I make no secret of the fact that Valkyria Chronicles is my favourite video game series of all time. The wallpapers on all my computers, phones and handhelds are various images from the series. I talk about it with ceaseless emotion to anyone unfortunate enough to listen. I own a couple of artbooks, and I once got scammed trying to buy a Selvaria Bles figurine for a price that was too good to be true (I got the refund, though it took a month). Through the years, I've championed the series to the point that almost a dozen people have bought an entry simply because I would not shut the fuck up about it. Sega should hire me.

Here it is: the game that started it all. Valkyria Chronicles is a brilliant, innovative, emotional, gorgeously designed and somewhat flawed game that, sadly, has never risen to the place it deserves in the RPG pantheon. It has attracted a decent cult following which spends the greater portion of its time dunking on the game's main cheese strategy than anything else. Nobody hates Metallica more than Metallica fans, as they say.

Yet on a non-autistic run, this is an incredible game. It delivers turn-based strategy and real-time tactics in one addictive package. It's unique and open-ended: depending on your decisions, battles may feel like a walk in the park or a desperate crawl through the trenches of hell. When I first played through this game, it was surprisingly hard - enemies are extremely unforgiving with opening up interception fire on your units, aiming for your weak spots, and they're always given the high ground. I recommend playing this game blind for that reason, so you can become your own Sun Tzu and focus on bolstering your units, using them for their intended roles, and maintaining a steady advance rather than a subdued steamroll. On your first playthrough, you don't want to get fixated on the game's biggest flaw: the focus on speed.

As the game bases your rank and rewards for each battle solely on the number of turns you took to achieve your objective, it's impossible not to attempt cheese strategies once the endless bleating of 'Alicia scout rush' reaches your ears. Do not google this phrase. Go play the game now if you haven't already, and then come back. On my most recent playthrough, I'll say that this strategy only really works for three of the game's story battles, because of how long it takes to unlock the required materials, but that hasn't stopped it from becoming one of the game's more infamous aspects.

It is true that Valkyria Chronicles' ranking system is its biggest flaw. While you may receive extra materials, as well as EA's famous 'sense of pride and accomplishment,' for killing special enemies, these choices do not impact your rating - only the number of turns you took. A more weighted approach would have been better, particularly as A ranks are impossible to receive on later missions on an honest playthrough. So don't focus on rankings on your first run, and enjoy the game the way it's meant to be played: as a hybrid of turn-based and action RPG, of strategy and tactics, maneuvering and attacking your way to victory and glory and freedom of the land.

Valkyria Chronicles isn't award-worthy just for its gameplay, however. The game's beautiful watercolour aesthetic, gorgeous character design and battlefield presentation are not to be missed. From the comic-book style 'Ka-Boom!'s, 'vroom-vroom's and 'ratta-tatta-ta's of movement and attacks, to the seamless switch from 2D overhead to 3D third-person graphics as you begin a turn, this is an inspired, visually spectacular experience. It was one of the first games to present an anime art style in 3D with such success, and it laid the groundwork for how JRPGs would look for years to come. As usual, Valkyria Chronicles does not get credit for this.

The story is satisfying, with the World War II-inspired setting being the highlight. Valkyria Chronicles is not shy about its real-world parallels, but at the end of the day it's still a fantasy game. The plot has a few weak spots, which may be exacerbated by the mediocre English voice acting (the option to select Japanese voices is available.) But it's never egregious enough to alienate the player. Not when the characters are this likeable. Not when the soundtrack is so stirring it still gives me goosebumps. Valkyria Chronicles is endlessly compelling: the story makes you eager for more gameplay, during which you're enthusiastic for the next bit of story.

The PC port is superb, with not one glitch or flaw in all my time with it. It also includes a couple of DLC chapters, but they were made back when publishers were still figuring out how they could milk more money out of games, and they are fairly inessential. I should warn you, though: this game does not have autosave, and you do not want to overwrite your New Game+ data with a separate playthrough or DLC chapter's save, as you will lose that progress.

Got all that? Now go play it, because despite its imperfections, Valkyria Chronicles is fantastic. It was one of the most original, lovingly crafted games ever made when it came out in 2008, and it's still enjoyable today. The sequel was even better.

I was not expecting to love this as much as I did. It's not perfect for sure, but what it did right was more than enough to push it to 5 stars for me!

The combat felt THE best I've experienced in a soulslike outside of Fromsoft, even surpassing Dark Souls 2 or Lies of P for me. Aggro Crab just gets it somehow! My only gripe with the combat is just that the game got a little bit too easy towards the end. I think this is because you can unlock so many powerups that you get to a point where you can just mow enemies down without much trouble. I fought the final boss with full upgrades and took almost no damage (I didn't use assist mode a single time except to get the gun achievement post game). I would've loved to see a NG+ mode or boss rush to address this or just better scaling at least.

The platforming and movement were an absolute joy. Rolling around in one of the many incredibly creative shells and using the grappling hook had a great sense of speed. Sure some platforming sections could be janky but it never bothered me to the point of frustration. I wasn't even expecting the platforming going in so the level of quality it's at was a pleasant surprise. It also sounds like the team is hard at work on fixing bugs as well. Speaking of bugs, most of the ones I experienced just had to do with me getting launched after using certain moves. This also didn't happen often enough to frustrate me either.

The story is the other part that was a huge surprise. I was fully expecting the story to just be goofy crab shenanigans and there's for sure a lot of crab/ocean related humor that was mostly just fine and sometimes fell flat, but the main character actually goes through a lot of meaningful growth, the story gets pretty dark and serious, and it even had me on the verge of tears a few times. It wasn't a life changing story by any means, but it felt way more epic and meaningful than I could've anticipated.

The game also has a lot of references to other games which were kind of fun to discover though it felt like there were a little too many references at times. Now and then the attempts at humor even went a bit too far imo. Still, it was a great experience.

HIGHLY recommend this game to anyone who enjoys soulslike games or is looking for a challenge/different experience. I have heard about more bugs on other platforms so it could be worth waiting a while for more bug fixes. I'm feeling pretty strongly that this'll be my GOTY this year.

Bursting with personality, Hi-Fi Rush brings about hack and slash gameplay that is satisfying and intricate, more than the likes of Devil May Cry in my opinion. The music, characters, and visuals show what is a truly passionate game, where in today’s game industry filled with soulless triple A games, seeing this break out truly gives me hope for the future of gaming. Still can’t believe these are the same people who made The Evil Within, which was a good game, but lacked in flair, but we can see where all that flair was going towards.

Where were you when cyberpunk became escapism?

Look around discussions of Cyberpunk 2077 and keep track of how long it takes before someone says that they wish they could live in Night City. Watch these conversations as they turn to screenshots of scenic views and vistas, with all involved waxing poetic about getting lost in the world. See the rising glut of "comfy" cyberpunk games — DYSTOPIKA, Skid Cities, Nivalis — and remember the genre's origins, written in blood and broken teeth from beneath the heel of a corporate boot. Cyberpunk has not been a genre where hope exists. It has not been a place for people to want to be. Cyberpunk media is a warning more than anything else. Despite this, more people than ever don't just see places like Night City as an acceptable alternative, but as something to yearn for. What they have now pales to what the genre's founders threatened would come to be. It isn't difficult to understand; I spent four years in Toronto, and that city has been a fucking shithole longer than I've been alive. This is a common opinion for extant cities and towns all around the globe. But what once existed as the worst-case scenario of a dark future has since emerged as more favorable to the world we occupy today.

There's an honesty to cyberpunk media that isn't there for much else. To pull an idea from Fighting in the Age of Loneliness, our world doesn't make sense. It's all abstraction. There are no roots, no sensible causes, just an ideological superstructure over everything that never seems to be shaped by its base despite all theory suggesting that it must. The bank owns a home owned by a landlord whose mortgage you pay. Your work is dictated by a boss who is dictated by a stock market which is dictated by investors, all so far removed from what you do that they couldn't ever comprehend it, yet they remain in charge of shaping it. Your country sends locals to other countries to kill other locals and nothing ever seems to come of it besides more people being dead sooner than they would have been otherwise. Cyberpunk media offers an escape from the absurd; it puts a gun in your hand and tells you to go and blow someone's fucking head off. The cops won't stop you, you'll get paid to do it, people will celebrate you. It's brutal, and barbaric, and it'll eventually leave you with more lead in your body than blood, but it's honest. It makes sense. There's no abstraction. There's you, there's a gun, there's a computer, there's a target, there's a legend. If it doesn't change much, it'll feel good to do it. Adventurism can't even promise you that in real life.

The greatest triumph of Cyberpunk 2077 is almost inarguably in its world design, doubtless thanks to the many decades of effort put in by creator Mike Pondsmith. Whether or not CDPR did a great job in translating all of that background lore into gameplay — in empty, clean streets, packed with inaccessible buildings and linear pathways — the design of everything borders on flawless. Night City is an urban planning nightmare, all twisted highways and too-dense housing. Drive a few miles out of town, though, and it starts looking like LA suburbs; drive a bit further than that, and you hit desert. While this alone is nothing new — Grand Theft Auto 5’s Los Santos is effectively the same thing — I feel that this is pretty rare for a lot of cyberpunk media, especially in the ones that break into the mainstream. People online will talk about that “eating noodles while wearing a trenchcoat in the rain” joke a lot when it comes to their ideal cyberpunk setting, but really take a second to think about how painfully generic cyberpunk media tends to be. Everyone wears stupid clothes, lives in permanently-raining cities with neon lights running 24/7, they all listen to nothing but darksynth, they’re all either corporate goosesteppers or chromed-out hackermen. People in cyberpunk settings are almost universally treated as set dressing, as indistinct and universal as the fucking wind. There’s some real diversity to both Night City and to the people that make it up, and it goes a long, long way in making it feel like a possible outcome for the real world rather than yet another piece of computer-anarchist wish fulfillment.

The characters themselves play a large part in why players seem so desperate to live here. Night City, as presented here, is kind of just filled with decent people. Now, we can’t talk about 2077 without talking about the Edgerunners anime, so I’ll be brief. What people liked about Edgerunners, I hope, is that it did a good job of establishing how someone can slip into a street gang. Not just a cyberpunk-themed one, but in general. David’s life fucking sucks from minute one, and it doesn’t stop sucking until the day he dies. His life is dog-eared by the deaths or betrayals or both of just about every person he’s ever cared about. He starts out with no money, no opportunities, and no future. Finding his crew is a release from that, but it’s short, and it’s painful. V, by contrast, has been born with a silver spoon in their mouth. The most stark difference you’ll notice happens right at the beginning, when Viktor Vektor gives you a free 21,000 eddies worth of cyberware that you never have to pay back. This is a strong line to draw between the two works. 2077’s Night City is nice, and forgiving. Edgerunners’s Night City will swallow you whole. It makes it really kind of difficult to believe that this is such a terrible world to occupy when V never really struggles for much, due in no small part to how strong of a support structure they both start out with and discover as the game goes on.

While nowhere near as cutthroat as they perhaps ought to be, considering that the way they act runs counter to how bad you’re told the setting is, 2077 has a strong supporting cast. What helps is that most of them are flawed in fairly believable ways: Judy is an idealist in a situation where it won’t work; Panam is so emotionally stunted that nearly every conversation she has ends with her blowing up on the other party; Jackie doesn’t know when to quit; River is here. Everyone’s favorite wholesome chungus Keanu Reeves is here as Johnny Silverhand, too, and he does a good enough job playing his character that you might forget that Silverhand is supposed to look like Bowie. Something I really do love about Silverhand is that it would have been so easy to make him fall on one extreme or the other — always right or always wrong — but he straddles that line exceptionally well. Johnny spends most of the game as an insufferable asshole, but when he’s right about something, he’s very right about it. By contrast, there’s a lot of time spent on him being wrong, and there’s really nothing to ought to say to him beyond telling him to go fuck himself. It’s a nice balance, and one that CDPR couldn’t keep up through Phantom Liberty, but that’s a review for another time.

The writing, broadly speaking, is good. I think a lot of the best stuff gets tucked away in the side jobs where you can actually dig into who these characters are and what they’re about, rather than just using them as a point of contact to get more “go here and kill a guy” missions from. I’m not completely sold on this being a masterpiece once you start poking away at specific details; I remain very surprised by people who both got attached to Jackie and then were surprised to see him die. The guy is throwing death flags from the very first mission. “Mama Welles is worried about me because all of her other sons died doing exactly what I’m doing, but it’s okay, because I’m never going to die. I love being alive. Hey, bartender who works at the place where they name drinks after dead people, here’s what my drink would be.” It doesn’t help that CDPR apparently ran out of time and money and stuffed the majority of Jackie’s character development and V’s start in Night City into a montage. I don’t know for certain how much it would have helped, but I have to imagine that Jackie’s death might have hit a bit harder if the guy wasn’t gone after a grand total of two gigs.

V lives a remarkably untragic life when you really zoom out. Aside from Jackie’s death, basically everyone that V knows or cares about either continues living their lives just fine or straight up moves out of Night City to go someplace else. Evelyn’s suicide is barely felt because she’s barely known, a couple of Aldecados can bite it, some dolls die in a Tyger Claws raid, and that’s about it. When you see how easy it is for Judy to leave Night City, for Panam to leave Night City, for V to leave Night City, for River to go on the run, for Kerry to go on tour — it makes you wonder why the fuck anyone actually stays in Night City. It doesn’t really seem that hard to just bounce. Of course, this is where something like the core books or Edgerunners come in to demonstrate why people can’t leave, so I’d say CDPR just did kind of a bad job in conveying this.

2077 does manage to be a decent immersive sim released in the year 2020, and that’s something of a feat. While some missions are incredible railroads that essentially force you down a set of tight hallways, there are significantly more of them that allow for quite a bit of player expression. Far from your usual dichotomy of “guns blazing” or “rear-naked choke fanatic” — though that certainly still exists here — 2077 likes to play around with the idea of your skills allowing you to break a mission in half. These are usually relegated to your mobility options, as most characters can walk out of the first couple hours of the game with a double jump and an airdash that’ll allow them to soar like a majestic, sequence-breaking eagle. It’s like a more limited Cruelty Squad, as the closest comparison; there’s no gunk booster jetpacks or intestine grappling hooks, but you can instead kill people with your brain or get Gorilla Arms to punch them in half as a trade-off. These are what you should be prioritizing when it comes to killing people, because firing guns feels pretty bad. The best thing you can do with regards to firearms is get the biggest shotgun you can find and stuff it in someone’s chest, or get smart guns that don’t require you to aim. Peering down your sights and taking potshots at approaching enemies from anything more than ten meters may as well just subtract the ammo from your gun without all of the sound effects and visual flair that would suggest it would ever do anything. Of course, this is all moot when you consider that the most optimal and most fun way to play this is to activate your berserk implant and just smash everyone’s face in with a baseball bat like you’re the Babe Ruth of the dark future.

It’s still kind of a buggy piece of shit. I do like 2077, but this is not the absolute slam-dunk comeback that it’s been hailed as. Granted, it’s certainly a lot better now than it was — back when it was so bad that Sony pulled it from digital storefronts and issued no-questions-asked refunds — but you don’t get points for getting your game to day-one launch stability three years after you released it. The opening nomad lifepath at one point flung me a kilometer in the opposite direction from my car for seemingly no reason, and I had to walk all the way back to it. This is in the introduction mission, before you’ve done anything. This is not the point where things should be breaking yet.

More and more of these bugs will continue to rear their ugly heads the further into the game you get and the more things 2077 needs to keep track of, and it’s clear that it’s a juggler with too many balls. Cops stopped spawning entirely at one point, allowing me to massacre civilians with no penalty; calls for new missions stopped coming in, so I couldn’t progress the side stories; the game engine would forget a fundamental law of reality and drop me through the map, or launch me hundreds of feet into the air, or make it so my guns just wouldn’t fire when I pulled the trigger. These come infrequently, but popped up enough throughout my 25-hour playthrough to bother me. I’m playing this on a brand-new computer off of an M.2 drive and V’s dick is still out whenever he gets on a motorcycle for a few seconds before his clothes load in. Something’s fucked up behind the curtain.

2077 is good, but given how much of a moment it was intended to be, it falls more than a little flat. CDPR still made a fucking gajillion dollars before it even released, so it isn’t as if they’re going to learn anything from this. As The Witcher 3, as Cyberpunk 2077, so The Witcher 4. Expect their next title to also be a barely-working mess that takes years to patch to an acceptable state. This is good, but it’s only good. It's a lot of missed opportunities rolled into a single work.

In Night City, you can be cum.

Even being Capcom's best-selling game ever, even with the widespread critical acclaim and obscene popularity, I still truly believe that Monster Hunter: World & Iceborne comprise an incredibly underrated and underappreciated game. Skill Up, a YouTube critic whose opinion I respect a lot called it "one of the best games ever made" and it's incredibly refreshing to see that because I don't think enough people are willing to make such a statement about Monster Hunter: World, I am another of those who is.

I think when you have a franchise that has a new game coming out every 3 or 4 years it's hard to really bask in the quality of any individual release. You often talk about the games in relation to eachother and think about how good they are compared to others in the series and don't hold them up against other games as a whole. A similar thing I think happens to Pokemon, for example. Generations 2-5 of Pokemon consist of some of the most popular and enjoyable JRPGs ever released, yet no one's ever willing to talk about how Pokemon Emerald or Pokemon Black/White 2 are some of the best games of all time because they're too swept up in the discourse of whatever else new is happening in the series, and comparing them to that.

But no, man. Even with Rise having released since, the more I think about it since the dust has settled the more I truly believe that Monster Hunter World & Iceborne deserve to be held up in even higher regard than they are. We need to really step back and look at not just how good this game is in the context of the series, but when held up against other games of its time. This game came out in 2018, over 4 years ago as I'm writing this review. Isn't that insane? It feels like you could release it today in 2022 and it would still be absolutely astounding in terms of presentation, in terms of quality-of-life changes and in terms of sheer memorability.

Context is important, so for a second I am gonna quickly compare this to another game in the series, ironically. Look at Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate from 2014, and look at just how dramatically this game improves upon that (already fantastic game) in less than 4 years. Gorgeous and sprawling interconnected maps with no loading screens, scoutflies eliminating the need to throw paintballs at monsters to track them, moving whilst using items, being able to physically see a monster you've just captured back at base camp after you've done so. There are countless quality-of-life changes and gorgeous little touches of artistry that make this game so fundamentally immersive and enchanting to play. World's maps truly are alive and so dense, you could get lost in them for hours just exploring and taking in all the endemic life and visual setpieces in all their little nooks and crannies.

And no, those maps may not always be perfectly suited for combat as a result (here's looking at you, Ancient Forest) and the game may be too RNG-heavy in its endgame, but these trade-offs are absolutely palatable in my opinion when you consider just how many things this game does right. Combat is still fundamentally so much fun, armour design is consistently incredible even if weapon design is lacking (which is markedly improved in Iceborne anyway) and the game perfectly paces its feedback loop by giving the player the most resplendent and relaxing (and customisable!) player home yet.

This game has given me so many memorable moments. Even with 4 years and a whole new game after it, I still think about my first time encountering Namielle and that unbelievable final boss fight of Iceborne all the time. A modern fucking classic, old school elitists be damned.