This game will most likely never see the light of day (outside of the few brief glimpses we’ve gotten from dev posts). All of the team seems to have moved on from the project. It actually crushes my heart to see so much potential for a great game, especially considering that the team working on it was Hitbox Team. It’s a frustrating tale of a canceled project that was born too early, and never fully bloomed.

For those who don’t know what Spire is/was, it’s a procedurally generated FPS with platforming elements. If you want more details about the project, you can head over to hitboxteam.com. It started development around 2012 and continued until at least 2017, where the last blog posts can be found on Hitbox Team’s website. Clearly a lot of work went into the game, they’ve even talked before about how Unity just couldn’t do stuff that they wanted so they had to build new tools to accomplish some of their design aspirations (a lighting engine, lots of pathfinding stuff, etc.)

The idea behind the game is that you climb a spire with presumably multiple floors. Each would be procedurally generated, with one of the most notable features being that it wasn’t really based on a seed. Player data would be stored on a chart of sorts and the generation would pull data from that to create a natural ebb and flow for the climb. One of the games developers, Lexie Dostal, talked in an interview about how they were trying to create compelling player narratives with this system, really interesting stuff. That mixed with the high emphasis on strong mechanics that (the best) Roguelikes have seemed like a fertile ground for interesting moments.

It kinda sounds like my dream game tbh. Dustforce and Spelunky are two of my favorite games, and it seemed like Spire was taking the best parts of each and putting it into an FPS. If I could choose one game to know everything about, it would undoubtedly be Spire. I still hope that one day they can finish it or release it in any other form, but for now, Spire will live rent-free in the back of my mind.

I played it. I loved it.

Kirby games aren't really the kinds of games that you overanalyze and meticulously pick apart. Not because there isn't anything of substance, or that they are perfect, but because the focus of the games tends to veer away from mechanical depth, and into aesthetics.

In that regard, KDL3 is easily the game that sticks out the most on the entire SNES. The visuals are genuinely impressive by today's standards, not necessarily in fidelity, but in art direction. Kirby always has striking character designs, but they are amplified here by the pseudo-hand drawn art mimicked by the pixel art. As someone who literally just played KDL3 for the first time, I don't have to consider the context of when the game was made when determining a lot of the aesthetics, which is something I can't say for many titles on the SNES (to clarify, I like the look of lots of SNES games, this one just sticks out). Genuinely great stuff here, which really amplifies the whole vibe of the game.

I've tried playing other Kirby games, but have only really enjoyed my time with this and Kirby 64. I hope that I can like the other games at some point too, but I think I can directly credit my disinterest in the other games to their lack of focus. Kirby doesn't really compete with other games in the same genre when it comes to raw gameplay, so the focus shouldn’t be on the gameplay, at least in my opinion.

This isn’t to say that Kirby has bad gameplay, but it's far from the most interesting thing the games offer, mostly due to Kirby being a franchise aimed for less experienced players. The other titles I’ve played seem to get right into the action and neglect building atmosphere. You can see the shift in focus directly in the power-ups as well, which have far more moves in the other games. Kirby controls tighter, the general speed of gameplay is increased, the list goes on and on of other small changes. In other 2D platformers, I would welcome those changes, but from what I’ve played of these other titles, they don’t have as engaging second to second gameplay, or as varied level design. Once again, Kirby is aimed at kids, so it makes sense that they can’t ramp up the difficulty, but this is precisely why I’ve found myself falling head over heels for KDL3 and K64.

Genuinely great games that don’t overstay their welcome, have enough interesting ideas to fill out the whole run time, and leave a lasting impression on me are few and far between. Kirby’s Dream Land 3 is able to achieve this with a much shorter run time, the unique gameplay gimmick inherent to all Kirby games (his copy ability), and the incredible atmosphere the game builds. I’m glad KDL3 turned out so great, and I look forward to playing the third and final game directed by Shinichi Shimomura in the future.

Black Bird isn’t a substantial game by any metric, but that doesn’t mean it's not worth your time. There are a lot of games with smaller scope that don’t get a lot of attention because they aren’t the “next big thing.” Most people’s favorite game isn’t a short 30 minute indie game, and I’m not here to say it should be otherwise. But I do think that games with a scope as large as Black Bird’s do get overlooked in favor of something more substantial.

Black Bird is charming to an extent that few games are. I would almost put it up there with games like Earthbound and Katamari Damacy in how charming it is. The pixel art is gorgeous, the color palettes are subdued in a way that makes such vastly different environments feel cohesive to one project. The character designs are as charming as ever, most of Onion Games stuff has a distinct look to it, and it's not absent here. The music is great too, ranging from old classical music, to new tracks in the same vein. It acts as a nice background since so many goofy and wacky sound effects layer over the music.

The gameplay isn’t noteworthy, but it doesn’t have to be. I heard someone recently talking about how Shmups have almost become synonymous with Bullet-Hells, and it really struck me how few Shmups are slower paced. It's refreshing to see something that isn’t as intense in the same genre. It allows the player to focus on the presentation more and fits better with the tone of the game.

I think Black Bird understands that it's not a monolithic title, and it's all the better for it. Onion Games really honed in on what their vision for the game was, and it turned out great.

I really enjoyed my time with ZeroRanger. I don’t quite have the lexicon built up to talk about Shmups (I haven’t played that many), but I feel pretty confident that ZeroRanger excels in comparison to most of its competition. The structure of the game gives a large focus to elements that often feel tacked on in these types of arcade-y games, namely the scoring and continue systems. It should be noted that it's not just that these elements are incorporated in a way that incentivizes players to engage with them, but they are also used in interesting narrative ways. It feels elegant in a way that most games' core design isn’t.

It's especially noteworthy that these changes are implemented so well because of how many games simply copy older games’ design. Lots of old games have systems built in place because they were common at the time. This isn't a shocking revelation, but a whole lot of design trends have become outdated. Yet at the same time, if you were to make a modern Shmup, you would be heavily criticized if you didn't include a score system, or a limited continue systems, etc. ZeroRanger sidesteps both of these grievances by being cleverly built to accommodate the best parts of arcade-y games, while still feeling modern with its approach by elevating each aspect.

My favorite part (to no one’s surprise) was the presentation. Such a bold color palette is used expertly to create vastly different atmospheres throughout the four levels. Really incredible stuff visually. But it's not just that it's well executed, it's that it's unique. A lot of games can have excellent visuals by most metrics, but they don’t tend to stand out in my mind the way that a Green and Orange color palette does. It’s bold, and it’s all the better for it.

The music is of course the highlight. Sky XXXX Days, The Sea Has Returned, It May Be Greenish, Despair, the list goes on. I couldn’t do justice talking about them here, just listen to them. A lot of the music hit especially close to home after playing Void Stranger, since the games share a lot of motifs.

I couldn’t recommend ZeroRanger enough. I tried not to touch on the spoiler stuff because you should play it for yourself. Between ZeroRanger and Void Stranger, System Erasure has solidified themselves as one of my favorite developers. I heavily anticipate whatever they release next.

“Analyzed in a vacuum, The Minish Cap could be considered a great game.”

This was the core sentiment that stuck in my mind for the entire duration of the game. Divorced from the series that it takes so many cues from, I think that The Minish Cap could be captivating. That’s not to say it would be perfect, even removed from my biggest criticism it's not a perfect game. However, when reflecting on my time with The Minish Cap, I couldn’t see past the game’s identity crisis. So many cues are taken from other titles, that it doesn’t feel like iteration, it feels like plagiarism. This was constantly at the forefront of my consciousness as I played the game, and I suspect that the unoriginality is even worse than I could pick up on (I haven’t played every title in the series, most notably Four Swords).

This isn’t to say that The Minish Cap is a bad title, but that most of its quality is undermined with the knowledge of how much it copies from other entries in the series. I certainly am not an expert in the Zelda series, but my whole playthrough was constantly bogged down by the knowledge that I was retreading series staples.

Before continuing and giving just some of the examples that stood out to me, I would like to clarify that not all copying is bad. There is a larger discussion to be had about whether anything EVER is original (although I tend to disagree with this), but my point is that almost all art is built upon the backs of that which came before. There are very few examples of that which is entirely original in any medium, and that isn’t an entirely bad thing. This is especially notable in the Zelda series (it might be my biggest problem with Zelda as a whole) but usually Zelda games have an identity of their own. Taking prior concepts and using them in interesting ways can be a great way to further explore old ideas. Likewise, combining two ideas to make something entirely original is a great way to build upon what came before. This can be seen all across the entire Zelda series, but in the interest of brevity I’ll only be talking about how The Minish Cap fails to do this.

An easy example would be the music. So much is taken from other games and in uninteresting ways. A lot of games use leitmotif to great effect, but most of the songs in Minish Cap are direct copies, not references. Even specific sound effects seem to have been reused, but compressed to fit on the GBA.

In terms of visual identity, it takes cues from WindWaker. NPC’s, cutscene visuals, character and enemy designs, color palette etc. the list goes on. This isn’t my biggest gripe with the game, but of all the titles I’ve played, it certainly feels the most derivative in visuals.

The game is structured very similarly to A Link to the Past and Link’s Awakening. This is in large part because of the 2D DNA that they share, but it still is hard to not notice just how similarly the games unfold. Granted, almost all of Zelda has the same structure (especially the 2D games) but I don’t feel inclined to let MC off the hook when there are 7 prior topdown Zeldas. The first ones don’t have this issue, because they established a formula, but by 7 it has already ran its course.

The areas are more of the same. The dungeons are more of the same. The story is more of the same. Aside from the Minish themselves, and Ezlo, I would say that the Minish Cap has next to no identity of its own. There are other minor gripes I had with the game, but nothing came close to just how mind numbing of a journey it was. I understand loving Zelda, and the Minish Cap by no means is bad; That being said, it makes no sense to me why praise wouldn’t be showered on the unique entries as opposed to this.

In many ways, I think comparison is a disservice. Although it often serves as an easy point of reference, it can carry unintended consequences. ESA could be classified as a Metroidvania. Hell, I would even classify it as a Metroidvania. The problem with that comparison is that ESA offers an experience that differs greatly from its contemporaries. Yes, that experience is adjacent to Super Metroid, Hollow Knight, Blasphemous, Symphony of the Night, etc. but to hone in on their similarities would undermine that uniqueness that each of those games (ESA included) brings to the table.

Maybe a better comparison would be to a game like TUNIC, where the most interesting part of the game can’t be gleaned from a simple genre-based comparison. Both of these have layers upon layers of secrets and puzzles lying in plain sight. Both of them have expansive post-games that require the player to engage with them in non-conventional ways. Both of these games appear to be iterations of their respective genres (for TUNIC, just look at the protagonists' design as proof of this alone), and they both use this to exceed the players expectations. This was the part of ESA that I loved the most, and it’s the part that most won’t worry to talk about due to the favorability of taking a direct comparison to Super Metroid.

It's this aspect that allows ESA to stand among the giants of the genre, not as a direct competitor for the spotlight, but as an equally worthy experience that is content in a supporting role.

In my mind there are two types of indie games. Firstly, there are those that try to emulate their AAA counterparts, to varying degrees of success. Think Hollow Knight or Disco Elysium and how they are fairly standard attempts of an already existing genre, Metroidvania and CRPG respectively. Then there is the “weird idea” indies, that can vary from unique, one-mechanic experiences to small budget amalgamations from a small team. Think Downwell with its three button arcadey action, or Rain World with just how unique this “survival” game headed by a small handful of people is.

Both of these types of indie games can be successful, although they have different weaknesses in my mind. The first often doesn't have the budget or time to develop something with the scale of AAA releases. This is why they often emulate older, more niche genres. Hollow Knight isn’t competing with Red Dead Redemption, it's competing with Super Metroid (a game with less than 20 developers). This allows them to side step the pitfalls of being a small team, and why there are very few open-world indie games.

The second’s problem is that they often don't get fully fleshed out. Think QWOP or Flappy Bird, where the gameplay is unique, but it doesn’t go anywhere with the idea. This isn’t a given, I mentioned Downwell and it fits well into this category, but has enough unique content to warrant it being a full release. It’s short, it’s arcadey, and both of those factors help it to thrive under that very small development.

I say all of this to bring up that Chicory lies somewhere in between, and I think it’s the most interesting thing to talk about with it. It’s intriguing to think about an alternate timeline where Chicory leaned into either of these two indie archetypes. Chicory could very easily have just been a digital coloring book, nothing more than a collection of screenshots to color in just for the fun of it. Alternatively, Chicory could have leaned much harder into the puzzle and Metroidvania elements hiding beneath its surface, putting a higher emphasis on boss battles, scattering enemies all around the world, and slapping on a traditional combat system.

Chicory adopts the strengths of both game types in order to make something wholly unique, that still has all the substance of traditional titles. This isn’t to say that Chicory is flawless or above criticism, but solely that Chicory accomplishes something that very few others do. I think this is the indie dream: making something that can only come from the creativity and passion of a smaller team, but still making it a fully fledged release.

Chicory stars [insert food name here] and their journey of becoming the ‘Wielder,’ an individual tasked with bringing color to the world. For me at least, their name was Pizza. Pizza’s journey sprawls the providence of Picnic, a land filled with jungle, city, ocean, and mountain. As you progress, your main focus is to rid the land of a botanic plague, trees that stem from the previous Wielder. This core relationship, between your predecessor, Chicory, and you, is used to communicate a story about art, insecurity, and the creative process.

As you progress through the game, you continuously ‘level up’ your relationship with The Brush. This is manifested through new abilities that contribute to the aforementioned Metroidvania elements. This was the coolest part of the game in my opinion, and I was consistently surprised by both how unique the upgrades were, and how much they changed traversal throughout Picnic. Take the paint swimming for example. There are small passageways that Pizza can now fit through via swimming. This is the “lock & key” aspect synonymous with the genre. However, Chicory understands that abilities should have more impact on the game than just being that traditional “lock & key.” It adds additional utility to swimming, by allowing the player to move faster while swimming.


I know it sounds dumb to praise something as simple as a movement speed buff while swimming, but it goes beyond that. This acts as an incentive to paint in the world around you (something that matches well with the narrative) as well as rewarding players for going the extra step to color in the ground, with quicker movement. Metroidvanias are notorious for backtracking, and quicker backtracking cuts down on a lot of the tedium.

This extends to other abilities as well. The jump acts as a way to cross gaps that were previously uncrossable (“lock and key”). It also allows you to now jump off of cliff faces, meaning that you don’t have to redo cliff-swimming puzzles when moving backwards through an area. Swimming in water now allows you to cross bodies of water to access new areas (“lock and key”). However, most early areas are segmented by water, and this allows you to use rivers as shortcuts, once again cutting down on backtracking when you get this ability late in the game.

This was by far my favorite part of the game, seeing how well thought out each ability was, how many new routes were opened by each, and just how well they paired with the excellent level design.

The coloring aspect of the game is obviously the main selling point. Aside from knowing Lena Raine composed the soundtrack (they killed it), this was the only other thing I knew before heading into Chicory. In many ways, I don’t think they could improve on the coloring aspect of the game. So much effort went into this aspect of the game, and I would like to list a few that stood out to me.

1. Restricting the player to a set of 4 colors allows for three distinct outcomes. The first is that it allows the player to not get distracted choosing colors. Limitations breed creativity, at least that’s how the saying goes. The second is that by changing the color palette between zones, it allows for the areas to have distinct visual identities. This is an especially notable feat for a game that is all black and white outside of player input. The third is tied into the second, and how being given different colors for each zone affects how you approach coloring the landscape. Essentially, you avoid the monotony of coloring every repeat asset the same color across the whole game and you force the player to get creative with the given colors. Trying to choose what color to use for each object, while keeping consistent for an area, can be challenging while keeping visually appealing coloring.

2. Great lengths were taken to make the coloring easy for players. Not everyone is good at drawing (heaven knows I’m not) but they have given options to not just allow for unskilled artists to draw efficiently, but give freedom to talented artists. For example, you can hold down to fill an area. This looks nice, fills it to the edge, and fills large spaces quickly. Another example would be the quickly adjustable size of your brush. If you are solely focused on solving puzzles, you might equip the largest brush. If you are wanting to add lots of detail so that each object is more than just one color, you might have the smallest brush equipped along with the zoom in. If you want a comfortable middle ground, use the medium. It’s the small touches like this that allow for drawing to be as simple or complex as one might want.

3. There are additional unlocks that add complexity if the player wants it. Want to break the 4 color restriction? You can now customize a permanent (and optional!) selection of 8 chosen RGB values. Want to add detail quickly? There are brush textures that you can use to make surfaces striped, or polka dotted, or a mix of the two. Want to be given a straight-edge tool? There’s a brush for that. Want to change the otherwise static environment? Drop furniture you’ve found.

All of this is to say that the drawing in this game is made exceptionally well, especially with how it ties into gameplay elements. Most of the puzzles are crafted around drawing and simple platformers. The ‘bosses’ take damage via your scribbles. The drawing isn’t a gimmick, it's a core feature that Chicory wouldn’t be the same without.

However, it's the drawing that holds my one true gripe with the game. That of course is the decision to color in screens or not. These both come with downsides that I haven’t found a way to reconcile. Either the pacing is killed by coloring in each screen cleanly, taking great care to make it look good, or your game looks shitty, with blobs of ink cast awkwardly over the screen and most of the environment left in their original black and white state. Neither of these are very good options and I found myself flopping between them throughout the game's runtime.

In some areas, such as Banquet Rainforest and Dinners, I went to great lengths to color in the whole environment, sticking with a consistent coloring scheme for the whole area. I am really satisfied with how they look, and it adds a lot to the atmosphere of both areas to have a consistent visual identity. However, it took me a long time to color these in, especially with the Banquet Rainforest, an area that takes up a large portion of the overall gameworld and is filled with lots of little objects.

However, in some areas, such as Brunch Canyon and Spoons Island, I just rushed through without coloring much more than what was needed to solve puzzles. These areas were where I had the most fun, engaging with the puzzles in rapid succession. However, looking at the overworld map and just how blank it all looks left a hollow feeling that I didn’t experience with the other areas. Pizza is The Wielder after all, shouldn't they be coloring everything? It’s also worth mentioning how much I enjoyed returning to the areas I put effort into, because they looked so good! Alternatively, the areas that I mostly skipped, I ran through with guilt on repeat ventures.

This dual natured interaction with the coloring was something I struggled with for the whole game, and never found myself fully satisfied with either way. Maybe I was just really slow at coloring, and it’s more of an issue with me than the game, but I never found myself able to color quickly at a level that I found visually appealing.

My other big complaint was with the writing. Most games don’t have great, or really even good writing. Chicory falls into the trap where in an effort to keep interactions brief they skimp out on depth of characters. The other type of writing that I found to be annoying was the ‘quirky’ characters. Many writers, especially in games, fail to land non-conventional characters, and Chicory is no exception. By no means is the writing terrible in Chicory, but in comparison with the visuals and music, it definitely leaves a lot to be desired.

I liked the message of Chicory quite a lot. As someone who struggles to be motivated in their creative passions, it hit home pretty hard. Art is something that I place a high value on, maybe even the thing that I place the highest. Chicory not only reminded me that the people in our lives are what really matter, but also that I’m not worthless because of my lack of creative output. Thank you everyone who worked on the game, it’s something that my low self-esteem always needs to hear.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Chicory. I have a feeling that it will stick in my mind for a long time to come. It's the kind of game you wish you would've made, leaving that jealousy that others can be so talented and make such good art. The message of the game is pretty contrary to that feeling, but I'm only human. It's too relatable in a sense to see all the failure and struggle that artists go through. There's beauty everywhere, no matter how small. Even the janitor can create art, so why shouldn't I?

Keita Takahashi just knows how to make me emotional I guess. His approach reminds me a lot of Shigesato Itoi. In a way, most game developers are trying hard than ever to make games legitimate in comparison with other mediums. So many want to make their dramatic, pretentious "experience" and yet few are able to achieve that. I guess what I like about Itoi and Takahashi's approach is that they are just earnest. They want to make something with a lot of passion, they want it to be wholesome. They don't care if they are taken seriously, and yet their simple stories are able to pack emotion.

Wattam is able to switch mood really well, which is weird to say about a game with literal 'shit' in it. Maybe this is due in large part to the simplicity of visuals, or the diverse soundtrack, I'm not quite sure. It's always silly, and there is an underlying childishness throughout its runtime, and yet it had me in many different headspaces throughout. Mayor turning into Detective was genuinely hilarious. Maybe it was just the expression on his face, with the stubble around his mouth, and quickly sketched eyes. Then the Father goes on a monologue about losing his wife and kids, which is kinda fucked up for such a baby-sensory game. The Moon expresses an inner dialogue about the vein aspects that led him to be essentially a villain. This constant flipping of tone is weird, but it works? It's not some masterpiece, but it does work.

Wattam was refreshing to play, and is wholly unique. For that, I can appreciate it. It does feel really weird to write more than a one-liner for such a "dumb" game, but that's just an indicator of how special Wattam is.

It's a weird experience to play something that you've heard so much about for the first time. Especially when you have no expectations, only the knowledge of how influential it is. It's not a perfect game, but it does feel transcendent to the medium of video games. Kojima has famously gone on record about how much he loves film, and this really does feel like the first time that a game was able to emulate the qualities that make movies so great. It's flashy, it's goofy, it's over the top, it's dramatic, it's iconic. It's Metal Gear Solid.

I loved my time with it. It does some weird meta stuff (which I'm sure was mind blowing at the time), but it doesn't really hit me hard. It has a wacky story, told via SO MUCH exposition. It really makes me appreciate games that try to tell their story through their gameplay. The gameplay is well crafted, but it's hindered by it's control scheme and weird boss designs. You can find all sorts of stuff to nit-pick if you really try. None of this really effected how I felt by the end though, so I won't hamper on about it.

MGS is a game that's more than the sum of its parts. I loved it, and I don't have much to say beyond that. At least not much to say that hasn't already been said.

Kirby 64 is a game I played a lot as a kid. I'm not particularly sure why my older brother got it on the VC, but I have a lot of nostalgia for this game. It's a very simple game, but there is so much charm. Maybe that's the appeal of Kirby by and large, but none of the other games that I've tried have captured this same spirit. I love this era of Nintendo so much, back when they threw caution to the wind and just created. I think that's how most of the best art is made, without reservation. Kirby 64 isn't a flawless game, but it doesn't need to be for me to love it.

This review contains spoilers

I honestly don’t know why I despised this game so much. I have a few theories (we’ll get to them) but they don’t really account for how negatively I feel towards this game. Maybe I’m just not the target audience, or maybe I just didn’t “get it.” Either way, I’d like to talk about it.

For those who don’t know, The Messenger has a twist about half way through, and people have varying reactions to it. I am strongly in the negative camp. My main problem is how the world is designed. It wants so badly to be a “Metroidvania,” but it already built its levels around the old school, action platformer design that the first half of the game was going for. What this means is that you have a very linear world, and to build the Metroidvania around it, you have to branch out of that initial world. This doesn’t work well, because you have to retread so much ground, over and over again, but never in interesting ways. Each screen is designed to be cleared in one way, so you just have to play the same sections repeatedly until you stumble upon a secret. For me at least, it was exhausting to just be running through the same levels looking for any clue of where to go next. Then when I thought I had an idea of where I was supposed to go, I would travel there, only for it to be a dead end. Maybe this was a fault of mine, but it really sucked to have to go backwards through the same exact screens I just already went through, because I guessed wrong.

Other games in the genre sidestep this issue via two solutions: non-linear level design, and shortcuts that cut back on backtracking. The Messenger has several links in between levels, but this doesn’t solve the issue of going down a linear branch off of the main route, and then having to go back. The only way to keep this design and alleviate the tedium is to teleport out. The only problem here is that places on the overworld to teleport to are too far spread out. Other games avoid this problem by always having somewhere close by where you can go if you get stuck.

Metroidvanias are all about having these large maps where progression is gated by upgrades. The best ones understand the value of multiple different progression paths. I don’t want to directly compare to other games (because I’m HEAVILY biased), but it is very unfortunate that in those moments where I did find a dead end, it was a progression path, I was just missing an upgrade. I think I got more unlucky than most, but I did find almost every pathway, and nearly cleared the whole map before I got a key upgrade that allowed me to access those next “gated areas.”

Combat is pretty dull imo. The movement system, and one button combat hinders both player expression, and how far the devs are able to push the boss design. I understand that it was designed to call back to retro titles, but I don’t understand why we couldn’t improve on the base those games gave us. Game design has evolved to give us better solutions to common design problems. For example, the devs got rid of a limited life system, because that creates a lot of tedium. If they are willing to compromise here, I don’t understand why they can’t try to improve on basic gameplay. The retro aesthetic, animation, and level design already call back to those games, is that not enough?

I don’t know if anyone else was nearly as bothered by the writing in this game as I was, but it was incredibly annoying to say the least. I get the more meta, aware approach to writing can be fun, but they don’t expand upon that premise. It’s always little quips about archetypes and tropes. Its relentless, and maybe my least favorite part of the whole game. Maybe it’s just not my type of “comedy,” but I found it very amateur.

Some of the music was just as bothersome. Don’t get me wrong, I love chiptune music, but a few of the tracks became really grating. I don’t think I’ve played another game where I was constantly thinking about how bad the music was, which is a shame. Some of the tracks were pretty good, but the rotten few spoil my overall perception of the soundtrack.


I have some other minor nitpicks, such as the tacked on upgrade system, but I’ll save that for another time. It really sucks that The Messenger doesn’t capitalize on its premise more, because I think it's a really interesting one. I’m just glad that these guys were successful, because Sea of Stars looks fantastic, and I look forward to playing that (the demo was great).

It's a short game, so I'll keep my thoughts short.

Downwell is a game that does a lot with very little. It only has 3 colors in all of it's art, it only has 3 buttons to control Welltaro for the entire game. These are just the clearest examples, but it really is a simple game. Yet it reminds me of games like Celeste that are able to use all aspects of their design in interesting and elegant ways. Everything in Downwell revolves around the premise that you are falling down a well. The game play is structured around this gameplay, but its not just how your character controls, but how everything else is built to challenge that premise.

For example, enemies can either be shot with your boots, or stomped on. The game then introduces enemies that can't be stomped on, so the player then has to prioritize shooting them, and stomping others. There are also these large 'skull' enemies that become more hostile after being shot, so the player is incentivized to stomp on them so that they don't enter that aggressive state.

This elegant design can also be seen with how the boots function. Your boots are controlled with your jump button when you are airborne, and they give you a way to suspend yourself while in the air. This act of using you boots not just for shooting, but also for movement is crucial in entering that 'flow state' that gameplay oriented games try to get you in. Its about reading the layout of the room, and then figuring out the best path to kill all enemies, grab all loot, and avoid damage. This movement with the boots becomes especially important when you reach the 4th area, but I won't spoil why.

The only "problem" with Downwell is that it doesn't go beyond the initial premise. I don't think that the three man team were trying to create one of the best games ever, so I don't hold this against the game really. Downwell is nearly perfect at what it does, it just doesn't do anything that new or interesting.

It's sad to me that many people who would enjoy this game (maybe even those who would enjoy it the most) are people who view it as 'just another soulslike.' I really don't understand the FromSoft allegiance that so many people have. If Hidetaka Miyazaki was in the credits, maybe everyone would collectively open their eyes to the realization that this is the best in the genre. People say its derivative of Souls, and yes, it is. But Elden Ring is even more so and look at the praise that game gets. It really does boggle my mind that a) no one is willing to take this game seriously because its a soulslike, and b) I just said Twink Souls is the best in the genre, and I meant it.

It's got the best weapons, although I could see the argument for Bloodborne.
It's got the best combat system (it's essentially Sekiro, but with rally tied into the blocking system, stamina, and multiple weapons).
It has the most consistent boss line up, with no gimmick fights or bullshit difficulty spikes.
Its world is just as interesting as anything FromSoft has done, combining Pinocchio's elements into an interesting narrative about what it means to be human.
It has better music than any of FromSoft’s games, and it's incorporated diegetically in some really cool ways.
It’s my second favorite for visuals, Elden Ring’s grandeur really can’t be beat.
I think it's also the most polished ‘soulslike’ game, they’ve done away with some of the jank FromSoft wears on its sleeves.

Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but I’m assuming that most people that disagree haven’t even played the game. Assuming you don’t have a spiritual connection with one of FromSoft’s previous games, I really can’t see how you would like any of their works, and not this.

I guess the only two strikes against Lies of P in my eyes is that it doesn’t have that ‘WOW’ factor and the level design. Then again the only game in the series that did those for me is DS1 (although Sekiro was close at both.)

I don’t write any of this to shit on FromSoft, or their fanbase, but more to tell anyone that hasn’t played it to reconsider. I genuinely do believe every word I said above. Even if you don’t end up agreeing, it is worth your time if you enjoy these types of games.



Coming back to this review, I think I would need another playthrough if I really wanted to stand by all this. Not sure how I would feel about it now.

There are a lot of people who talk about this game with hushed lips. I can see how this is frustrating for people that want a fuller recommendation and for those who didn’t enjoy it as much as people like me. If I’m being honest, it's probably wiser to just act as another voice echoing the “this game is great, just go play it mentality,” because this game DESERVES to be played unspoiled. If you like games in general, and are even slightly interested in it, give it a go. Stop reading this, you owe it to yourself to play a game as good as Void Stranger blind.

However, this game really is special. I really, really want to talk about it more in depth, and this site is where I talk about games. I will keep it very light on spoilers. I have been that spiteful person that continues to read/watch/listen past the spoiler warning, and I’ve often regretted it, so I refuse to actually spoil this game in full.

So what is Void Stranger? For those uninitiated, it's a 2D sokoban puzzle game. Sokoban is a genre that stems from the 1982 title of the same name, where the goal was to push around boxes in a warehouse. What you need to understand from this description is that everything is on a grid, including the player. Think Minecraft in 2D, but you can only move in increments of 1 block. Some more notable games in the same vein are 2019’s ‘Baba is You,’ and 2016’s ‘Stephen’s Sausage Roll.’ Sokoban games focus on creating puzzles in these grid like environments, usually with a gimmick that restructures the already existing format of Sokoban. In Stephen’s Sausage Roll, it's the fork. In Baba is You, it's how objects are defined in the space of play. And in Void Stranger, it's moving around the environment with a wand. It's these limitations that help Sokoban games to focus on their puzzles, as opposed to other titles that are games WITH puzzles, not puzzle games. The simple structure of Sokoban games (which oftentimes don’t have much more than four directional input) that allows the designer to hand craft situations to test the players wits, without having to account for a myriad of variables.

As far as structure in puzzle games go, I find it hard for a game to juggle narrative and gameplay in a coherent way. The easiest way I can describe this is by looking at various puzzle games and seeing which they decide to focus on. Tetris is a arcade-y puzzle game with no story, yet elegantly designed gameplay. Baba is You is the same, where there is no overarching narrative connecting the puzzles. These games are able to achieve good puzzles by not worrying about telling a narrative at all and just focusing on mechanics. Then you have games like the Portal series where the gimmicks behind the puzzles are fun to interact with, but the puzzles are kinda shit. However, I think these games are great (in particular Portal 1) because they use the premise of solving puzzles to create an interesting story. It also helps the pacing of the story, since the player isn’t very likely to get stuck on a hard puzzle (the puzzles are really easy). This approach is easy to see in playtime as well. The Portal games can easily be beaten in one sitting (I did so with both on my first playthroughs), yet the harder puzzle games might require hours for a single puzzle.

Now to be clear, I don’t think it is a fault of any of the mentioned games. They focus on only one of the two aspects mentioned and I like both approaches. I mainly bring this up to highlight that Void Stranger is able to do both. It's not that Void Stranger has a good story with a good puzzle game slapped on, or vice versa, but that they aid each other to elevate the whole experience.

It's here where I would like to interject with another spoiler warning, but with a bit more explanation as to why you should go play, as opposed to just saying go play. If you like hard puzzle games, you will probably like Void Stranger. If you like games with good stories, and are willing to put up with difficult puzzles, you will probably like Void Stranger. But most important to the discussion of spoilers, if you like what I would call “Mechanical Learning” games (some people call these Metroid-Branias) such as Outer Wilds, TUNIC, or Her Story, you will probably like Void Stranger. If you’ve played any of those titles, then I think you can begin to understand why the community surrounding this game is so careful with its spoilers.

It's this last element of design that allows for the game to intertwin gameplay and narrative so elegantly. This is because of how these “Mechanical Learning” games work. They operate in the design space that we might call ‘Meta’ gaming. Where part of the game is designed to interact with the player to a certain extent. Puzzles for the sake of puzzles can be boring, and yet, a game with a really good story that is constantly interrupted by tons of gameplay might also be considered to have bad pacing. It’s through this interactive part of the game that players that are attracted to both types of puzzle games can become more easily invested. When done correctly, meta stuff is often among the best stories games have to offer, mostly because of how unique it is to the medium of video games. Likewise, by incorporating these story elements into the game (as opposed to more and more cutscenes, exposition dumps, and item descriptions that modern games love to use) you actually get the benefit of having your story be directly tied to gameplay.

Void Stranger is a game where your understanding of it will be reshaped over and over as you continue to progress through the game. When you start the game for the first time, following a settings screen, you’ll be presented the opportunity to draw your own brand. This, along with the “inscription” you can inspect in the first room of the game, seem very obtuse and archaic by design. If you’re like me, these are the kinds of details that will stick out in your mind as you progress, wondering what purpose they serve, and why the devs so intentionally stuck them at the very beginning. It's this sort of prodding at your imagination that Void Stranger excels at. It's a game that rewards your observation with progress on larger mysteries found in the void. If these details elude you however, it will become immediately apparent that not everything is what it seems down here upon your first death. For most this will happen early on, so I don’t feel it's too big a spoiler, but essentially the game directly asks you to make a choice regarding how to proceed. This choice does have significance, but realization of what that significance is won’t happen until much later.

It's the process of learning new ways to interact with your environment that I love in these games. Learning new tricks by testing hypotheses is such a cool way to reward player curiosity. There isn’t much more to say about the meta elements without fully discussing spoilers. For me at least, they were really fun to interact with, and I had many “Holy Shit”, jaw on the floor moments. At least 5, which might be the most any individual game has had me in that mindset. I LOVED Void Stranger during these moments. Trying to piece together progression on a larger scale than individual puzzle rooms was just plain fun. I cannot praise this aspect of the game enough.

If you’ll allow a hard segway, the puzzles can be really difficult. Especially the “post-credit” content I found to be really hard when I “fully engaged” with it. This is the one reason why I’m hesitant to recommend Void Stranger to everyone. I’m really grateful I did all the hardest puzzles, as there is a good pay off at the end of all the content, and I really felt a sense of accomplishment by overcoming it. I think there was only one puzzle that I found to be unfair in the entire game, and that was the only time I had to consult a guide. I would consider that a success. It's very hard to talk about a puzzle game’s puzzles without visual cues, and without giving away the ‘a-ha’ moments where you begin to understand how to interact with simple mechanics, so all I can say was that I enjoyed it thoroughly.

The story, although simple, I found to be really compelling. It gets better the more you put into it, so I would highly recommend trying to find all narrative content. There was one scene in particular that had me nearly well up, and I think it was well earned. The Mother-Daughter dynamic feels fully fleshed out, although I can’t really dive too far in without more spoilers. As someone who doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with their parents, I found myself re-evaluating my own relationships thanks to this game. I don’t think I can give much more praise to a story than saying that it has affected me outside of my playtime, so I will leave it there for my thoughts on the game.



Miscellaneous thoughts that didn’t fit into the script:

The sound track is phenomenal. Like seriously, not just good, great.

I love the atmosphere in the game. I think it's easiest to feel when you walk into a ‘tree room’, but I love how it adapts as you find more secrets. Coming to an understanding of where you actually are, and what that place is, is hinted at far before you reach an actual explanation which I found to be really cool.

I loved all the little moments with NPC’s. This game doesn’t have sprawling prose or flashy use of figurative language, but I thought that all the writing was fitting for all the characters. That’s really all you need to be successful, and I’m glad that it was so focused. Not everything can be a Disco Elysium or a Planescape: Torment, and to be honest, not everything should be.

If you read this, thank you. Play Void Stranger.

My only issue that I think most can agree on is difficulty. When I beat the hardest level on my 2nd try, I think its safe to say that the game needs a little re-balancing. I get its a kids game, but there are more ways to make the game easier for yourself than ever, so I don't understand why the game is so incredibly easy at the base difficulty from start to finish.

As for my biggest issue, it felt very safe, for lack of a better word. Its weird to me that people criticized 3D Zelda so much for feeling formulaic before Breath of the Wild, yet Wonder just feels like more of the same, but with excellent presentation and a few new ideas. I don't really know how to feel about this one, but maybe that's why I'm giving it a middling score. It didn't leave an impression on me, which makes it very easy to forget.

Maybe this is just me, but it feels like the constant franchising of gaming is leading to games that don't really try anything new. If you think that the Wonder gimmick is enough to differentiate it from the rest, than I'm more than happy to disagree. I can't help but wonder (no pun intended) what this game could be if it didn't have to stick to tried and true design conventions, and could really go all in with some of the more unique ideas in the game.