Sayonara Wild Hearts is simultaneously dreamlike and exhilarating, blending deeply satisfying, high-speed arcade-rhythm gameplay; a brilliant soundtrack that's bursting at the seams with excitement; beautiful, stylish neon art; fluid, emotive animations; and insane camera work that made me feel like I was flying through a movie.

The game is ultimately an exploration of post-breakup grief. Despite being frequently abstract and symbolic, Sayonara Wild Hearts' narrative seamlessly weaves between the game's stunning sights and sounds to push you to feel the deep pain that accompanies heartbreak — but also, the amazing, exhilarating joy of coming out the other side alive and brimming with more love for yourself and others than you thought was possible.

The game does all of this while remaining unusually accessible for those of us who are less skilled. Sayonara Wild Hearts autosaves progress frequently throughout each level, allowing players to replay sections after a hiccup instead of forcing a hard restart. Whenever I'd fail a section a few times, it nonjudgmentally empowered me to skip that section, should I so choose. Through these key design choices and the game's intentionally simple controls, I felt like the developers were encouraging me to to be curious, put faith in my intuition, and take risks.

A powerfully evocative game. I highly recommend it.

The Flame in the Flood is a visually appealing game with gorgeous, mournful music. I really admired its atmospheric tension; the game expertly threads the needle between tentative hope and creeping despair.

However, the extent to which I was forced to micromanage my inventory severely hampered my enjoyment. I understand strict inventory item caps were likely implemented to encourage players to think strategically about what they pick up, but at a certain point inventory management started to swallow the game whole.

The Flame in the Flood also doesn't pause gameplay while you're navigating its menus. This feature in a vacuum isn't a flaw, but it becomes extremely frustrating when combined with a constant need for inventory micromanagement. I died more than once after being attacked by creatures that the inventory menu was blocking me from noticing while I tediously combined item stacks from my backpack with item stacks in my dog companion's inventory.

I think it would have been much better to implement a feature where excessive inventory starts to slows your character (similar to The Long Dark) instead of having strict inventory item caps. This would encourage players to be mindful of what they pick up but in a less frustrating, more immersive manner.