2010
Alan Wake is a very special game for me. Along with the lesser-known Guns, Gore & Cannoli, it's what got me back into video games in 2020 after five 'wilderness years' where I thought I was done with this hobby. It brought me so much joy in a way that simply doesn't come when you're a habitual player. Far be it from me to claim it works for everyone, but I genuinely believe video games cured my depression, and Alan Wake was the game that started this return.
I could not have chosen a better game to get back into the hobby, because even non-gamers would find a lot to appreciate here. Alan Wake has an intriguing story, beautiful graphics and a kick-ass soundtrack. Also, its gameplay isn't very good. So it fulfills all the requirements for a classic survival horror title.
The first two words spoken in this game are 'Stephen King.' Alan Wake is a love letter to the campy, commercial horror that makes up so much of his work. There are shot-for-shot homages to his film adaptations, and the protagonist directly lampshades his knack for turning innocuous objects into horror stories. And just as with some of Stephen King's favourite heroes, the main character is an author. A tweed-suited author, unshaven and unassuming, who can't run three steps without running out of breath. He seems to be have written a story that is coming true, word for word. This gives us such brilliantly meta passages as, "He took out his hip flask when he reached the page that described how he reached the page that made him take out his hip flask." Sam Lake is a great writer himself.
It was an incredible feeling to explore this game's world, and remember how entertaining video games are - I'd forgotten. The chief gameplay gimmick is illumination - in the light you're safe, in the dark they get you. This makes every unlit spot in the game feel like a threat, and street lamps are safe havens. It's tense, and was even more so when I replayed this game because I accidentally selected Hard difficulty without realizing it. The gameplay isn't going to win any awards, however. Alan sucks at cardio, and for a game that heavily advertises Energizer batteries, all it taught me was that they can't even power a dinky torch for 5 seconds. It's a repetitive game, and vestiges of its scrapped open-world design still shine through in the nigh-pointless driving segments.
Yet it still brought me so much joy. The development team might not have known how to make movement feel good, or the gunplay satisfying, but they definitely knew how to create a moment. Fighting off dark demons with the power of heavy metal, fireworks exploding everywhere, is a memory I will treasure forever. Even the small things - the in-game TV programmes, the NPCs in the loony bin and the thermoses you pick up because Alan's body is 75% black coffee - they made me so happy. This re-ignited a video game addiction that has still to subside 4 years later. So thank you, Remedy, and thank you Sam Lake. Now do the face.
I could not have chosen a better game to get back into the hobby, because even non-gamers would find a lot to appreciate here. Alan Wake has an intriguing story, beautiful graphics and a kick-ass soundtrack. Also, its gameplay isn't very good. So it fulfills all the requirements for a classic survival horror title.
The first two words spoken in this game are 'Stephen King.' Alan Wake is a love letter to the campy, commercial horror that makes up so much of his work. There are shot-for-shot homages to his film adaptations, and the protagonist directly lampshades his knack for turning innocuous objects into horror stories. And just as with some of Stephen King's favourite heroes, the main character is an author. A tweed-suited author, unshaven and unassuming, who can't run three steps without running out of breath. He seems to be have written a story that is coming true, word for word. This gives us such brilliantly meta passages as, "He took out his hip flask when he reached the page that described how he reached the page that made him take out his hip flask." Sam Lake is a great writer himself.
It was an incredible feeling to explore this game's world, and remember how entertaining video games are - I'd forgotten. The chief gameplay gimmick is illumination - in the light you're safe, in the dark they get you. This makes every unlit spot in the game feel like a threat, and street lamps are safe havens. It's tense, and was even more so when I replayed this game because I accidentally selected Hard difficulty without realizing it. The gameplay isn't going to win any awards, however. Alan sucks at cardio, and for a game that heavily advertises Energizer batteries, all it taught me was that they can't even power a dinky torch for 5 seconds. It's a repetitive game, and vestiges of its scrapped open-world design still shine through in the nigh-pointless driving segments.
Yet it still brought me so much joy. The development team might not have known how to make movement feel good, or the gunplay satisfying, but they definitely knew how to create a moment. Fighting off dark demons with the power of heavy metal, fireworks exploding everywhere, is a memory I will treasure forever. Even the small things - the in-game TV programmes, the NPCs in the loony bin and the thermoses you pick up because Alan's body is 75% black coffee - they made me so happy. This re-ignited a video game addiction that has still to subside 4 years later. So thank you, Remedy, and thank you Sam Lake. Now do the face.
This review has been a long time coming. It's been coming since before the site you're reading this on was founded. It's been coming before some of you were even born.
To know about my relationship with Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation, you have to know something about me. I first started this game some 20 years ago, at a time when I couldn't even tie my own shoelaces. In those intervening years, many attempts to beat this game followed. Just off the top of my head, I can remember attempts in 2004, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, 2015 and even in 2017, a time period where I didn't play video games a lot. Yet I always came up short. After reaching the game's halfway point - which was hammered into me by rote - Tomb Raider 4 would always get the best of me. I would give up. I would quit.
In 2020, I decided that I was never going to finish this game, and I skimmed through its ending cutscenes so that I could claim that I had beaten it. But I hadn't beaten it. I was a hack, a fraud, a liar. I was practically a member of Congress.
When I started my marathon of the Tomb Raider series in January of this year, this was the game I was looking forward to most. This was my opportunity to make things right, to make the lie a truth, to beat TR4 for good - for once in my life, to get the best of this game, instead of the other way around. I proudly proclaimed to my friends that I was Captain Ahab and Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation was my white whale. Of course, nobody has actually read Moby Dick, or they'd have pointed out to me that the story ends with the whale dragging Ahab beneath the waves.
Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation was to be Lara Croft's 'final problem.' Like her detective compatriot Sherlock Holmes, the character was so popular that the creator had burned out, and decided to kill them off. This was to be her last adventure, and she was assigned an appropriately epic quest - saving the world from the scourge of Egyptian god and all-around villain Seth, whom she accidentally releases on a routine raid. Her final send-off was intended to be her biggest adventure yet: huge levels, new abilities and ever more impressive graphics were prepared to accompany her into the afterlife.
The first half of Tomb Raider 4 - up to the point I always gave up at - is the best and most definitive classic TR has ever been. With Lara's new abilities and the tightly focused levels, traversing tombs and temples has never been more fun. There's even a prologue episode with a younger Lara, setting up her rivalry with one-time mentor Werner Von Croy. There are breezy exploration segments, smartly designed puzzles, thrilling timed runs and even a few passable combat sections - something the series has always struggled with. Apart from the introduction, the whole game takes in Egypt, and as a young player, I learned a lot about its ancient mythology just from this game. The race between Lara and a Seth-possessed Von Croy over the world's fate promises a thrilling conclusion to our heroine's last huzzah.
Yet it breaks my heart to say this, but the cracks eventually do start to show. The first half's linearity allows its strong points to shine. Once you get to the point where the game has interconnected levels - almost a sort of open world, and start running into rooms that are dead ends, that's where you should swallow your pride and open a walkthrough, because now it's a lot less focused and you'll want to save your time. The second half's location of keys and gates, with nary a context clue as to what you should do next, almost turns it into a point-and-click adventure game. There are a couple of puzzles whose logic has not been figured out even today, 25 years later. There are even more platforming sections that are made just to fuck with the player. Brute force - or a guide - is the only way through. Somewhere during Tomb Raider 3's development, it seems, Core Design lost their mojo for designing skill-based platforming segments that would throw down the gauntlet and challenge players to make use of everything they'd learned - best illustrated in the endgame of Tomb Raider II. Instead, they opted just to create trial-and-error sections with an instant death on every error.
The most glaring flaw, however is that this game clearly ran out of resources in its second half. Despite the apocalyptic events taking place in the story, the environments hardly convey them. A few half-hearted attempts at showing the brewing storm are made, yet the story tells me the clouds have already burst. The final boss is anticlimactic and subdued, and the final cutscene is too rushed to carry any poignancy. It feels more like a cheap cliffhanger than the 21-gun-salute, fireworks-forming-a-union-jack, not-a-dry-eye-in-the-house send-off Lara deserves. Of course we are aware that Eidos bosses found out that Core Design were planning to kill Lara off and screamed at them about it, but all oral histories say it was too late to alter the ending, so why wasn't it made better to begin with?
There isn't even a proper credits screen - after Lara is buried alive, her rival Von Croy (now suddenly back to his usual self) having failed to save her, we are kicked back to the title screen with a staff roll. No stats screen, no 'The End,' and not even a new music track to signal the end of an era - all we get is the same 'danger music' we heard throughout the game's boss encounters (except the final showdown, which lacks gravitas in part because of how awkwardly silent it is). This has to be the worst possible choice for what's supposed to be a downer ending.
This ludonarrative dissonance takes away from the latter half of the game, and I am utterly confident that if The Last Revelation was remade today with its second half done right, it could still be the best Tomb Raider game.
I've read many reviews of TR4 over the years saying that Core Design had gotten lazy with the series, and were pumping games out annually like the new Madden or Call of Duty. I completely disagree. While Tomb Raider 4's latter half does show the hallmarks of money running out during development, of an exhausted development team, and of time constraints, I can't say the developers were lazy with it. The gameplay is the best that classic Tomb Raider has ever been - just compare how many more fan mods were built in the TR4 engine than in any other classic TR. It also looks incredible for its time, and the FMVs are among the best of the era. It's just a pity that in the end, Core Design lacked the resources to make this the farewell it should have been. Not when they had Eidos breathing down their necks.
Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation will always be my favourite classic TR, the one I have the fondest childhood memories of, the one dearest to my heart, but objectively it's not the best one. That title still goes to the original. It was also the last 'good' Tomb Raider game for several years: the next entry, Chronicles, was a collection of B-sides that was hastily cobbled together like the yearly Madden, and Angel of Darkness is remembered as a promising yet half-finished mess. That was the end of Core Design's control over Tomb Raider, and the series was handed over to Crystal Dynamics.
But hey, that gave us the Legend-Anniversary-Underworld trilogy. Sometimes when God closes a door, he does open a window.
God bless Stella and her walkthrough site. Where would we be without that woman?
To know about my relationship with Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation, you have to know something about me. I first started this game some 20 years ago, at a time when I couldn't even tie my own shoelaces. In those intervening years, many attempts to beat this game followed. Just off the top of my head, I can remember attempts in 2004, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, 2015 and even in 2017, a time period where I didn't play video games a lot. Yet I always came up short. After reaching the game's halfway point - which was hammered into me by rote - Tomb Raider 4 would always get the best of me. I would give up. I would quit.
In 2020, I decided that I was never going to finish this game, and I skimmed through its ending cutscenes so that I could claim that I had beaten it. But I hadn't beaten it. I was a hack, a fraud, a liar. I was practically a member of Congress.
When I started my marathon of the Tomb Raider series in January of this year, this was the game I was looking forward to most. This was my opportunity to make things right, to make the lie a truth, to beat TR4 for good - for once in my life, to get the best of this game, instead of the other way around. I proudly proclaimed to my friends that I was Captain Ahab and Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation was my white whale. Of course, nobody has actually read Moby Dick, or they'd have pointed out to me that the story ends with the whale dragging Ahab beneath the waves.
Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation was to be Lara Croft's 'final problem.' Like her detective compatriot Sherlock Holmes, the character was so popular that the creator had burned out, and decided to kill them off. This was to be her last adventure, and she was assigned an appropriately epic quest - saving the world from the scourge of Egyptian god and all-around villain Seth, whom she accidentally releases on a routine raid. Her final send-off was intended to be her biggest adventure yet: huge levels, new abilities and ever more impressive graphics were prepared to accompany her into the afterlife.
The first half of Tomb Raider 4 - up to the point I always gave up at - is the best and most definitive classic TR has ever been. With Lara's new abilities and the tightly focused levels, traversing tombs and temples has never been more fun. There's even a prologue episode with a younger Lara, setting up her rivalry with one-time mentor Werner Von Croy. There are breezy exploration segments, smartly designed puzzles, thrilling timed runs and even a few passable combat sections - something the series has always struggled with. Apart from the introduction, the whole game takes in Egypt, and as a young player, I learned a lot about its ancient mythology just from this game. The race between Lara and a Seth-possessed Von Croy over the world's fate promises a thrilling conclusion to our heroine's last huzzah.
Yet it breaks my heart to say this, but the cracks eventually do start to show. The first half's linearity allows its strong points to shine. Once you get to the point where the game has interconnected levels - almost a sort of open world, and start running into rooms that are dead ends, that's where you should swallow your pride and open a walkthrough, because now it's a lot less focused and you'll want to save your time. The second half's location of keys and gates, with nary a context clue as to what you should do next, almost turns it into a point-and-click adventure game. There are a couple of puzzles whose logic has not been figured out even today, 25 years later. There are even more platforming sections that are made just to fuck with the player. Brute force - or a guide - is the only way through. Somewhere during Tomb Raider 3's development, it seems, Core Design lost their mojo for designing skill-based platforming segments that would throw down the gauntlet and challenge players to make use of everything they'd learned - best illustrated in the endgame of Tomb Raider II. Instead, they opted just to create trial-and-error sections with an instant death on every error.
The most glaring flaw, however is that this game clearly ran out of resources in its second half. Despite the apocalyptic events taking place in the story, the environments hardly convey them. A few half-hearted attempts at showing the brewing storm are made, yet the story tells me the clouds have already burst. The final boss is anticlimactic and subdued, and the final cutscene is too rushed to carry any poignancy. It feels more like a cheap cliffhanger than the 21-gun-salute, fireworks-forming-a-union-jack, not-a-dry-eye-in-the-house send-off Lara deserves. Of course we are aware that Eidos bosses found out that Core Design were planning to kill Lara off and screamed at them about it, but all oral histories say it was too late to alter the ending, so why wasn't it made better to begin with?
There isn't even a proper credits screen - after Lara is buried alive, her rival Von Croy (now suddenly back to his usual self) having failed to save her, we are kicked back to the title screen with a staff roll. No stats screen, no 'The End,' and not even a new music track to signal the end of an era - all we get is the same 'danger music' we heard throughout the game's boss encounters (except the final showdown, which lacks gravitas in part because of how awkwardly silent it is). This has to be the worst possible choice for what's supposed to be a downer ending.
This ludonarrative dissonance takes away from the latter half of the game, and I am utterly confident that if The Last Revelation was remade today with its second half done right, it could still be the best Tomb Raider game.
I've read many reviews of TR4 over the years saying that Core Design had gotten lazy with the series, and were pumping games out annually like the new Madden or Call of Duty. I completely disagree. While Tomb Raider 4's latter half does show the hallmarks of money running out during development, of an exhausted development team, and of time constraints, I can't say the developers were lazy with it. The gameplay is the best that classic Tomb Raider has ever been - just compare how many more fan mods were built in the TR4 engine than in any other classic TR. It also looks incredible for its time, and the FMVs are among the best of the era. It's just a pity that in the end, Core Design lacked the resources to make this the farewell it should have been. Not when they had Eidos breathing down their necks.
Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation will always be my favourite classic TR, the one I have the fondest childhood memories of, the one dearest to my heart, but objectively it's not the best one. That title still goes to the original. It was also the last 'good' Tomb Raider game for several years: the next entry, Chronicles, was a collection of B-sides that was hastily cobbled together like the yearly Madden, and Angel of Darkness is remembered as a promising yet half-finished mess. That was the end of Core Design's control over Tomb Raider, and the series was handed over to Crystal Dynamics.
But hey, that gave us the Legend-Anniversary-Underworld trilogy. Sometimes when God closes a door, he does open a window.
God bless Stella and her walkthrough site. Where would we be without that woman?
There is little I can write about Skies of Arcadia that doesn't make it sound like a generic JRPG. Yet its excellence of execution makes it a quintessential RPG, and one of the best games of all time.
It took me around 35 hours to finish this game. Not for a single minute of that time was I bored, or in need of a break, or lacking enjoyment. Skies of Arcadia Legends has enough content in it for five games; I'm amazed they managed to fit it all on a single GameCube disc.
This game captures the joy of exploration in a way that many games attempt, but few succeed. The simple act of sailing through the skies, or climbing a ladder - seeing the beautiful JPEG skybox stretched out before you - or visiting a new town and seeing the designs and mannerisms of the characters there... it instilled me with such happiness. Skies of Arcadia owes a lot to its lovingly crafted world.
The characters and their motivations are hardly original, but they are so absorbing that it doesn't matter. The game also captures all that was good about anime in the 90s - there is humour, there is friendship, there is personal growth, there is love. The story takes inspiration from classic literature to imbue its characters with pathos and its environments with intrigue. We have a Captain Ahab parallel in Drachma, whose tale ends on possibly a more profound note than Moby Dick itself did; we have the mystique of the 'dark continent' portrayed in Ixa'taka; even Robinson Crusoe shows up at one point.
It's not exactly flawless: the random encounter rate is very high, and the battle animations drag on a bit. The ship battle animations are outright overlong. Some boss fights will take 40 minutes to an hour. But I didn't mind very much. Some games just have 'it' - maybe it's because the battle theme doesn't suck, but even when Skies of Arcadia shows its age and flaunts its dated aspects, it's fun to play.
Yet if I told you this was a turn-based JRPG where you explore the world to find six crystals to stop an evil empire, you'd think it's all been done before. Trust me, it's never been done this well. Skies of Arcadia feels fresh at every turn, and is a fulfilling adventure that should've already been remastered by now. All this game needs is a fast-forward button for the battle animations and widescreen support, and it'll be perfect for a new generation to discover its appeal. Go pester Sega about it.
It took me around 35 hours to finish this game. Not for a single minute of that time was I bored, or in need of a break, or lacking enjoyment. Skies of Arcadia Legends has enough content in it for five games; I'm amazed they managed to fit it all on a single GameCube disc.
This game captures the joy of exploration in a way that many games attempt, but few succeed. The simple act of sailing through the skies, or climbing a ladder - seeing the beautiful JPEG skybox stretched out before you - or visiting a new town and seeing the designs and mannerisms of the characters there... it instilled me with such happiness. Skies of Arcadia owes a lot to its lovingly crafted world.
The characters and their motivations are hardly original, but they are so absorbing that it doesn't matter. The game also captures all that was good about anime in the 90s - there is humour, there is friendship, there is personal growth, there is love. The story takes inspiration from classic literature to imbue its characters with pathos and its environments with intrigue. We have a Captain Ahab parallel in Drachma, whose tale ends on possibly a more profound note than Moby Dick itself did; we have the mystique of the 'dark continent' portrayed in Ixa'taka; even Robinson Crusoe shows up at one point.
It's not exactly flawless: the random encounter rate is very high, and the battle animations drag on a bit. The ship battle animations are outright overlong. Some boss fights will take 40 minutes to an hour. But I didn't mind very much. Some games just have 'it' - maybe it's because the battle theme doesn't suck, but even when Skies of Arcadia shows its age and flaunts its dated aspects, it's fun to play.
Yet if I told you this was a turn-based JRPG where you explore the world to find six crystals to stop an evil empire, you'd think it's all been done before. Trust me, it's never been done this well. Skies of Arcadia feels fresh at every turn, and is a fulfilling adventure that should've already been remastered by now. All this game needs is a fast-forward button for the battle animations and widescreen support, and it'll be perfect for a new generation to discover its appeal. Go pester Sega about it.
2011
It's hard for me to decide which I hate more as a sequel to an FF game I loved, this or X-2. Both of them manage to do what feels like irreparable damage to the epic tales that their predecessors were.
The entire story is founded on a stupid fucking retcon that cheapens the ending of XIII, and it only gets worse from there. I've watched music videos that have a more coherent plot than whatever this pile of shit is. It hamfists in elements of time travel and parallel worlds that are not a part of the original game's mythos at all, brings in an unwanted and unnecessary character for no apparent reason except as the writer's OC in this fanfiction that somehow gaslit its way to official status. Don't be fucking fooled. It's all a sham: the story is nonsensical, meandering and entirely at odds with all that is good in the world. I absolutely despise stories like these that constantly use big words like 'chronicle paradox' and 'forbidden history' and 'spacetime vortex' in a vain attempt to hide the fact that they absolutely SUCK. They suck in every single one of the multiple universes the writers use as an excuse for their storytelling ineptitude.
I couldn't wait for this game to shut the fuck up, I stopped caring entirely. And true, just like XIII before it, it looks dazzling, the visuals are so good that it feels like playing a CGI film, but it's hard to appreciate when it stands for absolutely nothing, and that little shit-gremlin of a moglin keeps yelling KUPO KUPO KUPOOOO in every scene so we can have some kawaii shit to go with the countless layers of obfuscation that drive this plot into the ground. If I had a gun I'd shoot that fucking hell-cherub so fast.
The gameplay isn't good either. I don't begrudge Final Fantasy XIII for its linearity at all; this game on the other hand is filled with false choices that are just time-wasting mechanics posing as open-endedness. For example, early on you're presented with the 'choice' to either fight a boss head-on or walk three paces along an alternative path to get a device that weakens him. My manly nature dictates that I fight him head-on without resorting to trickery, but he will one-hit kill your party, so you're forced to take the second option anyway. Then why is it a choice at all? That's right: to pretend this game isn't every bit as linear as its predecessor, when it is, when it's a fucking SHAM. To waste your fucking time. The game also really likes to recycle its bosses; to interrupt boss fights with cinematic moments and QTEs and cutscenes; to basically do all that video games of this time were derided for in such an especially egregious fashion that even I found them annoying.
The developers go all in on deceiving players into thinking they have any input into the story, by having four dialogue options pop up with a hilariously fancy 'Live Trigger!' splash in every conversation. Fuck them too. I don't get at all what's the appeal of these 'choices' that don't change one iota of the game, and the way they're presented like such a huge feature is amusing to see in the same way watching a Lilliputian attempt to score a three-point field goal would be amusing. Having only two party members and a rotating cast of captive Pokemon doesn't do it for me either. The battle system feels lesser than its predecessor with inconsequential features like Wounds (lowering your maximum HP) put in only for the sake of having more new features.
The music is nice, but I don't feel it melds into the game well pretty often - it's like they composed a lot of good tracks in a vacuum and then overlaid them into the game without too much consideration for context. In a game where the voice actors can't even get the inflections of their lines right, that would be too much to ask.
This game is a disservice and a blight on its predecessor, which I absolutely loved. It should have been left to rot on whatever page of Fanfiction.net it was uploaded to.
In short, I am mildly upset with this game.
The entire story is founded on a stupid fucking retcon that cheapens the ending of XIII, and it only gets worse from there. I've watched music videos that have a more coherent plot than whatever this pile of shit is. It hamfists in elements of time travel and parallel worlds that are not a part of the original game's mythos at all, brings in an unwanted and unnecessary character for no apparent reason except as the writer's OC in this fanfiction that somehow gaslit its way to official status. Don't be fucking fooled. It's all a sham: the story is nonsensical, meandering and entirely at odds with all that is good in the world. I absolutely despise stories like these that constantly use big words like 'chronicle paradox' and 'forbidden history' and 'spacetime vortex' in a vain attempt to hide the fact that they absolutely SUCK. They suck in every single one of the multiple universes the writers use as an excuse for their storytelling ineptitude.
I couldn't wait for this game to shut the fuck up, I stopped caring entirely. And true, just like XIII before it, it looks dazzling, the visuals are so good that it feels like playing a CGI film, but it's hard to appreciate when it stands for absolutely nothing, and that little shit-gremlin of a moglin keeps yelling KUPO KUPO KUPOOOO in every scene so we can have some kawaii shit to go with the countless layers of obfuscation that drive this plot into the ground. If I had a gun I'd shoot that fucking hell-cherub so fast.
The gameplay isn't good either. I don't begrudge Final Fantasy XIII for its linearity at all; this game on the other hand is filled with false choices that are just time-wasting mechanics posing as open-endedness. For example, early on you're presented with the 'choice' to either fight a boss head-on or walk three paces along an alternative path to get a device that weakens him. My manly nature dictates that I fight him head-on without resorting to trickery, but he will one-hit kill your party, so you're forced to take the second option anyway. Then why is it a choice at all? That's right: to pretend this game isn't every bit as linear as its predecessor, when it is, when it's a fucking SHAM. To waste your fucking time. The game also really likes to recycle its bosses; to interrupt boss fights with cinematic moments and QTEs and cutscenes; to basically do all that video games of this time were derided for in such an especially egregious fashion that even I found them annoying.
The developers go all in on deceiving players into thinking they have any input into the story, by having four dialogue options pop up with a hilariously fancy 'Live Trigger!' splash in every conversation. Fuck them too. I don't get at all what's the appeal of these 'choices' that don't change one iota of the game, and the way they're presented like such a huge feature is amusing to see in the same way watching a Lilliputian attempt to score a three-point field goal would be amusing. Having only two party members and a rotating cast of captive Pokemon doesn't do it for me either. The battle system feels lesser than its predecessor with inconsequential features like Wounds (lowering your maximum HP) put in only for the sake of having more new features.
The music is nice, but I don't feel it melds into the game well pretty often - it's like they composed a lot of good tracks in a vacuum and then overlaid them into the game without too much consideration for context. In a game where the voice actors can't even get the inflections of their lines right, that would be too much to ask.
This game is a disservice and a blight on its predecessor, which I absolutely loved. It should have been left to rot on whatever page of Fanfiction.net it was uploaded to.
In short, I am mildly upset with this game.
2016
Final Fantasy XV is a beautiful game. That's a corny way to start off a review, but saying, "a Final Fantasy for fans and first-timers" is a corny way to start a game, so I must respond in kind. I know it had a long and troubled production, and that it came out unfinished, and it rubbed a lot of fans the wrong way. I remember reading forum discussions in 2013 where players would ask, "Do companies think it's right to make us wait ten years for a game?"
Well, if they put stuff out on par with this game, they absolutely fucking can. I'll get on with my life in the meanwhile. I'm a bit more sympathetic to those who played it on release. But I can't really know or care much about how the game was seven years ago, so much as what it was like when I was playing it seven days ago.
It tells the tale of four friends who set out on a journey to obtain a ring and end up fighting a threat that could plunge the world in darkness forevermore (J. R. R. Tolkien should sue). Prince Noctis and his childhood friends-turned-bodyguards are planning to have the best road trip ever before he gets married and saves the world and all that. These lads are a Japanese schoolgirl's wet dream - carelessly handsome, unabashedly silly, and more concerned with the trendiness of their clothes than the gravitas of their destiny.
This is the highlight of Final Fantasy XV - the main cast is a bunch of sheltered dandies who have to come to terms with the greatness that has been thrust upon them. Their personal growth, their earnest moments of brotherhood, and their banter-laden interactions are the heart of the narrative. The hero isn't a po-faced paladin of justice - he's one of the guys. Watching him mature into a true king is quite the journey.
Final Fantasy XV also has one of the most beautifully rendered open worlds I've seen. It caused me to appreciate nature more, because real life looks a lot like Final Fantasy XV. And trust me, you spend about as much time driving in this game as you would in real life. The car, the Regalia, is the fifth main character. If there's one thing I could wish for, it would be that your control over the car wasn't so limited for most of the game. But even with its mostly autopilot navigation, sitting back and admiring the scenery while listening to music from past FF titles was quite the experience.
This open-world design continues for half the game, of which most of your time will be spent doing sidequests. I'm told I generally rush RPGs, but I definitely didn't rush Final Fantasy XV, because there's so much to do - and so much fun to be had doing it. It's enough to put the main story on the backburner, it is, what with all the games-within-a-game it offers. Fishing? Monster hunting? Pinball on steroids? This game has it. And with the game's reward mechanics, plus the promise of interesting conversations with the supporting cast, nearly every sidequest feels worth doing. Even if it's a blatant advertisement for Cup Noodles. Look, they had to get the budget to make this game look so beautiful somewhere, okay?
In an inversion of Final Fantasy XIII, the first half of XV is open-world and laden with sidequests, while the second half is linear. I know 'linearity' is a dirty word to a lot of gamers, but I can't complain about it in either of these games. Once the plot in Final Fantasy XV starts getting funneled towards its conclusion, it also becomes much more focused and much more heartrending. I was almost in tears in this game's campaign as many times as I've been with all the previous games I've played put together. And I commend the game's writing and directing team for being unafraid to commit to the tragedy, something quite a few Final Fantasy stories pull back from at the last moment. For its story alone, Final Fantasy XV is a triumph.
This game also marks a true departure from the Active Time Battle system of past Final Fantasies, something the series has been trying to break away from for over a decade. Finally, the series commits to real-time hack-and-slash combat. There's a wait mode, but it seems to simply be an accessibility option for handicapped players. The combat is a lot of fun. Once you get the hang of the dodge/parry mechanics, and can switch between defense and aggression on the fly, there's a lot of fun to be had, even if the camera sometimes obstructs your view when fighting large enemies.
While I encountered no major bugs during my playthrough, there is no hiding the fact that this is very much a game that spent ten years in development. Final Fantasy XV is hardly consistent, but then again, the Final Fantasy series as a whole isn't consistent. My favourite analogy to make is that if Dragon Quest is AC/DC, Final Fantasy is Guns N' Roses. It's large, unwieldy and all over the place, but if it's a series of very low lows (fuck FF XIII-2), it also has very high highs. Final Fantasy XV is a very high high. If Metal Gear Solid V hadn't come out, on release XV would have been the greatest unfinished game ever made. But it is finished now, with DLC episodes to fill in the blanks and show how adaptable the game engine is to different gameplay styles, and it goes on sale for a fiver. There is no better time to play this game than now.
Ultimately, Final Fantasy XV is a fantastic experience with a lot to do and even more to appreciate. Its emphasis on brotherhood reminded me of my own college clique. I oughta call those guys sometime.
Well, if they put stuff out on par with this game, they absolutely fucking can. I'll get on with my life in the meanwhile. I'm a bit more sympathetic to those who played it on release. But I can't really know or care much about how the game was seven years ago, so much as what it was like when I was playing it seven days ago.
It tells the tale of four friends who set out on a journey to obtain a ring and end up fighting a threat that could plunge the world in darkness forevermore (J. R. R. Tolkien should sue). Prince Noctis and his childhood friends-turned-bodyguards are planning to have the best road trip ever before he gets married and saves the world and all that. These lads are a Japanese schoolgirl's wet dream - carelessly handsome, unabashedly silly, and more concerned with the trendiness of their clothes than the gravitas of their destiny.
This is the highlight of Final Fantasy XV - the main cast is a bunch of sheltered dandies who have to come to terms with the greatness that has been thrust upon them. Their personal growth, their earnest moments of brotherhood, and their banter-laden interactions are the heart of the narrative. The hero isn't a po-faced paladin of justice - he's one of the guys. Watching him mature into a true king is quite the journey.
Final Fantasy XV also has one of the most beautifully rendered open worlds I've seen. It caused me to appreciate nature more, because real life looks a lot like Final Fantasy XV. And trust me, you spend about as much time driving in this game as you would in real life. The car, the Regalia, is the fifth main character. If there's one thing I could wish for, it would be that your control over the car wasn't so limited for most of the game. But even with its mostly autopilot navigation, sitting back and admiring the scenery while listening to music from past FF titles was quite the experience.
This open-world design continues for half the game, of which most of your time will be spent doing sidequests. I'm told I generally rush RPGs, but I definitely didn't rush Final Fantasy XV, because there's so much to do - and so much fun to be had doing it. It's enough to put the main story on the backburner, it is, what with all the games-within-a-game it offers. Fishing? Monster hunting? Pinball on steroids? This game has it. And with the game's reward mechanics, plus the promise of interesting conversations with the supporting cast, nearly every sidequest feels worth doing. Even if it's a blatant advertisement for Cup Noodles. Look, they had to get the budget to make this game look so beautiful somewhere, okay?
In an inversion of Final Fantasy XIII, the first half of XV is open-world and laden with sidequests, while the second half is linear. I know 'linearity' is a dirty word to a lot of gamers, but I can't complain about it in either of these games. Once the plot in Final Fantasy XV starts getting funneled towards its conclusion, it also becomes much more focused and much more heartrending. I was almost in tears in this game's campaign as many times as I've been with all the previous games I've played put together. And I commend the game's writing and directing team for being unafraid to commit to the tragedy, something quite a few Final Fantasy stories pull back from at the last moment. For its story alone, Final Fantasy XV is a triumph.
This game also marks a true departure from the Active Time Battle system of past Final Fantasies, something the series has been trying to break away from for over a decade. Finally, the series commits to real-time hack-and-slash combat. There's a wait mode, but it seems to simply be an accessibility option for handicapped players. The combat is a lot of fun. Once you get the hang of the dodge/parry mechanics, and can switch between defense and aggression on the fly, there's a lot of fun to be had, even if the camera sometimes obstructs your view when fighting large enemies.
While I encountered no major bugs during my playthrough, there is no hiding the fact that this is very much a game that spent ten years in development. Final Fantasy XV is hardly consistent, but then again, the Final Fantasy series as a whole isn't consistent. My favourite analogy to make is that if Dragon Quest is AC/DC, Final Fantasy is Guns N' Roses. It's large, unwieldy and all over the place, but if it's a series of very low lows (fuck FF XIII-2), it also has very high highs. Final Fantasy XV is a very high high. If Metal Gear Solid V hadn't come out, on release XV would have been the greatest unfinished game ever made. But it is finished now, with DLC episodes to fill in the blanks and show how adaptable the game engine is to different gameplay styles, and it goes on sale for a fiver. There is no better time to play this game than now.
Ultimately, Final Fantasy XV is a fantastic experience with a lot to do and even more to appreciate. Its emphasis on brotherhood reminded me of my own college clique. I oughta call those guys sometime.
Capcom will do literally anything to avoid remaking Outbreak, huh?
2020
Were it not for Code Veronica, Resident Evil 3: Nemesis would be the RE game that needed a remake the most. While it was a fun, hectic survival horror experience, it also suffered from a couple of downright unfair boss fights and puzzles (I have never managed to beat Nemesis at the clock tower without breaking his AI). It also doesn't feel as replayable as the first two entries. Hot off the heels of a smash hit in the Resident Evil 2 remake, Capcom had the opportunity to 'fix' RE3 and ensure it would be as beloved and alive in the public consciousness as the games on either side of it.
Well, now we know why Capcom calls them 'reimaginings' instead of 'remakes.'
R3make is not a bad game. It's a thrill ride with a breakneck pace and gorgeous visuals to boot. Raccoon City feels more real than ever as it burns down, and there are plenty of tense escapes to be had from the iconic Nemesis. During my first sitting, I played the game until my wrists hurt, and for a while I was convinced that the game was even better than RE2make.
Which is why I recommend finishing the game in a single session if you can; even at a relaxed pace, it should take five hours at most. If you don't, the flaws will start to show. You'll notice how much of the game revolves around wresting control from the player to deliver scripted setpieces, which while gorgeous do often veer into the routine of 'cutscene -> walk a few steps -> cutscene.' You'll notice that for some odd reason, the danger of RE2make has been cut out - it's extremely easy to tell when a zombie is truly dead here, because they stop ragdolling; Nemesis is easy to escape and only shows up when he's meant to. You'll notice the lack of open-ended exploration; organic discovery has been eschewed for tightly controlled 'moments.' And perhaps you'll get over how beautiful Jill looks in this game to realize what a cranky bitch Capcom turned her into.
The designers giveth, and the writers taketh away. While Carlos has been granted a much-needed glow-up that transforms him from a bland stereotype into a likable co-protagonist, Jill's characterization has been butchered. Not only did she go to the Tomb Raider Reboot school of 'falling from heights the entire game,' but she's distinctly more generic and 'stock' than her previous incarnations. Her attitude during her first encounter with the Umbrella security team may be justified; the rest of the game, less so. Some of the writing, especially at the conclusion the game rushes into to keep from unravelling completely, is enough to make one wince - not charming enough to be campy, and not mature enough to be realistic.
R3make also precipitated an outcry over its omission of certain sections of the original game. I have mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it keeps the game moving along at a frenetic clip that's ideal for playing through in a single sitting. On the other, some of the cooler portions of the original RE3 have been lost. The lack of any gameplay modes besides the campaign is also a disappointment; I'm aware RE: Resistance came bundled, but I'll be reviewing that as a separate game. What I'm really asking is: where the hell is Mercenaries?
This is a fun game that controls well and looks gorgeous, but it doesn't live up to its potential. Somewhere in development, it was rushed. Unlike the first RE game's remake, which for casual players rendered the PS1 iteration obsolete, R3make feels neither definitive nor essential. I recommend buying this only at a hefty discount.
Well, now we know why Capcom calls them 'reimaginings' instead of 'remakes.'
R3make is not a bad game. It's a thrill ride with a breakneck pace and gorgeous visuals to boot. Raccoon City feels more real than ever as it burns down, and there are plenty of tense escapes to be had from the iconic Nemesis. During my first sitting, I played the game until my wrists hurt, and for a while I was convinced that the game was even better than RE2make.
Which is why I recommend finishing the game in a single session if you can; even at a relaxed pace, it should take five hours at most. If you don't, the flaws will start to show. You'll notice how much of the game revolves around wresting control from the player to deliver scripted setpieces, which while gorgeous do often veer into the routine of 'cutscene -> walk a few steps -> cutscene.' You'll notice that for some odd reason, the danger of RE2make has been cut out - it's extremely easy to tell when a zombie is truly dead here, because they stop ragdolling; Nemesis is easy to escape and only shows up when he's meant to. You'll notice the lack of open-ended exploration; organic discovery has been eschewed for tightly controlled 'moments.' And perhaps you'll get over how beautiful Jill looks in this game to realize what a cranky bitch Capcom turned her into.
The designers giveth, and the writers taketh away. While Carlos has been granted a much-needed glow-up that transforms him from a bland stereotype into a likable co-protagonist, Jill's characterization has been butchered. Not only did she go to the Tomb Raider Reboot school of 'falling from heights the entire game,' but she's distinctly more generic and 'stock' than her previous incarnations. Her attitude during her first encounter with the Umbrella security team may be justified; the rest of the game, less so. Some of the writing, especially at the conclusion the game rushes into to keep from unravelling completely, is enough to make one wince - not charming enough to be campy, and not mature enough to be realistic.
R3make also precipitated an outcry over its omission of certain sections of the original game. I have mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it keeps the game moving along at a frenetic clip that's ideal for playing through in a single sitting. On the other, some of the cooler portions of the original RE3 have been lost. The lack of any gameplay modes besides the campaign is also a disappointment; I'm aware RE: Resistance came bundled, but I'll be reviewing that as a separate game. What I'm really asking is: where the hell is Mercenaries?
This is a fun game that controls well and looks gorgeous, but it doesn't live up to its potential. Somewhere in development, it was rushed. Unlike the first RE game's remake, which for casual players rendered the PS1 iteration obsolete, R3make feels neither definitive nor essential. I recommend buying this only at a hefty discount.
Tomb Raider III is the red-headed stepchild of the series. For the general public, it's the most inaccessible, and for me, it's the only game in the series I have no substantial childhood memories of; I went into this game with none of the emotional connection the other titles have for me.
Which is just as well. This game hates you. When people say this is the hardest game in the series, they're lying. Tomb Raider II is hard. Tomb Raider III is 'go fuck yourself.' Actual combat is fairly easy, and the last half of the game is surprisingly devoid of devious traps or narrow escapes. Instead, this game is deeply tedious: it's player-unfriendly to the point that I'm convinced the point was to get people to buy the strategy guide (GameFAQs didn't exist back then). I dare anyone, in the year of our Lord 2024, to beat this game without referring once to Stella's Tomb Raider site for a walkthrough. God bless that lady. It simply can't be done.
But it's no fun playing a game you have to Alt-Tab out of every few minutes to make sure you're on the right path or not. It's no fun reading ahead to make sure you won't be fucked over by the game's myriad asspulls, and it's no fun wondering to yourself if it's really worth doing this instead of just YouTubing the cutscenes and calling it a day. I tried, I honestly tried, to beat the game honestly - that was part of my intention with marathoning this series. But I also want to do it while I'm still in my twenties, and without developing hypertension. Halfway through, I caved.
If the first Tomb Raider was about the joy of exploration, Tomb Raider III is about the misery of being lost. This is a game where you do not want to find secrets, because it means you're not on the right path. And all of this is by design. When you pulled a lever or pressed a switch in the first two games, the camera would show you which door had opened so you'd know where to go. Tomb Raider III often eschews this in favour of leaving you to wander around wondering, "Now what did that switch do? Did it even do anything?"
Right from the beginning levels you know the game hates you, where certain sections of the walls are actually movable blocks - except they have the same texture as the walls on either side, and no context clue to suggest they can be interacted with. Going around tapping on walls on the off chance there will be some way out of here isn't what I play this series for. Neither is being forced to backtrack and re-do the entire level because I missed a key somewhere. The first two games were really good about closing off areas once you were done with them, and only letting you pass certain sections if you had all the items you needed. Not so in this game.
And yet, you can see they put so much effort into it. This game clearly wasn't half-assed. Everything that crazy animated Lara promised is here. The music and graphics are amazing, the environments are varied and detailed, there are so many particle effects - primitive now, revolutionary then. There's rain and snow and footprints and the fogging of Lara's breath in cold areas. There are so many vehicles to drive (the kayak level is ass though), so many outfits, so many places to visit. There are so many cinematic sequences that looks incredible for 1998. There are stealth elements (though it's no Metal Gear Solid), vengeful Hindu deities, aliens, ATVs, mutant zombies, Pacific Islanders portrayed through the extremely racist caricature of being ooga booga cannibals... This game is absolutely huge. And yet the game is so unwilling to let you enjoy it.
The story is a funny thing. Our heroine is an absolute fucking psychopath here. In the past, enemies she killed were animals trying to tear out her throat, monsters, mobsters, and genuine villains. This game, however, positions her squarely as the bad guy - there's no way around it. Without mercy, Lara kills security guards who are just doing their job, homeless people, and tribesmen who are simply defending their domain. She breaks some dangerous criminals out of an Area 51 prison to kill the guards who arrested her for trespassing, and breezily comments about how Pacific Islanders are fond of 'white meat.' It's so cartoonish it makes me laugh. This is 1998, remember. Video games no longer had the excuse of amorality.
It's a shame, but I really can't recommend Tomb Raider III to any but the most dedicated fans, who are willing to put up with it. There's no real reward to playing through this game, except learning about Lara's comically dark side, perhaps. The thought of Tomb Raider III is far, far more exciting than the actual experience. There are so many great ideas in here, and the technology is leaps and bounds above its predecessors. But the fun factor simply isn't there; it's buried under its obfuscating nature. Some folks tell me this game is better on a second playthrough. I suspect they're the same guys who told Sony, "Re-release Morbius in theatres. It'll be a massive hit."
Which is just as well. This game hates you. When people say this is the hardest game in the series, they're lying. Tomb Raider II is hard. Tomb Raider III is 'go fuck yourself.' Actual combat is fairly easy, and the last half of the game is surprisingly devoid of devious traps or narrow escapes. Instead, this game is deeply tedious: it's player-unfriendly to the point that I'm convinced the point was to get people to buy the strategy guide (GameFAQs didn't exist back then). I dare anyone, in the year of our Lord 2024, to beat this game without referring once to Stella's Tomb Raider site for a walkthrough. God bless that lady. It simply can't be done.
But it's no fun playing a game you have to Alt-Tab out of every few minutes to make sure you're on the right path or not. It's no fun reading ahead to make sure you won't be fucked over by the game's myriad asspulls, and it's no fun wondering to yourself if it's really worth doing this instead of just YouTubing the cutscenes and calling it a day. I tried, I honestly tried, to beat the game honestly - that was part of my intention with marathoning this series. But I also want to do it while I'm still in my twenties, and without developing hypertension. Halfway through, I caved.
If the first Tomb Raider was about the joy of exploration, Tomb Raider III is about the misery of being lost. This is a game where you do not want to find secrets, because it means you're not on the right path. And all of this is by design. When you pulled a lever or pressed a switch in the first two games, the camera would show you which door had opened so you'd know where to go. Tomb Raider III often eschews this in favour of leaving you to wander around wondering, "Now what did that switch do? Did it even do anything?"
Right from the beginning levels you know the game hates you, where certain sections of the walls are actually movable blocks - except they have the same texture as the walls on either side, and no context clue to suggest they can be interacted with. Going around tapping on walls on the off chance there will be some way out of here isn't what I play this series for. Neither is being forced to backtrack and re-do the entire level because I missed a key somewhere. The first two games were really good about closing off areas once you were done with them, and only letting you pass certain sections if you had all the items you needed. Not so in this game.
And yet, you can see they put so much effort into it. This game clearly wasn't half-assed. Everything that crazy animated Lara promised is here. The music and graphics are amazing, the environments are varied and detailed, there are so many particle effects - primitive now, revolutionary then. There's rain and snow and footprints and the fogging of Lara's breath in cold areas. There are so many vehicles to drive (the kayak level is ass though), so many outfits, so many places to visit. There are so many cinematic sequences that looks incredible for 1998. There are stealth elements (though it's no Metal Gear Solid), vengeful Hindu deities, aliens, ATVs, mutant zombies, Pacific Islanders portrayed through the extremely racist caricature of being ooga booga cannibals... This game is absolutely huge. And yet the game is so unwilling to let you enjoy it.
The story is a funny thing. Our heroine is an absolute fucking psychopath here. In the past, enemies she killed were animals trying to tear out her throat, monsters, mobsters, and genuine villains. This game, however, positions her squarely as the bad guy - there's no way around it. Without mercy, Lara kills security guards who are just doing their job, homeless people, and tribesmen who are simply defending their domain. She breaks some dangerous criminals out of an Area 51 prison to kill the guards who arrested her for trespassing, and breezily comments about how Pacific Islanders are fond of 'white meat.' It's so cartoonish it makes me laugh. This is 1998, remember. Video games no longer had the excuse of amorality.
It's a shame, but I really can't recommend Tomb Raider III to any but the most dedicated fans, who are willing to put up with it. There's no real reward to playing through this game, except learning about Lara's comically dark side, perhaps. The thought of Tomb Raider III is far, far more exciting than the actual experience. There are so many great ideas in here, and the technology is leaps and bounds above its predecessors. But the fun factor simply isn't there; it's buried under its obfuscating nature. Some folks tell me this game is better on a second playthrough. I suspect they're the same guys who told Sony, "Re-release Morbius in theatres. It'll be a massive hit."
2019
Resident Evil 2 for the PS1 is a deserved regular in the upper echelons of survival horror. By the late 2010s, a remake was long overdue. Capcom finally obliged, and boy did it do them a world of good. 2017 onwards has been a second golden age for Capcom: the once wayward developer, infamous for on-disk DLC and treating Mega Man like a bastard child, now releases hit after hit, games that are both critical and commercial juggernauts. Resident Evil 2, I feel, is what solidified this success.
A good remake is one that modernizes a classic yet preserves its spirit (something the House of the Dead Remake was emphatically not). Resident Evil 2 passes this test with flying colours. For someone who first played the original shortly after learning to tie his shoelaces, this game looks like what my child mind - unbothered by how pixelated and polygonal things were - imagined the PS1 version to be. Great care has been taken to breathe new life into the original's visuals; however, this game looks great even on its own terms. If you shoot a zombie, he'll lose a chunk of flesh at the exact point of impact. If its raining outside, your character will get realistically drenched. If a character smiles, you can count their individual teeth (which was at first almost uncanny to me, not being used to realistic teeth in games).
While RE2 could easily have dwelt in the past, its gameplay also looks ahead. This game blends old and new survival horror conventions: resource management, puzzle-solving and exploration are combined with hide, seek, or flat-out flight from an indestructible monster as in Amnesia: The Dark Descent. It makes for a thrilling and at times unpredictable game that kept even an RE veteran like me on his toes. The combat is solid, and in all honesty, this game feels better to play than the original. There, I said it.
The first third of this game is a masterstroke. It feels oppressive and stressful, yet so compelling, and its gameplay is so well-designed that you'll get 'organic' jumpscares. There is rarely a time where you feel completely safe.
That said, this game does peak early. The police station is far more fulfilling to explore than the later sewer section and the underground lab. (Spoilers for anyone who's been under a rock for 26 years - RE2 has an underground lab). While they're still fun, a great deal of tension is removed from the game once you've gotten past the iconic locations.
First impressions last, but after 19 hours with RE2, I can see that it's not the flawless game I thought it was in the honeymoon phase. Most egregiously, unlike the original, there aren't four scenarios in this remake. To be completely honest, there aren't even two. Oh, you can choose between Leon and Claire - you have to play both, to get the real ending. But apart from about ten minutes' worth of differences, depending on your character, there is really only one scenario in this game. The original RE2's scenarios melded into each other perfectly, with the characters even meeting each other at various points. In the remake, almost the whole campaign - including puzzles, boss fights and rooms visited - is the exact same, and while it may be good enough to warrant playing twice with different characters, it's still recycling.
Not only do Leon and Sherry never interact till the end, but there are scenes regarding Annette Birkin that make it impossible for the two scenarios to be set in the same continuity - and it's up to you to decide what's canon. I'm not a fan of that, really - it means there's less content than the original. A few extra modes - including a nail-bitingly tense special mission as beloved characters Hunk and Tofu - round out the offering.
Regardless of these nitpicks, RE2 is an excellent game that's accessible to new players and familiar to series veterans. This is a triumph whose high Capcom still rides five years later. Now do Dino Crisis.
A good remake is one that modernizes a classic yet preserves its spirit (something the House of the Dead Remake was emphatically not). Resident Evil 2 passes this test with flying colours. For someone who first played the original shortly after learning to tie his shoelaces, this game looks like what my child mind - unbothered by how pixelated and polygonal things were - imagined the PS1 version to be. Great care has been taken to breathe new life into the original's visuals; however, this game looks great even on its own terms. If you shoot a zombie, he'll lose a chunk of flesh at the exact point of impact. If its raining outside, your character will get realistically drenched. If a character smiles, you can count their individual teeth (which was at first almost uncanny to me, not being used to realistic teeth in games).
While RE2 could easily have dwelt in the past, its gameplay also looks ahead. This game blends old and new survival horror conventions: resource management, puzzle-solving and exploration are combined with hide, seek, or flat-out flight from an indestructible monster as in Amnesia: The Dark Descent. It makes for a thrilling and at times unpredictable game that kept even an RE veteran like me on his toes. The combat is solid, and in all honesty, this game feels better to play than the original. There, I said it.
The first third of this game is a masterstroke. It feels oppressive and stressful, yet so compelling, and its gameplay is so well-designed that you'll get 'organic' jumpscares. There is rarely a time where you feel completely safe.
That said, this game does peak early. The police station is far more fulfilling to explore than the later sewer section and the underground lab. (Spoilers for anyone who's been under a rock for 26 years - RE2 has an underground lab). While they're still fun, a great deal of tension is removed from the game once you've gotten past the iconic locations.
First impressions last, but after 19 hours with RE2, I can see that it's not the flawless game I thought it was in the honeymoon phase. Most egregiously, unlike the original, there aren't four scenarios in this remake. To be completely honest, there aren't even two. Oh, you can choose between Leon and Claire - you have to play both, to get the real ending. But apart from about ten minutes' worth of differences, depending on your character, there is really only one scenario in this game. The original RE2's scenarios melded into each other perfectly, with the characters even meeting each other at various points. In the remake, almost the whole campaign - including puzzles, boss fights and rooms visited - is the exact same, and while it may be good enough to warrant playing twice with different characters, it's still recycling.
Not only do Leon and Sherry never interact till the end, but there are scenes regarding Annette Birkin that make it impossible for the two scenarios to be set in the same continuity - and it's up to you to decide what's canon. I'm not a fan of that, really - it means there's less content than the original. A few extra modes - including a nail-bitingly tense special mission as beloved characters Hunk and Tofu - round out the offering.
Regardless of these nitpicks, RE2 is an excellent game that's accessible to new players and familiar to series veterans. This is a triumph whose high Capcom still rides five years later. Now do Dino Crisis.
When I was a child, there were three games that pretty much any other kid you met was guaranteed to have played: Tekken 3, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, and The House of the Dead. While the latter did not have the staying power of the other two, particularly after the rail shooter genre died out, HOTD was very impactful in its time. Alongside Resident Evil, it revived zombies in the public imagination - going so far as to inspire the likes of George A. Romero. So when I heard the news that one of my most beloved childhood games was getting a remake, I was ecstatic.
Until I watched some gameplay footage, anyway. But I believe watching a game and playing it are often two very different experiences, so here we are: I've finally played through House of the Dead Remake.
It's a pile of shit. This has to be one of the worst remakes I've ever played. Given Sega's lack of interest in reanimating this old zombie, I feel like developer MegaPixel and publisher Forever Entertainment's main interests lay in wresting some nostalgia dollars from people who grew up playing the original, because this is clearly not an attempt to introduce a classic to a new generation of fans. There simply isn't enough effort put in. Gone are the iconic character designs, the vibrant and striking colour palette, the campy fun, the well-animated violence, the punchy sound effects and the incredible soundtrack.
Instead, what we've got here is a washed-out blob of mediocrity. Everything is functional, and nothing more. The art design is hideous, with only the Hermit boss looking decent, and it's hard to even tell things apart. The fluid effects - blood, slime, water, lava - are distractingly bad and feel like they come from a pre-alpha version of the game. The guns sound like toys. They feel weak too, because the ragdoll physics are so limp compared to the hand-animated reactions of enemies in the 1996 game. I could go on and on.
The original House of the Dead had a distinct corny charm born from its lack of self-awareness. House of the Dead Remake feels like it's trying to border on parody, but it doesn't even accomplish that. For whatever odd reason, the serious parts have been made more serious and the comic parts more comic, and the end result doesn't mesh well.
The most heinous crime of all is the soundtrack. The original House of the Dead boasts some of the best arcade music in history. House of the Dead Remake's OST sounds like a YouTube musician making HOTD-inspired music, and you know how YouTube musicians are. Everything has been douched up with excessive synths and shred-metal wankery. No sense of proportion. I know, I know, Forever Entertainment didn't license the original's soundtrack and the composer's Twinkies were too soggy and bla bla bla. I also don't give a shit; I have my own problems. This soundtrack isn't bad just compared to the original, it's bad by itself. It sounds like circus music, and strengthens my feeling that no one making this remake was interested in the cohesive whole as much as their own contribution.
This is a very harsh assessment, but I feel MegaPixel's dev team were simply too immature. Talented people who are probably big fans of the original game, but have neither honed their craft nor learned about subtlety enough to have a project like this outsourced to them. The emojis in the loading screens contributed to this conclusion. [¬º-°]¬
Playing House of the Dead Remake is like drinking a soda after it's gone flat. It wears the skin of the original, but lacks the heart. 'Soul vs soulless remake' is a bit of a meme, but I feel it really applies here. The original game managed to do more with technology 25 years in the past. Go play that.
Until I watched some gameplay footage, anyway. But I believe watching a game and playing it are often two very different experiences, so here we are: I've finally played through House of the Dead Remake.
It's a pile of shit. This has to be one of the worst remakes I've ever played. Given Sega's lack of interest in reanimating this old zombie, I feel like developer MegaPixel and publisher Forever Entertainment's main interests lay in wresting some nostalgia dollars from people who grew up playing the original, because this is clearly not an attempt to introduce a classic to a new generation of fans. There simply isn't enough effort put in. Gone are the iconic character designs, the vibrant and striking colour palette, the campy fun, the well-animated violence, the punchy sound effects and the incredible soundtrack.
Instead, what we've got here is a washed-out blob of mediocrity. Everything is functional, and nothing more. The art design is hideous, with only the Hermit boss looking decent, and it's hard to even tell things apart. The fluid effects - blood, slime, water, lava - are distractingly bad and feel like they come from a pre-alpha version of the game. The guns sound like toys. They feel weak too, because the ragdoll physics are so limp compared to the hand-animated reactions of enemies in the 1996 game. I could go on and on.
The original House of the Dead had a distinct corny charm born from its lack of self-awareness. House of the Dead Remake feels like it's trying to border on parody, but it doesn't even accomplish that. For whatever odd reason, the serious parts have been made more serious and the comic parts more comic, and the end result doesn't mesh well.
The most heinous crime of all is the soundtrack. The original House of the Dead boasts some of the best arcade music in history. House of the Dead Remake's OST sounds like a YouTube musician making HOTD-inspired music, and you know how YouTube musicians are. Everything has been douched up with excessive synths and shred-metal wankery. No sense of proportion. I know, I know, Forever Entertainment didn't license the original's soundtrack and the composer's Twinkies were too soggy and bla bla bla. I also don't give a shit; I have my own problems. This soundtrack isn't bad just compared to the original, it's bad by itself. It sounds like circus music, and strengthens my feeling that no one making this remake was interested in the cohesive whole as much as their own contribution.
This is a very harsh assessment, but I feel MegaPixel's dev team were simply too immature. Talented people who are probably big fans of the original game, but have neither honed their craft nor learned about subtlety enough to have a project like this outsourced to them. The emojis in the loading screens contributed to this conclusion. [¬º-°]¬
Playing House of the Dead Remake is like drinking a soda after it's gone flat. It wears the skin of the original, but lacks the heart. 'Soul vs soulless remake' is a bit of a meme, but I feel it really applies here. The original game managed to do more with technology 25 years in the past. Go play that.
This must be the fastest I've ever uninstalled a game in my entire life. Literally the very first frame of the game, showing someone's DeviantArt furry OC - which was supposed to be ME - made me almost vomit up the oranges I just ate. I tried, I really tried, to soldier through. But within two text boxes I had realized I was either too old, too cynical, or not as ... you know... as the typical Sonic fan to suffer through this sickly saccharine garbage. I feel violated for what I saw and what I saw was very little. This game might be free, but I don't think I could play it even if you paid me.
When I was a tiny child, so tiny I could have fit into a handbag, my mother used to drop me off at a neighbour's house when she went shopping. This neighbour, a lady stricken by vitiligo (read: that Michael Jackson skin disease), remains one of the loveliest people I have ever known. Her own children had left the nest, so she was always happy to have me over. There was always something delicious to eat, and I would get to skip tuition when I was at her house, which was a bonus.
She had about 15 cats, which was heaven for me - there were always one or two of them willing to play-hunt. I'd kick a football, they'd chase after it, and my tiny mind would register how similar these diminutive felines looked to lions falling upon deer on National Geographic.
One day the vitiligo-lady (as she will be known henceforth) pulled out a real treasure trove: a stack of books and magazines her children had compiled over the years, and she told me to take whatever I wanted home with me. I was a voracious reader at the time, and she might as well just have given me the key to the library of Babel with how big that collection was. One of the items I took on my two or three trips home that way (so I could carry everything) was a computer magazine called Spider. And in that old issue was an article that has stuck in my mind forever.
"Alice in Nightmareland," the header read. It was a feature on the 2000 classic American McGee's Alice, now one of my favourite games. It promised a dark, twisted take on Lewis Carrol's story, and while it took me a few years before I could play the game, I never forgot that article or the image of the heroine with her bloodstained apron and bigass knife. So much so, in fact, that when I watch other Alice in Wonderland media it always comes as a surprise to me that she's blonde.
It took over a decade for that game to receive a sequel, so I just wasted all your time up there talking about a game I'm not even reviewing. But cut me some slack. Let me retreat to my own Wonderland for a while, okay?
Alice: Madness Returns is, in storytelling and visuals, an utterly fantastic title. It almost transcends other forms of media in how moving its story is, how relatable its heroine, how poignant its lessons, and how satisfying its conclusion. Every environment and every model has been lovingly crafted until the creative leads had finished communicating all they had to say - not one texture in this game is without purpose. American McGee's Alice might have been a stronger game thematically, but Madness Returns has a far better narrative and - helped by both technological advances and raw passion - brings both Wonderland and Victorian London to life in all their gaudy squalor. This is a shock value tour de force. Madness Returns is not a big-budget game, costing $9 million to make in 2011, but you can see where every individual cent was spent: in making this game visually spectacular, with a killer score and award-worthy voice acting.
A pity, then, that the coffers must have been just about empty when the time came to build the gameplay. I don't mean to say that Madness Returns plays badly, but clearly the same love wasn't lavished upon the gameplay as on the presentation. The combat is wonky and repetitive, with the auto-targeting mechanic often being more hindrance than help. There are no boss fights but one, and it's exceedingly obvious they were cut for budgetary reasons. The platforming is frustrating almost as often as it is fun, helped by quick and fluid controls but marred by an uncooperative camera and ill-defined invisible walls. The puzzle-platforming segments are often quite satisfying to solve, but there were a couple I had to give up on through the course of the game, and a few that were snatched from me by poorly-timed cutscenes or level transitions - I ended up achieving 90% completion on my first run, which shows that I definitely had fun, but it makes me wish I could have gone for 100%. Though I doubt it's possible, because of one nagging issue...
Glitches. Glitches and poor performance - the PC version of this game is a far-from-ideal port. Despite its low system requirements, the game lags during action and sometimes freezes outright; crashes and poor performance plagued my entire playthrough. Turning post-processing off improved the stuttering somewhat, but it also left me feeling distinctly aggrieved. My current laptop can best be described as an old mule repurposed as a warhorse, but even with its low specs it should be able to run Alice: Madness Returns on the highest settings twice over. But it can't. I have to lower the graphic settings to make it run smoothly even once, and even then suffer through crashes. And it's not just me. People with much more powerful PCs than mine face the same issues, according to the Steam forums. They're not game-breaking, but they are a blight on one's enjoyment.
Controller support for this game always feels kind of off, as if you're playing with the WASD keys rerouted to the left stick instead of having full 360-degree control. And then there's a bug in the endgame where the game doesn't register you as having grabbed a collectible, which denies you your final health upgrade and might keep you from getting 100% completion. I don't know if other people's computers reproduce this bug, but mine did on both my playthroughs of this game - in 2020, and in 2024. Not to mention, EA are a bunch of greedy louts who disabled content that is included in the game's very own data to sell it as DLC. The evil of this publisher knows no bounds. But - psst! - you can access the DLC for this game for free by editing a configuration file. Keep it hushity hush.
Alice: Madness Returns is a game so great in its story that it makes one wonder how it would have turned out if it wasn't so flawed in its mechanics. In a perfect world, EA would be a better company and greenlight Alice: Asylum, and the gaming industry wouldn't deprived of American McGee's genius. But this is not a perfect world. So I do recommend Alice: Madness Returns for its narrative and visuals, but I also don't want you giving EA too much money for this buggy mess of a PC port. Buy it on a 75-90% sale, or sail, if you know what I mean. Wink wink nudge nudge, say no more. Nod's as good as a wink to a blind bad.
I should visit that vitiligo-lady one of these days, just so I can thank her.
She had about 15 cats, which was heaven for me - there were always one or two of them willing to play-hunt. I'd kick a football, they'd chase after it, and my tiny mind would register how similar these diminutive felines looked to lions falling upon deer on National Geographic.
One day the vitiligo-lady (as she will be known henceforth) pulled out a real treasure trove: a stack of books and magazines her children had compiled over the years, and she told me to take whatever I wanted home with me. I was a voracious reader at the time, and she might as well just have given me the key to the library of Babel with how big that collection was. One of the items I took on my two or three trips home that way (so I could carry everything) was a computer magazine called Spider. And in that old issue was an article that has stuck in my mind forever.
"Alice in Nightmareland," the header read. It was a feature on the 2000 classic American McGee's Alice, now one of my favourite games. It promised a dark, twisted take on Lewis Carrol's story, and while it took me a few years before I could play the game, I never forgot that article or the image of the heroine with her bloodstained apron and bigass knife. So much so, in fact, that when I watch other Alice in Wonderland media it always comes as a surprise to me that she's blonde.
It took over a decade for that game to receive a sequel, so I just wasted all your time up there talking about a game I'm not even reviewing. But cut me some slack. Let me retreat to my own Wonderland for a while, okay?
Alice: Madness Returns is, in storytelling and visuals, an utterly fantastic title. It almost transcends other forms of media in how moving its story is, how relatable its heroine, how poignant its lessons, and how satisfying its conclusion. Every environment and every model has been lovingly crafted until the creative leads had finished communicating all they had to say - not one texture in this game is without purpose. American McGee's Alice might have been a stronger game thematically, but Madness Returns has a far better narrative and - helped by both technological advances and raw passion - brings both Wonderland and Victorian London to life in all their gaudy squalor. This is a shock value tour de force. Madness Returns is not a big-budget game, costing $9 million to make in 2011, but you can see where every individual cent was spent: in making this game visually spectacular, with a killer score and award-worthy voice acting.
A pity, then, that the coffers must have been just about empty when the time came to build the gameplay. I don't mean to say that Madness Returns plays badly, but clearly the same love wasn't lavished upon the gameplay as on the presentation. The combat is wonky and repetitive, with the auto-targeting mechanic often being more hindrance than help. There are no boss fights but one, and it's exceedingly obvious they were cut for budgetary reasons. The platforming is frustrating almost as often as it is fun, helped by quick and fluid controls but marred by an uncooperative camera and ill-defined invisible walls. The puzzle-platforming segments are often quite satisfying to solve, but there were a couple I had to give up on through the course of the game, and a few that were snatched from me by poorly-timed cutscenes or level transitions - I ended up achieving 90% completion on my first run, which shows that I definitely had fun, but it makes me wish I could have gone for 100%. Though I doubt it's possible, because of one nagging issue...
Glitches. Glitches and poor performance - the PC version of this game is a far-from-ideal port. Despite its low system requirements, the game lags during action and sometimes freezes outright; crashes and poor performance plagued my entire playthrough. Turning post-processing off improved the stuttering somewhat, but it also left me feeling distinctly aggrieved. My current laptop can best be described as an old mule repurposed as a warhorse, but even with its low specs it should be able to run Alice: Madness Returns on the highest settings twice over. But it can't. I have to lower the graphic settings to make it run smoothly even once, and even then suffer through crashes. And it's not just me. People with much more powerful PCs than mine face the same issues, according to the Steam forums. They're not game-breaking, but they are a blight on one's enjoyment.
Controller support for this game always feels kind of off, as if you're playing with the WASD keys rerouted to the left stick instead of having full 360-degree control. And then there's a bug in the endgame where the game doesn't register you as having grabbed a collectible, which denies you your final health upgrade and might keep you from getting 100% completion. I don't know if other people's computers reproduce this bug, but mine did on both my playthroughs of this game - in 2020, and in 2024. Not to mention, EA are a bunch of greedy louts who disabled content that is included in the game's very own data to sell it as DLC. The evil of this publisher knows no bounds. But - psst! - you can access the DLC for this game for free by editing a configuration file. Keep it hushity hush.
Alice: Madness Returns is a game so great in its story that it makes one wonder how it would have turned out if it wasn't so flawed in its mechanics. In a perfect world, EA would be a better company and greenlight Alice: Asylum, and the gaming industry wouldn't deprived of American McGee's genius. But this is not a perfect world. So I do recommend Alice: Madness Returns for its narrative and visuals, but I also don't want you giving EA too much money for this buggy mess of a PC port. Buy it on a 75-90% sale, or sail, if you know what I mean. Wink wink nudge nudge, say no more. Nod's as good as a wink to a blind bad.
I should visit that vitiligo-lady one of these days, just so I can thank her.
2011
Dead Space 2 and I go quite a ways back. My first exposure to the game was at an electronics store where it was being showcased, perhaps to prove that video game graphics had gotten as good as they ever needed to be. My child mind could hardly comprehend that the footage being played onscreen was being rendered in real-time.
Not long after, I had my second brush with the game through IGN's utterly disastrous review of it, proving once and for all that professional game journalism was a bad joke. I still wonder why Greg Miller's opening paragraph made it sound like he had lost his virginity to this game. But I digress.
It took me until 2020 to play Dead Space 2, and it truly was all it was cracked up to be. The visuals are stellar, the gameplay is refined to near-perfection, and there's never a dull moment. This is the game that Doom 3 wanted to be. The slow-paced survival horror of the first iteration has been exchanged for fast and furious necromorph-killing fun. Holy fuck this game is incredible. It controls so well, progresses so seamlessly, and never ceases to impress with its graphics and sound design. I recommend that everyone play this game once in their life.
Then why, you may ask, did I score this game lower than the original? Because I recommend everyone play it in their life just once. I wrote my Dead Space review immediately after finishing it. I'm writing my Dead Space 2 review after a second playthrough, four years removed from the first, and I've realized something.
There's nothing more in the game to do.
This is especially true of the PC version, which lacks achievements, but even if we disqualify that, Dead Space 2's lack of replay value stands in stark contrast to its inspiration - the Resident Evil series, which is infinitely replayable and has a wealth of content even after beating the campaign. There are no extras, no incentives for repeat playthroughs. There is a New Game+, but it only further trivializes the campaign. There used to be multiplayer, but to nobody's surprise, EA took the servers down. They're still charging $20 for a game that's thirteen years old though. Stay classy, EA.
My second playthrough was also marred by cracks in what at first seemed like a perfect story mode. The narrative is filled with the kind of technobabble that had me convinced I disliked sci-fi until I watched Blade Runner, and I was left scratching my head as to how some of the environments connected together. The characters are black holes of charisma (even if Isaac's voice actor has one of the best line deliveries in media history), and sometimes I wished there was a 'Shut Up mode' where the brilliant gameplay wouldn't be interrupted by the repetitive story beats. How many times is this bitch gonna freeze the controls to bleat her sci-fi jargon at me when I just want to KILL dammit?
So that's my main issue with Dead Space 2: like rice, it's best when it's fresh, and will never be as good again. That, and how dour the game is. No game that has a Havok physics engine should take itself this seriously. The Dead Space series is to Resident Evil what Marilyn Manson is to Alice Cooper: it's sleeker, heavier and more aggressive, but it's missing the campiness, subtlety and humour that has kept its inspiration bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Marilyn Manson is fat now, okay? Looks like he had one sweet dream too many.
Regardless, it would be unfair to say Dead Space 2 isn't a very good game. For the seven hours it takes to beat the first time, it's absolutely unmatched. I just wish it had held up on a repeat playthrough, or had more to do after you've finished it once. But don't deny yourself the privilege of that one time. Buy this game when it goes on sale. It'll be one of the best fivers you'll ever spend.
Not long after, I had my second brush with the game through IGN's utterly disastrous review of it, proving once and for all that professional game journalism was a bad joke. I still wonder why Greg Miller's opening paragraph made it sound like he had lost his virginity to this game. But I digress.
It took me until 2020 to play Dead Space 2, and it truly was all it was cracked up to be. The visuals are stellar, the gameplay is refined to near-perfection, and there's never a dull moment. This is the game that Doom 3 wanted to be. The slow-paced survival horror of the first iteration has been exchanged for fast and furious necromorph-killing fun. Holy fuck this game is incredible. It controls so well, progresses so seamlessly, and never ceases to impress with its graphics and sound design. I recommend that everyone play this game once in their life.
Then why, you may ask, did I score this game lower than the original? Because I recommend everyone play it in their life just once. I wrote my Dead Space review immediately after finishing it. I'm writing my Dead Space 2 review after a second playthrough, four years removed from the first, and I've realized something.
There's nothing more in the game to do.
This is especially true of the PC version, which lacks achievements, but even if we disqualify that, Dead Space 2's lack of replay value stands in stark contrast to its inspiration - the Resident Evil series, which is infinitely replayable and has a wealth of content even after beating the campaign. There are no extras, no incentives for repeat playthroughs. There is a New Game+, but it only further trivializes the campaign. There used to be multiplayer, but to nobody's surprise, EA took the servers down. They're still charging $20 for a game that's thirteen years old though. Stay classy, EA.
My second playthrough was also marred by cracks in what at first seemed like a perfect story mode. The narrative is filled with the kind of technobabble that had me convinced I disliked sci-fi until I watched Blade Runner, and I was left scratching my head as to how some of the environments connected together. The characters are black holes of charisma (even if Isaac's voice actor has one of the best line deliveries in media history), and sometimes I wished there was a 'Shut Up mode' where the brilliant gameplay wouldn't be interrupted by the repetitive story beats. How many times is this bitch gonna freeze the controls to bleat her sci-fi jargon at me when I just want to KILL dammit?
So that's my main issue with Dead Space 2: like rice, it's best when it's fresh, and will never be as good again. That, and how dour the game is. No game that has a Havok physics engine should take itself this seriously. The Dead Space series is to Resident Evil what Marilyn Manson is to Alice Cooper: it's sleeker, heavier and more aggressive, but it's missing the campiness, subtlety and humour that has kept its inspiration bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Marilyn Manson is fat now, okay? Looks like he had one sweet dream too many.
Regardless, it would be unfair to say Dead Space 2 isn't a very good game. For the seven hours it takes to beat the first time, it's absolutely unmatched. I just wish it had held up on a repeat playthrough, or had more to do after you've finished it once. But don't deny yourself the privilege of that one time. Buy this game when it goes on sale. It'll be one of the best fivers you'll ever spend.
1999
For my review of the main game, please see here. For Tomb Raider II: Gold, I'm just reviewing the Golden Mask expansion pack.
The English language is home to many beautiful turns of phrase. One such expression I've particularly grown to like is, "Fuck me." You'll want to familiarize yourself with it before starting The Golden Mask. When a game starts off by dropping you in deep water with a great white shark, forcing you to swim for all you're worth as you collect harpoons and a spear gun to fend off said shark which will be chasing you the entire time, and you climb out onto dry land only to immediately be attacked by three snow leopards and half a dozen rolling boulders, that's what your reaction will be.
And all that's before the invisible pikemen show up.
For Tomb Raider veterans, The Golden Mask is a satisfying expansion pack. The first two levels especially are on par with the base game in quality, and they finally figured out how to make combat fun - give Lara some actual room to maneuver. They're also very cinematic - to a fault, almost. The environments are interesting, with Soviet imagery adorning the walls in the first couple of levels, replaced by cave paintings as you venture deeper underground.
Gameplay-wise, though, some of the later parts feel like they had less thought put into their design. One of the puzzles is frustrating enough that solving it through guesswork is as effective as applying actual brainpower, and I got through one of the platforming sections by sheer luck because there's no way in hell the limited camera would let me see where I was going.
However, nitpicks aside, this is a solid set of levels. It nearly matches the base game in quality, and delivers more of the thrilling platforming action that makes this series so rewarding.
There's a super-secret bonus level called Nightmare in Vegas, that you can get by collecting all the secrets. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever be able to access it honestly: the best I can do is YouTube it. 100%ing these games is a pipe dream left to better men and women than I. For me, just getting through this expansion pack with minimal deaths is a matter of pride.
The English language is home to many beautiful turns of phrase. One such expression I've particularly grown to like is, "Fuck me." You'll want to familiarize yourself with it before starting The Golden Mask. When a game starts off by dropping you in deep water with a great white shark, forcing you to swim for all you're worth as you collect harpoons and a spear gun to fend off said shark which will be chasing you the entire time, and you climb out onto dry land only to immediately be attacked by three snow leopards and half a dozen rolling boulders, that's what your reaction will be.
And all that's before the invisible pikemen show up.
For Tomb Raider veterans, The Golden Mask is a satisfying expansion pack. The first two levels especially are on par with the base game in quality, and they finally figured out how to make combat fun - give Lara some actual room to maneuver. They're also very cinematic - to a fault, almost. The environments are interesting, with Soviet imagery adorning the walls in the first couple of levels, replaced by cave paintings as you venture deeper underground.
Gameplay-wise, though, some of the later parts feel like they had less thought put into their design. One of the puzzles is frustrating enough that solving it through guesswork is as effective as applying actual brainpower, and I got through one of the platforming sections by sheer luck because there's no way in hell the limited camera would let me see where I was going.
However, nitpicks aside, this is a solid set of levels. It nearly matches the base game in quality, and delivers more of the thrilling platforming action that makes this series so rewarding.
There's a super-secret bonus level called Nightmare in Vegas, that you can get by collecting all the secrets. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever be able to access it honestly: the best I can do is YouTube it. 100%ing these games is a pipe dream left to better men and women than I. For me, just getting through this expansion pack with minimal deaths is a matter of pride.
Last May, I played Castle of Illusion for the Sega Genesis: a cute, whimsical and wholly inoffensive platformer. It was very comfortable save-scumming my way through the game with the magic of emulation, talking to a friend and thinking little about the future.
It was one of the last few games I got to play with the comfort and peace of mind that defined that winter for me. While pining for that same kind of ease today, I decided to give the remake a shot - gifted to me by a very dear friend. I'm glad I did. 2013's Castle of Illusion is a delightful platformer that's sure to be a fun romp for children and grown-ups alike.
I love a certain type of video game remake: that which fully modernizes a classic while retaining - or enhancing - its original spirit. Easy examples include the Resident Evil remake, Tomb Raider Anniversary and Yakuza Kiwami. Castle of Illusion is one such remake. The original game already had imaginative designs, but here they've been given new life. The colours are vivid; the backgrounds lively. The gameplay overhaul is superb, incorporating 2.5D and 3D platforming into a balanced, seamless experience that serves as a showcase of what a good platformer is like. And with a wealth of new dialogue, narration and reorchestrated music, the game feels bigger and better than its 1990 counterpart in every way.
All this for an experience that lasts just over 2 hours; this is a very short adventure. In my view, that's a good thing. It keeps the game from wearing out its welcome. Castle of Illusion is not a perfect or even a great game. What it is is a lovely little pick-me-up that served as a source of comfort in a trying time.
Just make sure to get it on sale. Or have a friend who'll gift it to you.
It was one of the last few games I got to play with the comfort and peace of mind that defined that winter for me. While pining for that same kind of ease today, I decided to give the remake a shot - gifted to me by a very dear friend. I'm glad I did. 2013's Castle of Illusion is a delightful platformer that's sure to be a fun romp for children and grown-ups alike.
I love a certain type of video game remake: that which fully modernizes a classic while retaining - or enhancing - its original spirit. Easy examples include the Resident Evil remake, Tomb Raider Anniversary and Yakuza Kiwami. Castle of Illusion is one such remake. The original game already had imaginative designs, but here they've been given new life. The colours are vivid; the backgrounds lively. The gameplay overhaul is superb, incorporating 2.5D and 3D platforming into a balanced, seamless experience that serves as a showcase of what a good platformer is like. And with a wealth of new dialogue, narration and reorchestrated music, the game feels bigger and better than its 1990 counterpart in every way.
All this for an experience that lasts just over 2 hours; this is a very short adventure. In my view, that's a good thing. It keeps the game from wearing out its welcome. Castle of Illusion is not a perfect or even a great game. What it is is a lovely little pick-me-up that served as a source of comfort in a trying time.
Just make sure to get it on sale. Or have a friend who'll gift it to you.