When Pizza Tower is at it's best, or rather, when my enjoyment of it was at its peak, it soars above contemporary and past platformers with a charm and energy that rivals anything the big developers have ever made. The visuals are gorgeous, every sprite, animation and character design is without flaw. They start out with an impossibly high standard and somehow only get more and more creative as the game progresses. The music isn't far behind, it's full of life and chaos, capable of both blending into the background and vibrating in your face when it's time to run. And the movement, oh baby, it's so buttery smooth and cohesive. During the last few levels I had more fun than I've ever had in a platformer.

However. Pizza Tower is not a game that gives up its smoothness without a fight. It requires a level of speed and reflex only possible with training, and it takes a while, maybe 5-6 levels, before I reached a point where I didn't have to wrestle every bit of fun out of the levels. The visuals, for all their zany glory, make everything a little hard to keep track of at first, and the often unassuming enemies dotted around can mess one up a LOT. This is part of the learning process though, and with every level the game feels a little kinder, your eyes and fingers catch up to Peppino's speed, slowly but surely. Towartds the end of floor 2 the game clicked for real, and from there it's pure joy.

I cannot stress enough how creative and joyful this game is. Just thinking about the ways the enemies move, or Peppino's facial expressions, or how that one level is just called 'Oh Shit', makes my heart race again and yearn for more. For the tragic thing about this game is that it's short. Very short. And given how steep the curve for enjoying the game is, it's hard not to end a playthrough without feeling like there should be more, like you're just cut off in the middle of the best part. Sure, there might be plenty of replay value in grinding each level for the highest rank, but for someone like me who doesn't find enjoyment in that, there's little more to do. I wish there was more, I would gladly have played this for twice, thrice as long. I wish I could love it fully, but there's just not enough of it to fully fill my heart.

As someone who found Reverie Under the Moonlight an awkward gaming experience from start to finish, I was halfway only playing this because I'm so deep in the series already, and I haven't played that many new games recently. My concerns were largely gameplay-oriented, as RutM struggled a lot with making its combat and traversal smooth and enjoyable, but I was pleasantly surprised by how good this game feels to play. Sure, it's simple and way too easy, but compared to the slog of yesteryear it's a breeze. The sigils make a decent foundation for experimentation, and the progression is more exciting than before. Musically the game is fine, and the visuals are also top notch, even if the insistence on giving every female character with sufficient poly count huge breasts is a little ridiculous. In general, I love how distinct the series' identity has become over the years, both in the visual and storytelling departments. I really wish the ending felt more impactful however, given how much it means worldbuilding-wise, but that aside, I was consistently entertained. The game as a whole is not gonna linger in my mind for very long, but it was fun while it lasted.

Psychonauts 2 is, as a whole, a better game than the first one. 16 years passed between the releases, and this game makes it obvious its developers paid attention to the developments in the platforming genre that occured in this timespan, while still sticking close to the visual and tonal identity of the first game. It is a much more refined experience than its predecessor, which, although it does create minor problems, is largely good.

There are multiple big leaps being taken in this game, but largest and most obvious are the visuals. While the original got by on a unique visual style in the face of limited technology, this game operates on the same level of creativity, but with modern graphics. And my oh my, is it gorgeous. Easily one of the best looking games I've played, every stage, character and little gadget look perfect. The music continues in the same vein, expanding on the identity of the original themes with some solid new tracks.

Almost as important as the technical improvements, if slightly less clear at first sight, is the thematic depth this game offers. Whereas the first game was firmly rooted in a somewhat exaggerated view of mental illnesses and how they affect people, this game presents characters with much more nuanced conflicts and troubles, and the way they interact with each other is much more compelling, if not quite as funny and endearing. What sticks out in particular is how unflinchingly nice the game is. It is uncompromising in viewing each and every person, regardless of their actions, as a human being deserving of dignity and closure. Sure, the real world is a morally grey place, but the commitment to positivity and hope leaves an extremely strong impression.

Psychonauts 2 is a game that makes vast and impressive improvements upon the first game in a few key areas, but the impact this has is unfortunately diminished a little by quite a few small annoyances, plus a few larger ones. The throughline here is memorability, or the loss thereof. While many of the levels in P1 where erratic in progression and appearance, their quirks were what made the best of them shine so much. The new game cares not as much for gimmick stages, which, for once in gaming, ends up hurting it. The edges feel sanded off, and while there are fun stages here too, none reach the same height as the best in the first game. It also doesn't help that Raz feels momentumless at times, largely caused by the more reined in Bubble powerup, and the controls in general still lag behind better platformers of the modern area.

It is somewhat rergettable that P2 ends up being only a little better than the first, because in the areas it improves upon the first game, it REALLY improves. It has a compelling and touching story with great characters and solid pacing, and though its more streamlined design results in less interesting moment-to-moment gameplay, the experience is a smooth and pleasant one, and the game surfs along pretty well overall.

The Metal Gear series is extremely strong proof that 'very unhinged' and 'deeply profound' aren't mutually exclusive descriptors. Hideo Kojima is a fascinating and bizarre man who makes fascinating and bizarre games, but most importantly he's a man that understands the appeal of names like Revolver Ocelot and Psycho Mantis, of collecting cool gear and escaping perilous situations through convoluted means. Metal Gear Solid is built on a simple premise, but it never ceases to either excite or humor the player with its antics. At the same time, the core message is strong as hell, and the themes around it are well developed.

MGS's story is one which accomplishes alot with very few words. As such, its biggest weaknesses are the times Kojima and the other writers get lost in the sauce and overcomplicate things. There are numerous cutscenes that are VERY long and dry, and occasionally the game introduces plot points that convolutes things a little too much. The game's age is also felt at times, with weird dialogue and somewhat generic stereotypes, as well as the expected jankiness in the stealth and combat department. As a whole though, it's a wonderful mix of ageless commentary on the nature of war and military industrial complexes, and oddball characters that only occasionally act like human beings. It's fun, it's tense, and a great expansion on the already solid formula established in Metal Gear 2.

Despite not really being a huge fan of the first Blasphemous, I was excited to play this game. A chance to explore more of this twisted world, with its interesting themes and cool visual and audio design, was alluring to me. And overall I think this game does a better job at retaining interest than the first game, though it has problems of its own.

Blasphemous 2 is in many ways a game with qualities and flaws directly opposed to the first game. That one is (to me) characterized by extremely strong worldbuilding, held back by tedious platforming and combat, as well as very shallow progression. In the sequel, the gameplay problems are largely fixed. The increased arsenal works wonderfully, each weapon feels good to use, and their dual purpose as both weapons and traversal tools makes exploration much more dynamic. Similarly, the different upgrades to your mobility results in a much nicer power scaling as you progress, and zipping around enemies feels great towards the end. And it is SO nice to not have to deal with instakill spikes and pits all the time anymore.

Bizarrely, the areas where this game disappoints the most are the ones the first one nailed, namely worldbuilding and general tone, with some of it being a direct consequence of seemingly unrelated design choices. The more dynamic progression system and more player friendly level design might make the game more fun to play, but they also result in the world feeling less grounded and hostile, something the first one did extremely well. The more forgiving combat and platforming also contribute to this, and the lack of a concrete world map stings as well. Similarly, I didn't find the plot this time around to be as interesting to follow, and I felt less engaged in the machinations of the Miracle and the people of Cvstodia.

The loss of thematic quality might sting a little, but Blasphemous 2 is still a better game than the first. It sucks less in the moment-to-moment gameplay, it is more varied and feels much more refined. And it still looks and sounds gorgeous, they didn't lose their potency there. Solid game, I wish I enjoyed examining it more.

It feels weird to say that the standards for a game series as univerally acclaimed as Super Mario has decreased in modern times, but after playing Wonder I'll stand by it . For almost two decades now 2D Mario has been stuck in a cycle of dwindling amounts of creativity, with each new game losing more and more of the novelty the first one had. Not that it had much in the first place. With Wonder, Nintendo proves that this subseries doesn't really require a new look or a new thematic approach. The only thing that matters is giving the player something to latch on to, and I think they really pulled that off here.

Mario Wonder isn't exploring some brand new frontier of videogames, it's not reinventing its genre, it simply just repackages its assets to make them more fun to play. The thorough systematization of level design makes each level easier to mentally prepare for, and while the standard levels are the core of the game, the little side challenges sprinkled alongside them are nice side dishes that keep the experience from getting repetetive. The core levels themselves avoid this issue with the Wonder Flower™, probably the best new concept the game introduces. Giving each level its own alternative gameplay sections is genius, and some levels really stretch the idea far. Towards the end some repeating patterns start to emerge, but it still remains fun and exciting each time.

The gameplay is probably carrying the biggest load, but it's not doing everything by itself. The visuals are crisp and tasty, and the little animations fleshing out both Mario and enemies really touched my heart with their snappiness and cuteness. The music is still fairly generic, leaning on the same core themes we've had for 35 years, but that's to be expected, as is the inoffensiveness of the voice acting. It's hard to nail down any spesific flaw in Mario Wonder, it's simply a pretty enjoyable game from start to finish, nothing deeper.

Raft is a game that banks alot on its central premise being captivating. Fortunately, it kinda is, making a strange fortress on the sea is an exciting prospect. However, all the cool base-building is regrettably held back by those pesky survival elements. Having to constantly micromanage the different stations and mechanisms is tedious and just prolongs the time spent before you get to the fun part. The game does get more and more free as you move along, and there is enjoyment to be found in reaching various milestones, but the moment-to-moment gameplay is somewhat repetetive and uninteresting.

This is one of those occasions where I write a review comprised of nothing but complaints, for a game I enjoyed a fair bit. I suppose it's because the fundamentals are so solid it feels more important to lay out why I didn't think of this game as a 10/10. Bear with me I guess.

I've seen many people say that Tears of the Kingdom's existence makes Breath of the Wild a defunct game, and the sentiment is understandable, even though I disagree with it. The scope of this game's world is certainly impressive. While the sky islands were known in advance and appear in a nice and tidy fashion, the Depths really took me by surprise, especially its size. The first time you descend is a surreal experience, only slightly diminished by Elden Ring having a similar moment. The game also makes sure to properly populate its world in a much more thorough fashion than its predecessor, with tons of new and interesting enemies, as well as new world bosses to fight and conquer. It's typical sequel stuff, but it's welcome regardless.

Unfortunately, whereas TotK's scale is impressive and engaging, where it loses me a little bit is how it breaks the visual and thematic cohesion that made BotW such a special game. Every trace of BotW's weird technology is scrubbed from the map, there is not a single trace of the Sheikah, even in places that really feel like they should. The replacements the game gives in exchange all suck; shrines with dull colors and uninteresting geometry, towers with all sense of wonder removed, no proper guardian equivalent (the closest being the gloom hands, which don't even have ranged attacks). There's also a constant sense of comedic relief permeating the entire game which feels at odds with the serenity of this incarnation of Hyrule.

It does feel a little redundant to whine about visual downgrades, because TotK has way bigger problems than that, beginning with its structure. From the very beginning it's clear that BotW worked so well because all its components worked in harmony. From abilities to plot structure to exploration incentives, it's hard to change anything without inadvertedly making the whole package worse. And TotK changes a lot of those things. Everything you do before landing in Hyrule proper is derivative, uninteresting and drawn out. The game places down a lot of guardrails early on, and feverishly refuses to let you roam free. The fact that it's even possible to miss the Paraglider is somewhat of an insult.

These limitations and restrictions also extend beyond the mechanical, into the story itself. As one of the most common complaints leveraged against BotW, I was really looking forward to what this game would do to distance itself. What I didn't expect was for the sequel to follow the structure this closely. Like in BotW, the main story is told through memories, but in TotK, all connection between player and characters is severed. The ancient champions don't even have faces or names, they just appear to say robotic lines about destiny and gratitude. It's not even your memories, you just watch as Zelda experiences the story for you. There is very little character development to be found anywhere, and this time the memories are pathetically easy to find. You can just sweep them all up in one run, there's no excitement in that.

When I played Elden Ring, one of the things that annoyed me the most was how the game never let awesome moments stand alone, always degrading them through repetition. And seeing how skillfully BotW avoided that problem, it is unfathomably frustrating that TotK falls into the same trap. Seeing a Bubbul Frog for the first time is really cool, but seeing a checkmark appear next to the cave on the map and understanding the implication kills the joy. The Lord of the Mountain is now a public service you can call on, not a strange one-of-a-kind phenomenon. The coliseums are neat, but they, too, are too numerous and streamlined.

The hottest topic in TotK discourse is of course its new mechanical tools, the powers you're given and how they shape the game. Of the main five, I think Recall is the most fun and streamlined. It's a natural evolution of Stasis, it's easy to use, and it provides many good options, both in and out of combat. Ascend is also fun, perhaps a little overtuned, but it makes it easier to explore caves and find shortcuts. So far so good, but it's with Ultrahand and Fuse that the problems start. BotW worked so well because the world came first, and the powers second. It's hard to feel immersed when it's blatantly clear the world is tailor made for you and your abilities, and that's where TotK fails. Ultrahand is just too broken, its depth and potential makes it too hard to treat as a fun side ability. And Fuse forces redesigns upon every enemy, to make sure every horn and tooth fits on your sword like a sock. It lessens the joy of interacting with the world by commodifying everything into toy components for you to use.

Again, it feels really bizarre to be so negative on a game that I played with relative joy for 100 hours, but all the game's positives are derivatives from BotW, one of my favorite games. The combat is still solid, the visuals are still cool, but the x-factor just isn't there, or rather, didn't click with me spesifically. If I was the type to mess around with Ultrahand and create insane contraptions, I would've loved this game, but I am not, and I did not. It's solid, but it puts its eggs in the wrong basket.

Playing New Vegas after suffering through Bethesda's underwhelming first entry into the series was like walking out into the sun after 2 straight weeks of rain. From the very first cutscene it's clear that Obsidian's writing quality is leagues and leagues ahead of Bethesda's, it fills the head with questions and the heart with determination. Compared to the lifeless slog that was Fallout 3's opening, the first couple of hours of NV are an explosion of drama and plot hooks. Using many of the same tricks Fallouts 1 and 2 did, the game skillfully makes you care with very little dialogue required, simply by making sure you're placed in the middle of an active conflict.

There is so much to love about New Vegas, because it feels so closely connected to the old titles thematically, without being overly derivative. Sure, existing factions play a major role, and there are recurring characters, but everything is given a concrete purpose and a unique spin. Then there's the new factions, the Legion and the like, which play excellent ideological foils to the groups the player already knows. The main quests are layered and sprawling, and managing the different lines of inquiry without pissing off anybody is immensely satisfying. The side quests aren't far behind, providing plenty of compelling character moments and delightful reveals and twists. I was also pleased with how the game manages to instill a sense of importance into places unaffected by the main quests, Vault 22 being the prime example. The companion quests are awesome as well, though it did annoy me a lot that you can only have one at a time.

The solid writing aside, the most impressive aspect of this game is how it manages to restructure the dead-on-arrival gameplay of F3 and tweak it into something fun and engaging. The balancing is much better, and the focus is shifted away from gorey kills and towards tactical decision-making. There are way more unique and cool weapons, and modifications and variant ammo make a triumphant return. Skill checks in social encounters are also way, WAY better in NV, though I did find the implementation of the Speech checks annoyingly static. Still, talking to people actually felt good in this game, for the most part.

New vegas is a remarkable experience with a ton of passion put into it, and writing-wise I have no complaints. However, I cannot remember the last time I played a game this blatantly broken. There are so many bugs, so many glitches, the game crashes so much, it became a serious impediment of my enjoyment towards the end. The bugs you'll encounter also vary wildly in severity, from enemy behaviors being somewhat odd, to hostility levels for entire factions changing, the latter of which can kill your entire playthrough if you're not paying attention. The constant crashes also suck. In short, New Vegas is a game beyond repair, but it's also one of the finest examples of video game script writing I've ever encountered. A lesser game would crumble under the weight of so much technical sabotage, but the core experience is so strong it keeps the game alive.

Cute little game with multiplayer mechanics that actually requires clean and concise communication and familiarizing yourselves with the controls and physics. It's definietly leaning into the rage inducing climbing featured in Getting over It and Jump King, but the flag as a customizable checkpoint is a great accessibility option that lets players play with the exact level of intensity they want. That being said, there are very, very few gimmicks to play with, only about 1-2 for each level, which seems a little inadequate. The game is also plagued by technical issues, with connectivity problems and visual bugs. The lack of creativity is a small problem, but the latter is a big deal in a game about timing. It resulted in me and my friend ending our session early, it's very frustrating and disappointing. Maybe a future patch can fix it, but until it is done, the game is unreliable and hard to recommend to people experiencing even just a hint of network troubles.

It's remarkable how incapable of designing engaging gaming experiences Bethesda are. This is a step down from Morrowind, which balanced its weak and frustratingly slow gameplay with interesting story elements and some fun themes. Oblivion has none of it. The opening is fun, but once you step into the world, the game reveals itself to be nothing but shortcuts and repeating visuals and plot points. Removing the dense fog from Morrowind may have been good idea in isolation, but the short draw distance removes any visual advantage it could've granted you. And once you actually get to traversing the land, more problems arise.Having all cities unlocked from the start immediately kills any sense of exploration, and the cities themselves are frustratingly similar. The Cathedral structure is cool when you see it for the first time, but after the 182nd it loses some of its splendor. Gameplay-wise, the game does get points for its fun magic system, but for someone who prefers swords, it doesn't have much to offer. It might sound like I hate the game, but all these problems accomplish is make the experience less interesting, leaving the game as a middling blob of vaguely competent design and limited creativity.

Eldritch horror, especially with oceanic flavor, is built on fear of unknown things beyond your sights. The creepiness of the genre pairs well with the instinctual fear me and other people have of the deep dark oceans and their secrets. A game centered around testing your will against this fear with a backdrop of scattered islands and communities seemed right up my alley, and I'm always for testing out new indie titles if they catch my interest a little. And from the beginning, Dredge really does do its absolute best to hook you and make you invested in this little world left alone to its own devices, though it is a shame it puts all its eggs in that one basket; the first impression.

The first missions and exploratory journeys in this game are exilarating. The fragility and slowness of your vessel really emphasises how alone and vulnerable you are out there, and the characters you meet fill you with either eerie curiosity or anxious pity. You deliver mysterious packages and see things that shouldn't exist, floating past you as you run for shelter or new fishing spots. The visuals, neat and crisp, make every new sight distinct and memorable. As you reach further areas, you're continually struck with a little awe and wonder at new possibilities and threats you'll encounter.

However. At some point not too far after you're able to leave the Marrows consistently, the game loses its initiative. The gameplay never evolves, the fishing remains an act of pressing a button correctly, the dredging is only marginally more complex. This wouldn't be an issue if the game kept hooking you with new atmospheric touches and fascinating story elements, but these things, too, slowly fade away as you move further along. The main story has little in common with the rest of the game, thematically, and the realization that the game is out of tricks halfway through stings.

The biggest problem with Dredge is how quantifiable and tidy it is. The encyclopedia is well structured, with every fish given its own spot. Even the weird abominations fit neatly into their slots. This is obviously a problem, as it makes it hard to ignore the fact that you're exploring a world designed for you to explore. There is never a feeling of being an outsider on the path of discovery, it feels too much like following a curated path, regardless of the freedom you're given. In a different vein, but with the same root problem, is the fact that all the threats you face are so tangible. The closest thing the game gets to the opposite are the weird red clouds, which are nothing more than nuisances. The game is too…gamey, too afraid to go in unorthodox directions to make its horror effective, and it ends up hurting it a lot in the end.

Regardless of whether or not it's an effective thriller though, it's hard to deny the simple pleasure Dredge provides. It's well polished and it looks excellent, with each and every creature being wonderfully designed. Its thematic and atmospheric problems are hard to overlook, but they don't kill the experience, just dampen it.

Innovation in gaming rules. It's always such a joy to experience games that carry their own weight with just their creative muscles, delighting you by going in new and exciting directions. A minimum amount of polish is obviously required, but games like Super Metroid have reigned supreme for so long due to their willingness to explore the reaches of what their genres and systems are capable of. And that's where the crucial difference lies between the aforementioned, and a game like Hollow Knight, which never innovates, only refines.

Hollow Knight is a curious case of an indie game made by a small studio whose strength lies entirely in its technical execution. For being made by 4 people, it is enormously impressive how good it looks, sounds and, for the most part, feels. The character designs and the created architecture are beautiful and flowing and perfectly meshes the bug theme with the ruined kingdom vibe. The visual shortcuts are obvious, but the art is stylish enough to mitigate practically every problem this could've caused, and the clear and consise animations help bring a sense of weight to the otherwise floaty gameplay feel.

Playing Hollow Knight is a blockbuster experience, for better and worse. It leads you gracefully through story- and gameplay beats that make your brain tingle with recognition. And nothing else. As I got further and further into the game, I occasionally stopped to evaluate the experience thus far, what set it apart and so on. And I was, and still is, at a loss for what to identify with this game. Everything it does is taken pretty directly from older titles, and though the amount of different influences help mask this, it just becomes more and more blatant as the game goes on.

HK's biggest sources of inspiration are obviously Metroid and Dark Souls, on paper solid games to learn from. The tragic thing is how the game manages to feel like worse versions of each game stuck together. Though the map is sprawling and full of possibilities, the traversal is far, far too obnoxious to justify the restrictive fast-travel. And the lack of sequence-breaking tools make the progression feel stagnant, with upgrades being way too scarce. Meanwhile, the Dark Souls style lore seem to only regurgitate that game's strongest elements, though there are a few nice lore drops here and there that left an impact. A couple of fun characters aside, all the emotions the game thrusts at you are more skillfully delivered in Dark Souls and its ilk. Meanwhile, the boss fights (The only standout part of the gameplay) weren't enough to make me forget how much cooler older metroidvanias felt to discover, the magic is lost.

I am somewhat sad writing this considering how long Hollow Knight has been allowed to sit in my backlog and accumulate expectations. Maybe I was just not considering the reasons for its popularity enough, and expecting a new milestone in the genre that would captivate me like Super Metroid or Symphony of the Night, rather than a more refined version of lessons learned over the course of decades of games. Either way, this game didn't create an identity strong enough to impress me, and it never reached the same heights as the games I've mentioned. Still, I will play Silksong, if only for checking if the team have adopted new philosophies since 2017.


Also I couldn't find space for it in the actual review, but the White Palace fucking sucks man. Whose idea was this hyper precise Super Meat Boy nightmare in my soulslike metroidvania, I've never felt so disgusted with a design choice in the final reaches of a game's story.

It's always a bad sign when a game feels like it takes more of its identity from its developer than its series. The first two Fallout games are uncompromising in their complexity. They feature rich, layered characters fighting for causes that are understandable, flawed and, above all, human. Their combat systems and traversal mechanics work because the games are so good at directing your attention towards the stuff that matters. The ending of 1 is one of the pinnacles of video game storytelling, the highwayman in 2 is one of the best quest rewards ever included in a game. Meanwhile, in Todd Howards house, the Elder Scrolls games have always been inching their way towards quality rather reluctantly. They feature a lack of tuning and mechanical weaknesses aplenty, and this game was probably doomed the second it got into Bethesda's grubby hands.

What made the world of Fallout special back in the 90's was its deep understanding of motivations, consequences and the workings of the human mind. Here in 3, your moral compass is dictated by a popup on the HUD that tells you its good to kill guys you've never met before in broad daylight, they were gonna do something bad later anyway. Meanwhile you'll get lynched in seconds for picking up a fork. I really didn't expect the game to take such a distressingly black-or-white stance so early on, but the problems appear during the opening, which is also way too long. This lack of depth continues to plague the entire rest of the game, up to and including the ending, which is its own can of worms. There is a grand total of one (1) character that feels like a living breathing person (Moira, for the record), and the plot regularly refuses to let you forge your own journey the way I was getting used to with the previous installments.

It's not just in the writing department Fallout 3 disappoints though, the game design can't keep up either. The concrete nature of the world and the freedom you have to explore it means you're never really given any sense of purpose or direction. Your goals never feel like more than markers you walk towards in a straight line, and the quests feel gamified in a degrading sort of way. This problem is amplified by the world being totally devoid of life, landmarks and mysticism. There is nothing pulling your attention towards interesting things except the compass bar at the bottom, and that creates extremely stagnant traversal. Even the gameplay minutae suffers. The importance of the different stats are scaled back, resulting in a frustratingly inconsequential character creator. And my god are the repair and speech skills so fucking annoying. The weapons degrading makes all weapons appear useless on first inspection, and the simplistic dialogue structure is perhaps the biggest insult to Fallout in this entire game.

Overall, Fallout 3's biggest sin is how much it strays from what makes Fallout Fallout, without substituting anything of its own. It falls behind in characterwork, in plot progression and pacing, and, most egregious of all, even the gameplay. The latter of which is most baffling considering the time gap between 2 and 3, but it's ultimately the thematic depth which dooms this game, or the lack there of. Its focus is more on the bloody kills and trashy shooter action, and it doesn't even nail those parts. And the ending fucking sucks man, how did anyone ever approve of this, what the fuck.