Lobotomy-core.
A frankenstein's parody has been birthed from excessive market research. Pure and utter slob, the gunk is thrown wayside to the masses and the public seem to love it! Sure, I can see shimmers of gusto and vibes past it's mechanically stapled together body, but is it really worth to sit next to the soulless stank just to breathe in those few and far-between moments of joy?
I feel for the paranoid hostility players have shown of the maybe or maybe-not generative AI, but it just seems like the devs just ripped them off by hand and lol.
7 million copies sold in just 5 days... and in the end, the general masses really do only care about a feature-checklist stapled on a clipboard that reads the following: It shall have combat, survival mechanics, resources, base-building mechanics, crafting mechanics, catching mechanics, climbing mechanics, stamina, an open world, co-op multiplayer, skill trees, leveling and progression. Does it work well together? Absolutely not. In the end, it feels like you are just playing 5 ripped-off games melted together into one hotpot of mechanics and rules and nothing more. No identity, no message, nothing. A silent shell that just spits out the steam chart trends back at you.
How is anyone supposed to feel but indifferent to a game that says nothing and dares nothing?

looking back 10 years after its release, it's clear that proteus possesses the bones of something beautiful, but it's not fleshed out. to be certain there is some joy to be found in this vibrant world that is so alive despite being so simple. to be honest i wasn't expecting to come out of the experience with a newfound appreciation for it, only revisiting it in preparation to to Bernband, but booting it up and visiting that island once again is like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, a familiar and comforting feeling. along the way i kept discovering things i had forgotten, little details that on their own perhaps don't add up to much, but when taken in totality make the experience much more enjoyable than i remember. call it nostalgia, call it a change in perspective, but i think proteus is a better work than many - myself included - have given it credit for.

There's a story in my head that I've been searching for, searching for as long as I can remember. Somewhere along the way, I realised that I couldn't find it anywhere else, and would have to tell it myself. Until I found Umurangi Generation.

This isn't that story, exactly, but it was a hand reaching out across the vastness of digital space, resting on my shoulder, telling me I'm not alone. We're all here, all watching the same thing on the same screens, but seeing different things through different eyes. Living in the final moments before the light burns out forever, making what we can with what little we have.

Few games are so evocative and creative and atmospheric. Few works of fiction period feel so intensely relatable to me.

A modern masterpiece.

There's a certain joy in not knowing. In avoiding trailers and hype, screenshots and terminally online discussion. You find certain sources - people, publishers, developers - that you trust, and then you simply experience their output and recommendations. No teaser needed, no hook to draw you in. They've earned the blind leap.

Which is how I came to Cocoon. Didn't know the genre, hadn't seen a single screen. Downloaded it, booted it up. Little beetle man, running around. Fairly standard lug and tug puzzles and then: the leap. Upwards and outwards into the understanding that the little world you were in is just that: a little world, subject to the same lug and tug rules. Instantly smitten, excited, thinking about all the ways things could unfold.

It certainly doesn't hurt that the game is wonderfully tactile, enigmatic and alive and alien. The soundscape resonates perfectly. Little musical swells let you know when you're walking into the solution of a puzzle, insectile feet clink and clank pleasantly. Lovely stuff.

The puzzles? Sadly, still those standard lug and tugs, with the occasional nod to the in-and-out world hopping. You collect more orbs - worlds - with different abilities. You apply them in safe, softlock-proof puzzles, each discrete enough that you run no risk of them ever overlapping. A little poking and prodding is all you ever need to get through, even in the eleventh hour when the game starts to twist its core mechanic inward on itself.

And that's the problem, really. Cocoon is clever but safe, polished to a mirror sheen. You gloss and glide over it, meeting little resistance until you find the end. It's fun, it's gorgeous to look at and listen to, but it's playtested and designed into pursued perfection, afraid to challenge the player in any meaningful way. Which is fine. It is what it wants to be, and time spent with it is hardly wasted. Nonetheless, it could have been more. As it stands, it promises the stars but delivers the moon.