upon a tale of orphans, broken hearts and an all-powerful witch with a cape hewn from the very fabric of the galaxy itself.

As you venture into The Cave you'll find it laced with a self aware, morbid sense of humor, prompting you to fulfill the last wish in a slew of wickedly mischievous desires and to solve some pretty fun puzzles along the way. It turns out a lot of dark desires involve murder, who knew?

You'll begin by selecting three of the available seven characters, each with a unique ability corresponding to their personality like telekinesis or ghost form. The classes vary widely, ranging from your typical knight and adventurer to the more unusual time traveler and mad scientist. Don't worry about picking the wrong ones, either, since the game's trials will shift to adapt to the composition of your party.

Once you've chosen, you'll begin to progress through a series of connected tunnels and corridors, along the way discovering more about the characters you've selected and hopefully making your way towards some kind of closure. As you move forward you'll encounter obstacles like locked doors and sleeping monsters, requiring you to open or dismantle them somehow in order to move into the next area. The whole time you're exploring, The Cave's narrator will helpfully chime in with jokey clues: "Oh my, a nuclear rocket?" it taunts, and suddenly you'll be filled with an irresistible urge to start pushing shiny red buttons.

The environment is surprisingly expansive, given the small, dark space that typically comes to mind when you hear the term "cave." The settings, a reflection of the characters, are as different as they are themselves. Heck, sometimes you appear to be completely outdoors, climbing mountains, leaping across rooftops and even sailing across the ocean when the opportunity arises.

Talk about context. The War Z is a forgettable experience, easy enough to dismiss with a few nasty words and the faintest of praise. But it is impossible to ignore the game's damned developers, who since its release have revealed themselves to be either incompetent buffoons or crooked shysters. The amazing details make it impossible to review this in a bubble - not least because The War Z clearly wasn't made in one.

Most zombie fans will be aware of the Arma 2 mod DayZ, currently being worked up into a full release by its developer, which layers stealth and survival horror quite brilliantly atop the mechanics of a serious battle simulator. Most of DayZ's ideas are found in The War Z, to the extent that 'brazen' doesn't really do this justice. It's a crappy rip-off. So The War Z has terrible developers and is totally unoriginal, but it does have one surprise: it's sometimes almost fun.

Maybe I'm just a sucker for hopeless cases, because there's no doubt that The War Z is a barrel-scraping production. The idea is an open-world zombie massively multiplayer game on a map of Colorado, where up to 100 players move around the various towns and encampments snaffling supplies and weapons. The reality is a game that wouldn't have been cutting-edge on PlayStation 2. Its rudimentary architecture is almost comical; the buildings are crude cuboids, either solid or hollow, jammed together in little lines. Outside of the buildings things get even worse, with perhaps the defining image being your character's ridiculous three-frame melee attack. You want to know about the audio? The last game I played with worse sound effects was Two Worlds - and you can quote me on that.

Crazy, kinetic and, in its own peculiar way, cool - there's been nothing quite like Earth Defence Force 2017 before or after its release, well over five years ago. It's everything a modern video     game shouldn't be: unpolished, archaic and aggressively stupid. Yet it's also got all the qualities a video game should aspire to. Boisterous and fun, this is a game with a canny intellect ticking away behind its big dumb grin.

This is low-budget gaming at its best. Sandlot's over-the-top shooters started out in Japan under the Chikyuu Boueigun moniker as part of publisher D3's Simple series. This was the Japanese video game equivalent of the dime paperback or penny dreadful, in which cheap thrills came with a    fittingly cheap price-tag.

Low budgets often translate to high spirits, and Sandlot's games share a little of the punky aesthetic of the cinema of Troma. These are games that feel like they've been turned around over three days in a disused back-lot while cast and crew work their way through countless six-packs of Pabst Blue Ribbon and bags of soapy weed. And they're all the better for it.