As the second part of the three-game reimagining of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Rebirth is dealt with the carried expectations, risks, and ambitions that its predecessor, Remake, started with. And like Remake, I don’t believe I’m the person to be able to qualify how well it does or doesn’t do that - though I’d also argue that it might be impossible until the trilogy project is completed. It’s equally impossible to also not really start some discussion that this project isn’t simply just a reimagining in name, it’s just as much a tribute, a representation and reflection of the original game’s significance and influence, and very much a continuation of its greater compilation’s story. I tend to call this genre a “rebuild” - e.g. “Rebuild of Evangelion” - and it isn’t a popular one. Personally, I’m fascinated by it, not just due to it being very much an insight into how people - developers, players, history, etc. - see Final Fantasy VII, but because I think, whether or not you believe it succeeds, you have to at least respect the direction of something different in an industry where remake culture tends to be unimpressive high-definition renderings or lesser versions of a similar game. And I’m not saying this strictly as someone who is on board with the project’s direction, though I admit that since the end of Remake, I’ve given it time and, truth be told, my sentiments are of a positive curiosity. One lesson I do think is lost upon many is how Remake both exemplified and stated why it wasn’t necessarily possible to make a one-to-one ratio remake to capture the original game’s experience. This isn’t a statement to say that this series should be exempt from polarized criticism, merely that I think it’s something worth considering in the big picture sense. But I digress, I did like Remake as a game, though I did feel it had some hit or miss elements. I can safely say, after over one-hundred hours, that Rebirth is an incredibly notable improvement as a product even if it doesn’t eliminate all of those issues - but everything Remake succeeded in has been examined, enhanced, and thrives.

The greatest strength this series has thus far is recognizing the characters the best since the original title, as far as capturing and extending their roles. While liberties are taken, many of them seem to mostly extenuate intrigue to how this party should have depths of companionship whilst still reflecting core thematics as identity and the journey on an individual level. Between the tension of Cloud’s unstable mind, Aerith’s conflicted optimism, Barret’s worries about the future, and so on. Between banter and scenes, there has been evident care insofar as characterizations. Admittedly, I do believe the side cast can be hit-or-miss, particularly characters that are found from the extended compilation, though with the focus on the main crew and their journey, this isn’t necessarily an issue.

What makes talking about Rebirth’s storyline is that it’s still reenacting or building upon events of the source material, albeit it’s being done with the expectation that players are familiar with said events already. There’s the obvious dramas of asking how these things are done and, because I prefer to keep these writeups spoiler free, there’s not really an answer I can provide for how I do feel - for the lack of a better word here. What’s equally complicated is how I perceive the relationship between remakes and originals - that a ‘remake’ is either a reimagining with variations or it is an active improvement on the original’s system. It’s evident that they went with the former at this point, but that also makes it intricate for me to say what I fully think given I don’t have the full picture on the narrative changes. What I can say is that, again, in comparison to the original, there are inevitable hits and misses. I’ve already said my piece on the characters and how I adore the new content regarding them. I find the scene directives compelling or at the very least, I approach them with cautious optimism - which is my sentiment on the ending itself. I’ve mostly positive views on Rebirth, I just don’t believe I can fully explain why and be concise - and these writeups are long enough as is.

However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit that there’s two aspects that are definite misses for me: The first is the game’s pacing. While this isn’t Rebirth’s fault exclusively, given that the same issue was in Remake as well, it must be said that many story segments do overstay their welcome even if charming because they incorporate scripted walking segments and interactions. While I’ve seen far worse, it’s noticeable just how many chapters simply have time go by in long stretches. The secondary problem is some tonal dissonance. While this game captures its emotional beats effectively, there are moments where it doesn’t let you breathe and transitions to some emotional whiplash. This can be compounded with a loss of some important thematic subtleties from the original title.

To give one example, take the confrontation between Barret and Dyne. While the scenes and direction still work in their own way, it is inherently inferior because the juxtaposition between Corel Prison and the Gold Saucer has been lost in the setting of where the bout takes place and, even worse, because Shinra forces and Palmer interrupt at the end, transitioning into some slapstick comedy courtesy of the latter right after an emotional climax of one of the game’s prominent leads.

The story aspect aside, the real meat of Rebirth lies in its gameplay and content. The most obvious piece being the open world. I freely admit that I’m not genuinely into this kind of thing, but I can respect it when it engages me. The crux of how Rebirth adapts the world map is by categorizing areas into regions, often in the form of large field-esque design. I’d assert it’s a valid criticism to say that with how the maps work with set icons that it becomes more of a checklist than exploration - and that it can be tedious at a point - yet I think what makes it succeed partially is that the regions differentiate by having traversal options change. Some maps encourage puzzle solving to find set pathways - and rewards for finding them are encouraging. At the very least, this is the first game the series has had in a few years that captures what an ‘adventure’ feels like in regards to exploration. I definitely think it can be done better though. Part of the problem I believe is that it was a mistake to have worldbuilding done through Chadley, in part because it becomes a data exposition task instead of setting immersion because, even with the changes between environments, you are still activating the same towers, finding the same icons, etc. with small permutations. This isn’t a negative, it’s just something that could stand for some improvement, as the map layouts are still distinct. On a small scale, dungeons are well-made for their mob sections and occasional puzzle-solving, though nothing exceptional - and some, despite their quality, are an exercise in time.

In regards to content itself, there is an abundance here. Sidequests have inventory incentives for completion despite their fetch-quest attributes, though the character interactions make them more endearing. The protorelic substory in particular involves the eccentric series stape Gilgamesh and some of the title’s better minigames. As for minigames themselves, it is certifiably impressive how almost all of them are refined, though, like many things, I’d definitely say being forced to complete so many in the main story hurts the pacing. And even outside of that, it can be excessive just how much there is. Still, the systems implemented here in some of them, particularly Queen’s Blood - which they really want you to play - indicate the developers wanted these to be enjoyable.

However, what I would say is Rebirth’s greatest achievement mechanically is the combat system. Remake introduced a real-time action-based approach to the series’ ATB systems, giving players specific character combat to encourage proactivity for meter management whilst heavily encouraging team-based strategy by switching members and customizing them to handle various scenarios. Personally, I felt that these ideas worked though the two issues lied in how much wait time there was between ATB usage and how enemies often felt like static figurines. Suffice it to say, Rebirth not only addresses that, it also asks, “Why fix what isn’t broken?” and builds upon it.

The single best change is the incorporation of the synergy abilities, split between shortcut-based instant commands specific to the controlled party members or the special menu-based paired moves that can affect player options - such as giving temporarily unlimited MP. To simplify why these things are significant, if ATB meter was built through character actions, then there needed to be fixtures both offensively and defensively. Furthermore, while teamwork was prevalent in Remake, these abilities encourage it more than before as special synergy abilities can only be done when a set amount of player skills are used by both characters. Secondly, useful tech, such as shortcut synergy commands, will teleport characters across the field to another, allowing you to manipulate positional advantages, while building meter. There’s even unspoken benefits, such as switching to another character while guarding with another - and this will instantly teleport your new party member to the locked on enemy. If proactivity is rewarded, then adding more ways to do so is a good thing. Other specific combat improvements include implementing perfect guards, more active attack input bufferings, more accessible aerial options (which was missing in Remake), additional ATB abilities that expand movesets, and adding ranged moves for melee characters to use. And, even if you don’t wish to experiment with a full time, the game does offer enough options for you to stick to one character provided you understand the systems here,

To counterbalance so many changes, there’s been modifications to the enemy design, namely as far as managing their stagger meter. While said meters have become a commodity in the franchise the last decade, this trilogy has been on the stronger side of handling them for my money. The greatest reason why is influences players have on ‘pressuring’ enemies, creating a state where enemies can be vulnerable to hitstun or exposed to easier stagger. While many of Remake’s pressure states were made through basic elemental weaknesses or excessive damage, Rebirth adds new routes: from effective guards, to damaged body parts, to scripted patterns. Normal enemies in Remake often could feel like regular statues, though that doesn’t feel like the case with the re-tuning. Of course, this means enemies themselves also have new tricks, from playing with environmental attacks to being able to temporarily remove party members. Some enemies will even change attacks according to their aggro or successful hits. All of this applies even more to bosses because, like Remake, this is where the combat truly shines. Bosses truly bring out the strategical side of the game, having the teeth to punish players who want to treat this as another action RPG. Remake’s major encounters enforced the notion that playing like that isn’t how you maximize your success nor your enjoyment - and Rebirth enforces this more than ever. You’ll need to pay attention to enemy patterns, specific weaknesses, allocate according to the team lineup - and methodically reverse the intensity placed on you to take them out. Hard mode and the simulator challenges take this to the next level as crutches like items are taken away - your resources must be managed through your build to be ready for enemy encounters even in endurance-based sections. The fact that, even in weaker encounters, every fight offers so much variety in a relationship of lineups between party and mobs means this an impressive leap in enemy design for my money.

It’s a testament to how much this game has that I cannot talk the playable characters in much depth, so some general comments:
-Cloud’s counter-based offense remains as useful for an aggressive melee fighter, though Prime Mode and charged-based synergy skills add quicker routes for high damage without needing to stagger or use braver/infinity’s end. Buffs to Punisher Mode’s combo length and his long range attacks give answers he didn’t prior.
-Barrett’s status as the party tank is maintained, though his melee options expand through AoEs with smackdown or his long-ranged options get more buffs with Bonus Rounds.
-Tifa maintains her status as my favorite to play and remains mostly unchanged. Her melee options still deal with rushdowns to build stagger and quick meter for buff-based offensive combos. Her combo options and damage output through Unfettered Fury only expands her role as the speed-based melee fighter.
-Aerith’s ability to teleport between wards and craft barriers always made her an unbelievable support member, though her own offense was conducted through magic that was difficult to build meter for. Her new abilities make her arguably the strongest character in the game, as Radiant Ward turns her into a weapon of mass destruction (whilst making spells casted uninterrupted) and Transcendence, one of the most devastating tools in the game.
-Red XIII’s gameplay is a mix of support between managing his Vengeance Gauge’s unique specialties and elemental-based melee skills. Managing Red’s moveset, I found, was conducted upon recognizing how his defense and health operated accordingly. Reaper’s Touch, for instance, is a desperation skill only available at critical health, yet Nanaki’s Vengeance Gauge is handled around recovering vitality if need be.
-Yuffie is, frankly, cracked. She is easily the most versatile character of the entire game, having numerous recovery offensive options to escape getting stunlocked, active buffs and assists to keep freeflowing in battle, and easy access to magic without consuming meter. Between Aerith and her I really don’t know who is more powerful - in combination, they’re absurd.
-Cait Sith’s style is based around managing the Moogle’s quirky offense and Cait’s RNG-gambles. I admit I haven’t quite figured him out compared to the others, but being able to separate from the Moogle to create a decoy, actively increase teammate stats, or trade between long-and-short range abilities makes Cait Sith surprisingly more than just a luck-indicative character.

At risk of making this writeup any longer, I want to stop here. Final Fantasy VII Rebirth is an incredibly ambitious game, given some burden of legacy to navigate that, again, would require more time to discuss than I’m willing to give time here. There’s certainly inconsistencies in its final result, including a pacing issue across the entire board that makes me unsure how many non-RPG players it would be for. It’s for that reason that I think for others, it’s whatever you want to make of it. For me, I committed over one hundred hours to this title - and I simply don’t do that often. I can call this game an experience I won’t forget, conflicted feelings or not beyond what I expressed here - just the fact that I enjoyed my time and that it’s remained fresh in my mind means I will be back for the third part regardless.

To jump ahead, I’m not sure what to fully make of my feelings for this game and write this with some lack of confidence admittedly. On one hand, I feel that Relink’s incorporation of multiple genres crafts its own identity maximized by a consistently fun feedback loop with a variety of characters to make your own engagements out of. On the other hand, I do not necessarily think this game even comes close to capitalizing upon all of its promises - that a series of imbalances in particular lower the game’s ceiling on the quality scale. A video I saw recently called this title more “interesting” than the sum of its parts. I feel that’s an incredibly fair descriptor of the experience given that the actual sum of the parts are not really achieved, though this title’s core combat’s focus manages to succeed in spite of there being much better.

With over a dozen characters with differentiating styles, players have a number of options, from from ranged characters who can chain AOE explosions behind sniper attacks, to characters’ whose successful offenses buffs and enhances their attack options and qualities, to those who can create jump-canceling or parries to stay close. The choice is ultimately yours, though between dodge offsets, skill cancels, and so on - there’s a lot to enjoy here. The premise of the combat is built around dealing as much damage as possible, encouraging proactivity to learn your character's tools for the best, most efficient styles. Building gauges for being able to lock enemies down with effective crowd control until you can beat them down by recognizing the synergy between link time and skybound artes. The addition of party mechanics adds depth to how you want to achieve the aforementioned efficiency like any team-based game (this becomes especially significant in multiplayer). Do you have adequate support members who are not liabilities to keep that crowd control going?

Speaking of enemies, I would say it’s functional. Whilst main enemies have gimmicks, there isn’t too much to them - the real meat is the boss fights, which combine elements of action RPGs and MMO raids. There’s spectacle, mostly in narrative, though the fights prove to be dynamic and at least ask for attention to how their moves work. Whilst the bosses utilize superarmor, bodily parts are affected by a stagger meter and vulnerability to status effects don’t leave these fights as unflinching walls. Every fight has a gimmick too, ranging from weak points to how the arena can change. The bosses’ “mode” meter adds some demand for the player to consider how the fights can dynamically change when the boss enters its overdrive mode and becomes significantly more dangerous. Granted, the game doesn’t compromise its premise: that depleting the overdrive meter staggers the boss completely for the party to unleash on them - again, proactivity matters. If anything else, the bosses are where the game shines and is likely the key focus.

Unfortunately, they are easily complicit in the game’s underlying problem for me. Said problem stems from the fact that this game’s emphasis on DPS for both the player and the boss creates an imbalance problem. Simply put, the player has almost too funny ways to be safe. Between perfect dodges creating invincibility, upgraded guards being incredibly difficult to break, an assortment of healing items, skills to buff or grant invincibility, and being able to revive constantly (albeit with some limit), there’s too much given for margin of error to matter. While button mashing will not get you far, the fact that it’s genuinely hard to be punished or even getting a game over is a definite issue. To rephrase, you are given too many safe options that, even when you aren’t playing safe, it isn’t a big deal. This excessiveness compounds to mean that threats are only a problem if the damage dealt is significant or the DPS checks the bosses throw at you. And only the latter is capable of causing instant game overs without the revival crutch. I don’t personally have an issue with DPS checks but when it becomes the main threat by an enormous margin, I would assert that there’s a lack of balance here.

This becomes even more problematic with the infamous postgame grind, by far the worst part of the game for its tedium. The issue isn’t that the player needs to get stronger to take on the hardest challenges the title can throw at you, it’s that it actively has RNG-based ways to achieve the items and stats you need. The simple rule with grinding in RPGs is that, if forced to grind when the player’s skills cannot make up for the difference, it needs to be practical. Yet, there’s little enjoyment in needing to spend a disproportionate amount of hours looking for items that have some percentage chance of dropping instead of getting to lab the characters. To be completely transparent, after 40 hours of total play time, I realized that it would take double that to get what I needed and it just simply wasn’t worth it. Only a friend’s copy allowed me to experience the ultimate challenges - and he had to dedicate an absurd amount of time to even unlock or be able to tackle them - which likely explains why many are playing these challenges on solo or multiplayer. When you also consider the different categories of weapons, accessories and characters themselves - and how everything requires manually working to get them to the right levels. I’m not saying that it’s unacceptable that a game has to make me work to achieve my goals, but, at some point, the priorities and time given has to be given some consideration.

I don’t want those criticisms to hide the fact that I genuinely had a blast playing this game however - and still do. I think, whether it’s due to a mishmash of genre or the compound of imbalanced ideas, that this game just doesn’t reach the heights that it could. For that reason, many things about it just aren’t my thing as a player - and it probably won’t be for everyone either.

Whether or not I’ve said anything disagreeable here or not though, I will say the one thing we can all agree upon is that the composers were on crack for this soundtrack.

As this title is one of my most treasured, I would rather keep the following succinct compared to my usual lack of brevity.

What makes Final Fantasy’s sixth mainline installment so special is that, while it does not reach the mechanical complexity of the previous title’s job system, it doesn’t come across as a downgrade. Armed with an ensemble cast of misfits, tragedies, and aspirations, the playable characters of Final Fantasy VI distinguish themselves with their special abilities to complement that it’s not simply a leading individual’s story - this is a journey for everyone just as it is for the player’s expression.

The first half of the game mixes and matches the party lineups to indoctrinate players into the creativity that the second half opens up, yet that doesn’t mean that there is never not open-ended actions that can be taken. Final Fantasy’s ATB system is as strong as it could be here - and, with effective stratagem or experimentative initiative - the party is only as strong as the player’s willingness to see all it has to offer. This is far from the hardest game in the series; in fact, Final Fantasy VI is not difficult at all, yet there are certain roadblocks, such as the defense of Narshe, The Ultima Weapon, and so on - that demand that you pay attention. An effective strategy game rewards that, but it also gives you the tools to think outside the box if you act upon that, leading to discoveries, namely certain vulnerabilities to status effects or instant kills. Your expressiveness ties into the aforementioned demands of the game so much so that it feels natural.

The depth of the game’s thematics is absolutely astonishing, reveling in the human condition as its crux. Final Fantasy VI is a celebration of life - the way each person finds his or her own self-actualized value - and a rejection of nihilism. The interpretative potential this game opens up is only reinforced by perhaps the greatest antagonist the series has ever produced, an absolute man-made monster whose transcendence makes for the perfect juxtaposition to the ensemble cast. Final Fantasy VI is about togetherness to endure it all - and they prove it the entire way to one of the most astonishing finales in the history of the genre.

This game is a masterpiece. And, to yours truly, it’s the kind of title that timelessly stays dear.

Yakuza 0 is considered one of the greatest achievements of Ryu Go Gotaku’s resume, a stellar masterpiece built upon thematics of money and identity and the beat-em-up sandbox mixing pot their games are known for. Setting the stage with a series’ prequel is no easy task, let alone the focus on alternating plot scenarios of a young Kazuma Kiryu and Goro Majima, though Yakuza 0 handled it brilliantly. The combat itself was, if nothing else, an excellent reinterpretation of movesets, what with both characters still having tools from many of the previous titles, but with their own distinct styles to switch combat up - maximized by some of the strongest enemy design the series has seen. Yakuza Kiwami, a remake of the original Yakuza, found itself utilizing the same assets of 0 with the intent to build upon them and the chance to capitalize upon many of the same strength to enhance that original game. While I cannot actually comment on the first Yakuza PS2 entry, from what I’ve been told, it’s an experience that does surpass said title, at least mechanically.

To be frank, I don’t exactly have much to talk about in regards to the narrative. As far as complexity, it’s the game that technically introduces you to Kiryu and the early relationships that made and will make him as the series progresses. Kiwami’s greatest investment lies in using 0’s established story beats with Nishikiyama to explain his downfall into such a personal enemy - thereby making his character more interesting and the climactic battle between them all the more memorable. I don’t really have much to say in the way of Kiwami’s plot past this if I’m being honest.

The real crux lies in Kiwami’s gameplay which takes Kiryu’s moveset from 0 and takes it to the next level. While Kiryu’s styles in 0 had different properties, Kiwami’s system enforced ways to make switching between them more streamlined and pragmatic. Upgrades allow Kiryu to cancel his moves and styles into one another on the fly even while quickstepping, finishing one combo, and so on. With the series’ ever-present variety of grabs, players are given more ways to chain offense together than 0 ever allowed. The distinction of the regular heat meter and climax heat meter also enforce proactive, aggressive play to let players use their most powerful options. Climax heat mode actions in particular can demolish enemies, such as Rush’s Godspeed, and push Kiryu’s aforementioned offensive capacity to its maximum. The combat, once it hits its stride, may rival Lost Judgment’s for the best the series has created while still being different enough from that game’s.

While Kiryu’s three main styles alone offer enough, a fourth style, Dragon, takes Kiryu’s main moveset from other titles and locks it up for completionist sake - and for good reason, seeing as Dragon Style alone is versatile enough to handle just about every fight in the game on its own. It’s as fast as Rush, has many of the powerful hits of Brawler, and grab variety to match Beast. And, even better, Dragon’s heat meter seems to be already in climax heat as opposed to needing to build. High-level players will even take advantage of this facet to chain Rush styles’ Godspeed ability to stun-lock bosses into the longest possible combos.

Seeing as I’ve written how most enemy design works in RGG games, there’s really not that much difference here, as the same rules apply. Likewise, with side content. The only real unique feature of Kiwami is the Majima Everywhere System, which is the primary means for Kiryu to unlock the Dragon Style’s abilities by encountering Majima all over Kamurocho. Essentially, all of the bouts with Majima are boss fights regulated as encounters. You don’t have to engage or even win all of them, though doing so and winning can earn an enormous amount of experience to keep upgrading Kiryu and make the fights easier - as Majima is never a pushover. The interactions themselves establish Majima as more of a friendly, incredibly eccentric rival (with hints about his real nature you see from 0) than an inconvenient enemy and the bouts themselves take his styles from 0 into some formalized boss moveset. At the very least, it ensures that there are rewards for interacting here. The only downside to Majima Everywhere is that its own excessiveness means that, should you meet Majima in the main scenario, those encounters lose some of their unique flavor because you’re likely to have fought Majima so much already.

This is all to say that, at least from a combat perspective, Yakuza Kiwami seems like, for all intents and purposes, a superior game to Yakuza 0, right? The answer is: Kind of. Because while the core combat is improved, there’s one actual problem that holds Kiwami back: The vast majority of its bosses have questionable design choices.

RGG bosses typically operate like normally enemies do, but the main mechanical difference is that they have built-in AI tools to stop players from running over them, such as their own quicksteps, grabs, or even denying grabs themselves. They will always enter a second, buffed phase, signified by their own heat aura to indicate some moveset additions or new resistances. Being aware of and adapting to these changes is key to handling these fights, yet Kiwami has a certain trick with its bosses: the storyline bosses cannot be knocked down by heavy attack finishers. There are workarounds, such as chaining hit-to-grab attacks or heat actions to ground them, but this changes the approach in one critical way: The focus becomes trying to get to their backsides to set up stun-loop combos to avoid counters or key in on when the boss can break out of the combo. Therefore, knockdown nullification is technically not the issue - the actual problem is that there are fewer equalizers than there should be. To rephrase, because bosses can deny grabs at certain thresholds (note: this part is fine, players need to defeat them without cheese strats) or there being limited moves that actually can ground them, many of the game’s most creative features are denied to players. This is especially strange as the Colosseum provides its own boss encounters and several of them have comparable traits to storyline fights, yet all of them can be knocked down whilst still maintaining punishments for inattentive players.

To be honest, I actually don’t think this is too much of an issue because there are still genuinely great ebbs-and-flows to the bosses, such as Majima, Lau Ka Long, and especially the final brawl with Nishikiyama (which manages to be one of the best fights of the series), but where this does become a problem is when the bosses include mobs or obtuse gimmicks. Here are some examples (AKA time for ranting):
-Futoshi Shimano has permanent hyperarmor. In a game where being able to stun enemies to control their positioning is key, it’s a bizarre oversight to have a boss where you have to play hit/run. What’s even more confusing is that this is an early game boss, meaning, many of the counters don’t even exist yet, especially when this boss has an absurd amount of health. I still maintain it's possible to create interesting boss fights with super/hyperarmor, though this one isn’t one of them.
-Koji Shindo wields a sword. While RGG games are adamant about teaching players crowd control versus armed enemies who can hurt you behind your guard and cause instant knockdown, the problem with Shindo is that he isn’t just alone with a mob of other blade-users, it’s in as small an arena as possible. So, even with quicksteps to get out of dodge, you’ll be running into some element of RNG from the range and stunlocked chip damage these bosses can do.
-The Akai Brothers give an enormous amount of space for you to work with, but the elder brother has a grounded counter spin attack in case you even get him grounded that is only punishable with set moves, such as Tiger Drop. While it’s fine that a boss can have a grounded counter, having it immediately come out upon being set to the ground is a strange decision seeing as you’re already working towards getting them there in limited ways in the first place.
-The worst of all is Kyohei Jingu, who spends the whole fight staying away from you throwing explosives with an inconsistent hitbox radius and is accompanied by two elite soldiers, whom are also bosses. All three hold firearms with incredibly short-frame timing on when they fire - and can even fire right after another, sometimes offscreen where you can’t even see them. Trying to attack Jingu results in his guards instantly entering heat mode; attempting to even fight toe-to-toe with the guards will get punished. That is, in a game that encourages aggression, you have to play a tedious hit-and-run strategy against artificial difficulty. Maybe there’s a way to enjoy this fight, I just can’t see it at the moment.

I want to emphasize that, despite this issue, Yakuza Kiwami is still an excellent game. The combat speaks for itself and the vast majority of the time spent is still worthwhile. I suspect it’s probably a game that’s better replayed with a decked-out Kiryu. I’m currently not incentivized to find that out, but I can recommend Yakuza Kiwami if you enjoy other titles of the series. There are few frustrations along the way - it’s very much a step forward, step back kind of game - but I think it’s indicative of RGG’s resume.

Upon completing Lost Judgment, my immediate thought was that this was a video game made for me. While the original Judgment was its own enjoyable ride, I reached the end of the trek only to look back on a mixed journey, curbed by some mechanical imbalances but steady enough with an investing story and acceptable combat. The sequel doesn’t just address these issues, it looked at everything done well and said, “We can try to top that.” The result is a serious candidate for my favorite title played this year; a game that emphasizes Rya Ga Gotuku Studio’s understanding of asset reuse and their growth as developers. Yes, I am calling Lost Judgment a legitimate masterwork.

While character-driven narratives are a core aspect of the franchise, Lost Judgment’s story is billed from the opening screen to be a more delicate topical. Lost Judgment deals with the difficulties adolescent youth face - and the extenuating responsibilities and failures of the adult world to address them. To be upfront, it’s ultimately impossible for me to have what feels like a measured take of the writing here, given it’s a matter that is incredibly close to my personal and professional experiences. But I will say this: in media depictions reflective of everyday circumstances, children are often dismissed as inconveniences that adults have to indoctrinate into society - nobody tries to understand the inherent value of a relationship between youth and their mentors. Lost Judgment pulls zero punches as far as showing how hard it is to be a kid, between the struggles of finding self-identity to the traumatic mistreatment at the hands of bullying - the latter of which being an essential topic here. There’s a level of respect taken here that’s so endearing, and it’s more prevalent as far as how the adult roles are portrayed. Children actively impact adult lives and vice versa - Lost Judgment emphasizes how valuable your time as an adolescent is and how mentor figures matter here. Detective Takayuki Yagami was shown to be a book-smart, determined investigator with a drive for earnest humanity and truth in Judgment, but here, through the students of Seiryo High, we’re shown a man who can live vicariously to give the students the adolescent joys he didn’t get to while being someone who values, respects, and listens to them. Greater society is often indifferent to children, but the plot, whether it be through a miraculously-conceived antagonist or the aforementioned interactions with youth, demonstrates how institutions fail and can succeed with children. With complex moral questions added that really embody how change is needed without right answers being in sight, nothing feels meaningless in the grand scheme of the writing. I feel it’s unfair to compare this game’s story to its predecessor, namely that the priorities are so different, yet I can say they match each other for my money.

But where Lost Judgment blows away the original is in its combat. The original Judgment, to paraphrase, was a functional beat 'em up offset by some weaknesses, namely, how one of Yagami’s two styles was superior, and how encounter design relied upon mobs with some inconsistent superarmor than diverse variety. Lost Judgment is the game that Judgment could have been from a combat standpoint, taking all of Yagami’s movesets, adding new skills, and redefining old successes. I’ve read how many can call this game a culmination of RGG Studio’s lessons about making strong gameplay feedback loops and, while my experience is limited to only three games of the series, it certainly feels like this statement is the case.

Previously, Yagami’s crane style was useful for its speed and multi-targeting attacks, but it lacked core components that tiger style could on its own, namely catered around building meter and being able to guard break consistently. Now, crane is virtually unrecognizable from what it was prior: it maximizes Yagami’s agility to its max. The sky dancer ability gives an alternate dodge that introduces new aerial attacks, though successfully pulling off a perfect dodge adds speed buff to Yagami, turning him into a whirlwind flurry of arcing attacks smashing into entire crowds at mach speeds. Comparatively, tiger remains mostly the same, but this still caters to its strengths, being a more offensive approach. The emphasis upon chaining charge attacks and combo finishers is rewarded with an attack boost buff and there are more counters Yagami can launch off blocking - thereby making it the ideal one-on-one tool for aggressive players who want to deal damage. But Lost Judgment upps the ante with a third style, snake, which revolves entirely around grabs and parries. The RGG games are known for using grabs to some effect, but snake takes that to the next level: like tiger, snake emphasizes staying in proximity, but redirecting enemies into bad positions or throwing them into one another - a way to stay aggressive while being defensive. A perfect parry can buff Yagami with additional poise, making it harder to stagger, let alone drop, him. It says a lot that each of these styles feel distinct enough situationally, yet versatile enough that not a single one doesn’t have some answer for any scenario. It ultimately is up to player for how they weaponize each one - and the more skills unlocked, the more creative they can be. By the end, I could say not a single style actually felt better than another - and I think that was essential to nail down.

(Note that there is a style behind DLC that I have not played with called “Boxer”.)

What takes all of this to the next level is that you can switch between any style whenever you want, even mid-combo. While the juggling tech in Judgment was resigned to a small assortment of combos, numerous new launchers allow players to keep enemies locked in beatdowns for extended periods more than ever. Juggling isn’t necessarily even the main approach for handling enemies - and finding those moves to make and maintain them raises the skill ceiling. What’s even better is that the aforementioned buffs each style gets can carry over as the player style switches once fully upgraded, thereby leading to even more chains players can use to beat down enemies. That’s the thing that gets me about Lost Judgment’s combat: everything has some benefit on its own, but the synergy between it all leads to a constant stream of momentum. The only real change I’d make is allowing players to customize the order they let Yagami switch styles but this feels like an obsolete nitpick because switching styles mid-combat pauses the entire screen until the switch is done.

The enemy design has also received a change or two: While many of the key tenets of RGG’s foes still show here - vulnerable to all tools, have some grabs, variety, open to environmental collisions - the most noticeable addition is the sheer size of the mob battles. While Judgment was no stranger to numerous foes swarming the rooms, Lost Judgment ups the ante regardless of how the room layout because Yagami’s improved defense and mobility means he can afford to take on - and blow through - more of them. This means the game is willing to include mini-bosses to try and make you work for victory. At least, they aren’t bloated HP sponges with inconsistent superarmor like Judgment had. Certain moves can still and will break superarmor down for regular moves to work - you just have to pay attention to which finishers in your combos can pull that off. Deadly attacks return, only they’re given a counter done by a well-timed dodge to turn the tide, but only in proximity and at the risk of a game over if you don’t pay attention. Just hope these sturdier enemies don’t have firearms - because you can’t grapple away weapons from them for some reason.

I think the point on boss-like thugs being supported with lackeys being better still runs the risk of falling into an issue I had with Judgment: at some point, bosses accompanied by regular enemies either bloats the encounter into a messy affair or are hiding how the boss lacks an interesting moveset - especially if the boss is an HP-sponge. Fortunately, Lost Judgment, while still having some recurring leftover habits here, does away with this by making major fights either solo affairs and having more fleshed out moves than ever. From the grab-centric physicality of Akutsu to the angry overhand swings of Detective Watanabe, the bosses become more distinct with their movesets, but, if they are accompanied by mobs, it’s noticeably not the cluster that led you to fall into unescapable attacks. Moreover, the bosses that are in 1v1 settings are the peak of the game and, fortunately, the two standouts of the game, Soma and Kuwana, play into everything an RGG boss should be. Soma’s defensive, parry-based style reinforces creative offense from players more than just about any other opponent in the game. I’ll, comparatively, keep details on Kuwana to myself, but he may well be the best mechanical boss the series has produced at this point.

There’s really only one debatable thing Judgment rivals Lost Judgment on - and it’s its final boss quality, but otherwise, there’s no contest on which game’s combat works more. The latter is one of the best I’ve played of any action game release in the last five years, period.

The fact that there’s still all of the available side content is just an added bonus, but side activities feel more rewarding. Minigames are spaced between genres through the many school-associated clubs Yagami investigates in a side plot, ranging from rhythm dancing to a surprisingly-fleshed out boxing-based versus mode. You don’t have to do any of these and some are better than others - the robotics club is catered towards players who like strategy and builds - but you have to appreciate the sheer amount of variety at play. Narratively-speaking, because some of Yagami’s characterization is built into enriching the lives of the students he interacts with, there’s ultimately no better way to do it than interacting with these clubs and solving their problems - further reinforcing how yes, youth do have relevant issues that adults can help with. And even then, the same side missions are available in some excess, ranging from the bizarrely chivalrous to the most roundabout-absurdity, there’s a lot to do between Kamurocho and Ijincho.

There’s genuinely so much more to say about this one, but I’d say, in encapsulation, that seeing Lost Judgment as an extension and improvement of its predecessor is all that really needs to be emphasized. It’s rare to find many developers who take the care to craft a product with experimental aspects balanced by feedback they receive from players, but that’s something Rya Ga Gotuku Studio continually does. Lost Judgment is a fantastic game, now among one of my favorites, and I really could go on about how it is a title, from intriguing start to an all-timer endgame, that I’ll remember so much that I can’t wait to replay.

I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t the most keen on God of War (2018). While I respect any developer for attempting changes and I think the title itself offers some intrigue as far as an action game could have, I have to admit I’ve tried to enjoy that game more than I actually have. This wasn’t to say that I found the game in a negative light, merely that it had many aspects that aren’t to my tastes. I respected that the game built an interesting character-focused dynamic between a remorseful Kratos, once deconstructed as an archetype of Greek mythos, and his naive, developing son and how they played off of another, but the plot had an enormous amount of meandering that hurt my interest. The core combat, while decent behind juggling mechanics, equally didn’t succeed in holding my attention outside of a few encounters. Enemy design in particular felt offset by the game’s RPG mechanics - said RPG customizations felt more arbitrary additions than engaging decision making - and became repetitive. While the clashes with Baldur, Thor’s sons, and the superboss fight against the Valkyrie Queen Sigrun were thrilling, I finished each of my experiences feeling disappointment.

I’m happy to say that its sequel, God of War Ragnarok, was a substantially more rewarding time for me. The idea behind Ragnarok is best deemed escalation - that is, more of everything. The story is built more into the action - and said action manifests in events, encounters, and a genuinely improved, fantastic combat system.

While I’m never going to be keen on how the Norse duology has handled its camera, the amount of things you can do has increased. The axe in God of War (2018) had its uses between heavy attacks and wall pins, but newfound ways to activate permafrost buffs and grabs are vastly superior to a weapon that previously felt mostly as a heavy weapon beforehand. The blades’ tethering runic ability becoming a regular tool to launch enemies to and from Kratos is one of the greatest boons to the system, substantially involving crowd control in ways the Greek trilogy nurtured. The newest melee weapon, the spear, is the perfect poise breaker and a fantastic launch tool (it can even absorb enemy statuses), whilst offering ranged, high-velocity utility in ways the other weapons never did. The types of shields Kratos can equip play into his defensive options to conduct greater initiative on the offensive. While some, like the shatter star, end up becoming more practical, each shield has a different strength, whether it be a focus on guard breaks, easier timing for parries, et cetera - you have your options. The weapon-switching is noticeably faster than the original, allowing for transitions between weapons on the regular, albeit with the caveat that you’re quick enough when stunlocking the enemy or in the right position to use do so. Kratos’ berserk mode in Spartan Rage returns, but the game adds two variations: Valor, which can be used to restore health, or wrath, where Kratos uses his equipped weapon for a devastating blow to enemy vitality. While the runics don’t remain my favorite implementation of power attacks with cooldowns, I can at least understand their recovery is tied to dealing significant damage or offering temporary invincibility at the player’s discretion.

One of the greatest improvements lies in how playing creativity is incentivized and balanced with an upgrade on encounter design. I brought up some such as tethering with the blades, but the environmental layouts compared to God of War (2018) is night-and-day. Adding verticality for players to get out of dodge or jump back into the fray with a leaping power attack off a jump makes the combat more dynamic than before. Ringouts and wallsplats are equally viable for isolating threatening enemies and beating them down.

Speaking of enemies, while the previous entry’s rogue gallery makes returns to benefit from the better combat, newer foes up the ante. Einherjar are the particular standouts, weaponizing status abilities of their own - via bifrost - and offering threats in just about any phase of the fight. With arena changes leads to greater demands and these enemies demonstrate that at its best. The best mobs of this game involve the Einherjar and some of those encounters I found myself having comparable fun to the better ones in the God of Wars of old. The rest of the game’s bestiary doesn’t quite match them in my view, though I do enjoy how enemies like grims use the newfound verticality themselves. My only real issue with the enemy design is how some enemies, such as captains, travelers, or ogres, end up being sturdy-superarmor chip-damage sponges that hurt their own interactivity (i.e. the traveler has a reflective shield, why is he so opposed to hitstun?). It’s even stranger to me when you consider how the bosses handle being staggered - more on that in a bit. At least with certain sturdy enemies, I can understand why they’re tough to force you into using ranged tools to wear down their stun gauge or avoid their elemental attacks - I may well be missing something with them, but I can’t say.

I digress, God of War is a series known for its multi-staged boss battles, usually a mixture of puzzle-solving gimmicks or intense action that stands with the best of the genre. While I can admit that the 2018 release had some good ones (not the trolls, don’t worry), I found myself wanting more. I’m happy to say Ragnarok more than delivered this, each bout feeling unique and engaging. While there are some optional bouts that incorporate superarmored buffed enemies that I’d call less than enjoyable, the mandatory story battles and the postgame challenges I have faced so far have been thrilling to say the least. Humanoid bosses don’t stagger from every hit, rather, they have set openings where countering them (i.e. parrying or attacking after dodging) allows you to combo them. Even then, Ragnarok has several attacks that will guarantee a stagger on them regardless as your opponents launch mixups of their own to keep you attentive. Thor sets a strong impression early by teaching you how they work - he even has a moveset inspired to work like Kratos with the axe - his patterns changing whether or not his weapon is handy or not. Non-humanoid bosses tend to have more scripted patterns, but they aren’t simply spectacle - Garm in particular makes you think about attacking selective weak spots or considering stepping in on his chain slams. Giant bosses will even temporarily be open to being combo’d themselves if you time a select move carefully or deal enough damage to break their poise. The game saves the best for last with its finale fight - whereupon all the above rules apply, but the boss in question forces you to make use of your full arsenal and initiative. At the end of the day, I’d ascertain Ragnarok did the series proud with its boss design.

The roundabout way of saying this is, yes, I was fairly pleased with how much more fun and rewarding this one felt to play.

I have to be frank though: Ragnarok’s greatest problem is that it’s also very much in trend with modern gaming. That is, it includes aspects that I fundamentally do not believe should be in a game without some caveat. I’m of course, referring to the numerous, lengthy walk-and-talk sections. While its prequel pulled the same feature, it’s far worse here. The Ironwood section in particular, by my estimate, only held maybe a half-hour of actual gameplay between forced, unskippable interactive walking sections in a two-hour period. And there’s many others, albeit not as egregious. I understand the desire to immerse players in the story and there’s almost certainly an audience that will like these moments, but this simply isn’t the way to do it, especially because many are here for the action-centric gameplay and these sections completely undermine the pacing and replay value with their abundance and excessiveness. To summarize, in a game that’s average length is potentially forty hours, these sorts of things bloat the experience into a disengaging slog - and that goes double for people who want to get right into the actual playing.

I admittedly find myself torn on how to talk about Ragnarok’s narrative because the issues I’ve found or that others have expressed are a by-product of God of War (2018)’s own approach. 2018, you see, chose a character relationship-focused narrative as its core, which meant that the story wasn’t a dynamic one. Note that this isn’t principally a bad idea, but it meant that, even with some worldbuilding done throughout, the onus was on Ragnarok to pick up those pieces. As for whether or not it did deliver, I’ve come to believe that’s contingent upon your preferences. Therefore, I’ll speak from my own sentiments:

In regards to developing Kratos and Atreus as characters, Ragnarok at the very least crafts ways they’ve bonded with another and their views of the world around them in organic fashion. Other members of the cast feel hit-or-miss to me depending upon who we’re talking about, but I have a particular fondness for Odin’s manipulative, yet subtly pathetic portrayal of a man who has it all, but doesn’t feel it's ever enough. I do believe there’s not really a major character whose presence feels obsolete as far as contributing to the plot. That said, I’m not too sure what to make of the story’s pacing because, while it's a byproduct of God of War (2018) like I said, I think it shares a similar issue I had to that game’s story - just from a different directionality.

I’ve read accounts from people who believe the Norse saga should have been a trilogy because too much has to be put in Ragnarok, resulting in rushed pacing, yet I’m honestly of the opposite opinion: I personally believe Ragnarok’s narrative has an enormous amount of repetition in its conversations as some contrivances periodically appear. Part of that ties into the aforementioned bloated structure of the gameplay, yet it's noticeable just how much time is traveling between locations without things happening. I think the indecisiveness of the cast is understandable as far as reflecting the thematics of maintaining agency regardless of prophecy, yet I couldn’t shake my feeling throughout that, even when the action ramped up, it sometimes felt artificial or that it was often being crafted for the sake of moments than actual developments. I want to be clear though, I do find the plot decently written, but, like the gameplay, I think its problem therein lies in the pacing - because, make no mistake, I think the good is exactly that, yet there’s just an amount of meandering enough that I was left wanting more. Even the finale, which was stellar on all levels, gave me a moment where I was scratching my head for a bit. There’s a point that I’m being unfair - I probably am - but I just have to be honest.

There’s a number of other things about this game that carries over as problems that weren’t really fixed from 2018, such as the RPG system still feeling arbitrary (albeit I do think it’s better because I didn’t notice the level imbalance nearly to the same extent) or puzzles becoming handheld kindergarten activities between exploration that I find mostly superfluous. However, I can safely sit here and, for the first time in awhile, confess that I had a great time with a newer God of War game. I wrote earlier on that God of War Ragnarok was an escalation - and that manifests quite a bit. It is certifiably a better game than the last one, in spite of being its own worst enemy by doubling down on some of the same bad habits. I wish I wasn’t burnt out enough to play around with the postgame content; on the other hand, maybe I’ll give it a go sooner than later.

A few years ago, I played Rya Ga Gotaku Studio’s Yakuza 0, a title I can say with confidence hit most of the marks for me. Since then, I’ve been itching to tackle the rest of the Like a Dragon series, only to be led towards other endeavors. In any case though, Judgment wasn’t the entry I expected to end up in queue, though a friend covering the series was incredibly enthusiastic about its sequel to an extent that I saw the spin-off duology as an easy reentry.

My experience with Judgment ended up being a bit of a mixed one, though by no means am I going to sit here and say that there was a point I disliked the title, let alone wanted to stop. If I had to articulate it, it’s that I think Judgment suffers from three categorical issues that I’ll be curious to see its sequel address. Nonetheless, like any RGG game, it was still rich with enough content that it ended up greater than the sum of its parts, so let’s get on with it.

We follow a street-hardened, disgraced-lawyer-turned-detective Takayuki Yagami and his many acquaintances across the district of Kamurocho, where its citizenry is dealing with the turf disputes between Yakuza and an ongoing serial murder case. Due to his connections on almost all sides of the legal system, Yagami becomes embroiled in both in this mystery drama that revels in its escalation as it twists and turns. The writing explores the relationships between moral righteousness and consequences - and using a protagonist determined to do right whilst littered with turmoil over his past comes full circle in establishing a cohesive narrative where almost every character has some purpose. While Yagami himself isn’t the larger-than-life figure Kiryu becomes despite the latter’s own trials and tribulations, his more grounded and vulnerable characterizations add so much levity to his victories as the plot goes on that really hammer home how much of an underdog he is. Whether that be some thematic portrayal of gilded virtues, the individual versus institutions, and weaponizing depression - Judgment addresses quite an amount in particularly meaningful ways.

Speaking of variety, the beat em up styled combat offers a surprising amount despite a relatively small sample size. Yagami’s core tools cater around his mobility, particularly his ability to attack off of walls or leapfrog over enemy heads. Between the rangier, wide-sweeped crane style and precision-power of his tiger style that a player can switch even in mid-combo, it’s key to maintain that mobility depending upon what sorts of combos you’re using, including charging your attacks to keep your mixups up. While walls become the main attraction for leaping off of and knocking enemies into for rebounds, there’s plenty of environmental weapons to grab and use to turn the tide. Like other RGG games, building meter allows Yagami to perform the series’ heat actions, namely powerful context-sensitive animations where a larger-than-life move is done to deal serious damage to the enemy: these hurt and they look the part to make the action satisfying. Conserving meter, like any good action-ortiented (or fighting-inspired) game becomes essential. Do you use a wall jump heat action to try and hit a whole crowd to get space? You need to isolate a target and take him down before you get swarmed? You got knocked down and have the meter to hit a reversal to take the enemy out now? These are just some of them - and it’s a choice always prevalent in this series. What Judgment adds is the EX charge, where Yagami’s abilities, damage and speed are maxed out temporarily whilst being gifted hyperarmor and invulnerability. It consumes meter quickly, but it’s your chance to take down enemies as quickly as possible.

Enemy design across RGG games is a topic I’m going to preface that I don't 100% get all of the nuances of, but the thing that makes them consistent is that interactions work on everyone and everything. Enemies can block, but you can break their guards or outposition them. Enemies will even collide with environments or each other and cause damage if knocked back - and this includes bosses. Bosses generally also behave like more dangerous regular enemies, yet with their own combo strings and counters, or specific openings to make you consider how they work. They even have their own heat auras to make them considerable threats on a character level and a gameplay level respectively. Bosses also have unique moves called Deadly Attacks, always in their second phases, whereupon they launch a telegraphed combo move that deals enormous damage to Yagami and lowers their max health bar (only resolved with a medical kit). At first, I wasn’t too keen on these moves, but I’ve come to realize that being hit by these moves is ultimately your fault and you can interrupt these moves with heat actions or wall jump grabs. That is to say, between bosses and mobs, Judgment isn’t a hard game, but it isn’t going to hold your hand.

The crux of Judgment’s non-combat exploration and side content deals with exploring Kamurocho, interacting with its civilians to express the livelihood and whacky world Yagami and co. live in. While I’ve seen many express some sentiment that the Like a Dragon series has some form of tonal dissonance between its melodrama and absurdity, it’s not one I can agree with. Think of it this way: what else is more video-gamey (for the lack of a better phrase) than having midfight animations where a 200lbs man dropkicks a crowd of human bowling pins? These games revel in their silliness because the plots are inherently absurd themselves; they are going to have emotional highs of severity and tragedy, why can’t they have the opposite? Even if some of the humor doesn’t land (and much of it certainly doesn’t for myself), I think a game series that is willing to stick to its identity in these terms is no contradiction - and not to mention how much media you’ll find that does exactly the same across all genres.

Tangents aside, exploration is rewarded by providing experience points to upgrade Yagami’s skills and unlock new ones. Moreover, interacting with restaurant and merchandise owners opens up small questlines with potential discounts along the way. It’s entirely up to you if you want to do these, but the benefits are worth it. After all, while you can break Judgment into an easier game with mass-acquired items, you’ll have to get to that point where you have the currency and progression to do so. And there’s frankly, still, an absurd amount to do, between minigames (including incorporating board games and former generation arcade titles), beating up the antagonistic Keihen Gang all over town, and trading for new items, how much you put into this one, like any RGG title, is entirely up to you.

(I couldn’t figure out where to talk about things like chases or tailing characters besides here, but generally they tend to remain homogenous minigames to kill time rather than anything interesting after the first few.)

However, I said at the beginning of this writeup that I had a mixed experience with this game and that there were three characteristics of it that I found problematic.

The first is that, while the main drama is foundationally strong from start to finish, the pacing has some issues, notably with including filler. That is to say, I don’t exactly think making certain side cases mandatory without some tie to the main storyline was the best idea even if it gives the cast something to do while waiting. I confess it’s a bit jarring to, instead of choosing to of my own agency, suddenly find myself having to talk to some nameless NPC to follow her adult son around Kamurocho with a result that has zero plot relevance and no character development in between a section where the characters just survived one ordeal and are trying to find their bearings.

The second is that Yagami’s combat has a notable balancing problem: tiger style is far, far better than crane style. While crane style does have exclusive features that are useful, namely being able to hit in 360-degrees and target multiple enemies at once in an arc, you eventually come to realize that tiger is better suited to the core combat and that a vast majority of your upgraded abilities are built around it explicitly whilst crane doesn’t receive those. That’s most demonstrative with the fact that tiger is better at building meter for two reasons: one, it is far more consistent at being able to guard break and the ability flux fissure ensures that Yagami can obtain an entire bar of meter within just a few basic combos. Let me rephrase: you’ll find yourself in combat encounters where heat actions are a reliable resource and you need to build it effectively and the fastest, most consistent way is tiger style, a few inputs of the square button to break a guard, and a flux fissure. Crane doesn’t have anything remotely close to that, the best it does offer is allowing you to potentially knockback multiple enemies at once, but that’s another thing: in one-on-one fights, you’re likely to only use crane if you are switching mid-combo to keep the enemy stunlocked; there is no greater benefit to using it over tiger. It isn’t useless by any stretch, but it is the weaker link of Yagami’s moveset period.

The third problem with Judgment is its encounter design. While enemies are fun to fight, particularly with the use of the environments, I found myself asking one essential question when I was about ten hours into the game: How many bosses did I feel like I actually learned to fight by this point? It then hit me that, since the first boss, I had fought every boss accompanied by a mob and me with allies. While I’m not going to sit here and say this is an actual bad design choice, I do think the sheer amount of enemies accompanying these bosses with said allies, all of whom are dealing fairly significant damage, makes these encounters feel like they’re chaotic slugfests than climatic encounters to see how good you’ve gotten so far. And if the room is small with multiple bosses and enemies like one lategame fight, you better hope your ally or the camera don’t put you in a position where either boss can use Deadly Attacks and you have no space to see nor move. There’s also the issue that some bosses are genuinely random as far as the hitstun rules. While bosses will change up midfight what combos and openings they have, they typically remain consistent, yet there are a number who attain permanent superarmor with wide-arching hitboxes that baffled me. The Keihen Gang leaders demonstrate this problem in that when I wasn’t forced to stunlock Honda into a loop, he would be punishing almost every other attack arbitrarily. Koga is even worse because his firearms have by far the most ridiculous hitboxes in the game and every shot is treated the same as a Deadly Attack. If you aren’t stunlocking Koga down, he’s liable to take you out sometimes out of nowhere. Speaking of the Keihen Gang, I understand the idea behind it, but when you consider how I didn’t exactly enjoy fighting most of the leaders and upping the encounter rate (mind you, you -can- just run away) sort of just adds padding on top of everything else. I want to emphasize that I’ve played and experienced far worse encounter design but I think a lot more could be done because bosses in particular are kind of forgettable even if outside of Koga, I don’t think any is actually garbage and are, at best, solid (when you actually fight one solo). It’s just that nothing stands out because many of the answers to dealing with said bosses are either stunlocking them with only 1-2 specific loops because many combo strings will get countered/blocked or abusing heat actions through item consumption or extracts. The fact that extracts are introduced as an item literally to counterbalance RNG enemy superarmor - and are actually too strong as far as what it lets you do - makes it so that said balance they wanted to make is obsolete. The enemy design has a lot going for it, but, again, there’s some shortcomings that nothing really stands out down the stretch.

Actually, I lied, there is an exception: the final boss, a fight so good I genuinely thought I was playing a completely different game. Judgment’s finale was one of the selling points going into it and I was told to stay the course - it absolutely lives up to its hype.

And that’s Judgment for me in a vacuum. While I sit here having disliked many aspects of the title, I also know for a fact that it is an incredibly memorable game. The main drama wins you over as it intensifies, the main combat is functional enough to keep playing even with shortcomings, and the overall experience maintains that charm people tell you that the franchise has had since day one. At the very least, it brought me back into the fold of the series once more - and I can’t wait for the next one I get to tackle.

Whilst I’m not exactly one who enjoys being combative about how other players tackle something, after replaying Kingdom Hearts 3D: Dream Drop Distance (which, for the sake, of brevity, we'll just call DDD) with some restrictions attached on both Proud and Critical, I found myself thinking about that the negative receptions this game has garnered feel a bit unwarranted. You could make some point about how Kingdom Hearts as a series has produced a fandom that spends too much time arguing about game quality comparatives instead of emphasizing how said series made for children is accessible to any age or any level of player across the board - that instead of paying attention to how each entry experiments and plays to its own strengths, they punch down at one game for not doing all the right another does - and I would wager that factors into how this one has been received.

Because, while I definitely think that DDD is a game with an acquired taste necessary to maximize your enjoyment of it and is not in the same quality I hold the three mainline entries to, I see many comments that make me wonder if they didn’t try different tactics that aren’t basic melee attacks or spamming the balloon spell to buzzsaw through sections. You definitely can do those things, yet just simplifying the game down to that either/or binary when there’s evidently more going on sells the title short.

What worked for me as far as appreciating DDD was viewing it through the lens that it’s an action title more in common with KH1-styled maximizing RPG mechanics. That is to say, if you’re going to focus upon blocking and melee alone, you might not get the best out of the combat system. Rather, thinking outside the box - i.e. experimenting with enemy weaknesses/gimmicks - is, for my money, the best way to find value in this game.

Like any of the KH games, you have your general abilities, emphasis on combos, defensive options (blocks, counters, dodges, air dashes), et cetera. To augment those features, DDD has a number of additions in how it handles optimizations with party members and environmental movements.

Starting with the latter, flowmotion allows your characters to bounce off of walls or use poles to attack enemies offensively or to gain some aerial defenses. Moreover, with sturdier enemies, you can even dash into them to trigger a grab to toss into other foes - because this ability will cancel out any of those enemies’ committed attacks, it’s one of the go-to options for crowd control. The only real danger with flowmotion is that smaller arenas with walls (e.g. Traverse Town’s Third District) can lead to a player using flowmotion without meaning too, but that can be mitigated by turning the associated abilities off or with some basic situational awareness.

Dream Eaters are the second major crux of DDD’s system and it’s where the RPG concepts emerge to align with your playstyle. Instead of characterized party members, the Dream Eaters (or DEs) are synthesized through collected loot drops. Once made, you can select which ones will serve in your party. In combat, they add to your playstyle in several ways:

-One, directly attacking enemies to build meter. Once their set meter is maxed out, Sora or Riku can activate unique special abilities. In Sora’s case, he can use Link Attacks, where he becomes invincible and can deal extraordinary damage to anything on the battlefield. Riku, comparatively, absorbs the Dream Eater to get a buffed, specialized combo moveset - in exchange for the lack of invincibility, his Link Styles specials last longer.

-Two, certain Dream Eaters will have specialized kinds of support. Some may fight directly alongside you, others may have certain unique buffs they can cast on your character, and, arguably the most essential facet, depending upon what Dream Eater you have, they have a unique kind of support abilities the player can equip. As the game progresses, it becomes invaluable to pay attention to the Dream Eater’s skill tree, seeing what kinds of ancillary defenses they offer to decide how to stay safe and proactive in combat. However, with how these skill trees work, you have other things to consider, namely what kinds of permanent, additional abilities you can obtain.

That is to say, constantly using links or fighting alongside the DEs is incentivized in order to unlock better abilities. For instance, one Dream Eater offers an omnidimensional block for Riku, but another may provide the player iframes when they heal. All of these cost points, and those points are only obtained through combat interactions. Personally I’m not keen on the Dream Eaters conceptually nor using skill trees, but thinking about what to obtain in relation to what Dream Eaters will offer the best support by encounter adds nuance to your decisions

(I’d be remiss to forget that the other way to get link points is through a pet simulator series of games with the Dream Eaters. Since this is a game for children, I don’t think this is something you can be upset about, but, if you don’t want to interact with it that much, giving treats or auto-entering and exiting minigames will build up link points quickly.)

Furthermore, the command deck established from Birth by Sleep is in full utility here - and it’s where the game’s combat fully incorporates RPG-stylized mechanics. At the player’s discretion, you can organize your deck with spells, powerful attack options, et cetera. With how potent each ability is, the cooldowns are necessary to prevent players from being too strong. While you can actually stack the command deck with the same commands should you have multiple copies of them in ways that can break that aforementioned balancing act (e.g. the balloon tactics many use), but that choice to do so remains your own. Operating a successful, versatile command deck and willing to change it according to your party allocations and the enemy encounters is how you’ll get the best out of DDD. Like any RPG, whatever you chose or chose not to use is entirely up to you - you create your own build and fun that way.

It’s probably important for me to say that, with two playable characters, keeping some differences between them to affect some playstyle was essential. I’ve already covered the link-based offense, but generally speaking, I would say Riku holds more versatile attack and safer defensive options (especially as far as maneuverability), yet I’d argue he’s not capable of dishing out the punishment Sora’s combo-based abilities. Riku holds an omnidirectional counter, but Sora’s counter is longer and can transition to more offense based upon proximity. You can structure similar command decks and party layouts, though the distinctions between both characters close and open some doors on what to think about.

(The drop system is an interesting touch because it keeps you on a time limit to switch between characters. I don’t think it’s inherently a negative to pay attention to your progression and, even if you aren’t into said system, being able to drop back whenever you’re not in combat manually makes it sort of a non-issue personally. It’s more a gimmick than a positive or negative the way I see it.)

With enemy design, I don’t personally think the regular mobs will stand out in a series known for producing foes like Large Bodies or Sorcerers, though they do distinguish themselves enough and have the teeth to be very threatening if you aren’t being proactive. You’ll have enemies that will launch projectiles, employ some grabs, or even cast status ailments on you - there’s a lot going on to keep you aware. For example, a late game enemy has the ability to cast Stop, you’ll want to probably stay away or take them out. One tactic is launching them, another is using your own stop magic (by the way, you can cast status ailments on enemies too, it’s all fair game) to keep them pinned while you prioritize other threats. Recognizing these things is important with mob control in any action game - how you handle it is up to you and means having the willingness to play around with your arsenal to maximize rewards. I, again, don’t think I can qualify DDD’s enemy design as a standard bearer (and there are some projectile or grab-happy enemies whose hitboxes almost certainly need some tweaking because of how easily you get stunlocked) yet it does it’s job enough.

Bosses in DDD are perhaps the most interesting topic because the popular consensus is rather negative. To be completely honest, it’s a sentiment I disagree with. Perhaps the biggest misconception is that these bosses operate randomly as far as stagger rules. This isn’t the case, although how it does actually work is fairly niche. Specifically, bosses have a set resistance value to being hitstunned - that is, they can take a set number of hits before their poise disappears. Once said resistance value is depleted, depending upon the boss itself, they become punishable. Giant bosses will kneel down into a passive state temporarily, allowing players to wail on them. Humanoid bosses are even more interesting because they do stagger, but certain ones will stagger only for a set amount of blows, even sometimes just one time. The question is, why? What does it teach?

If I had to guess, it’s tied into how each boss has a set weakness or exploitation. For instance, an early game boss, Rinzler, only attacks in melee. You can parry and counter his telegraphed moves, though his resistance and stagger values are at 1 point each. The trick to understanding Rinzler is recognizing that he’s a boss you have to play a hit-and-run game against and that he’s weak (like many enemies in his level) to Thunder. Ergo, equipping your command deck with attacks that let you counter or get out of dodge quickly works wonders - even better, you may have early game commands like Thunder Dash or Spark Dive, which do the above whilst dealing Thunder-based damage. Every boss has a trick like this with their weaknesses or what sorts of attacks they launch at you, you just have to find them (and yes, there are bosses who can be afflicted with status ailments like poison or slow).

I can assure you though, it’s not the RNG that many players insist to you - how things work is incredibly consistent for the vast majority of these bosses. While their aforementioned gimmicks may not be for everyone, I don’t think I can, after two playthroughs, believe there’s a boss without some thought put into how they work. In particular, the endgame gauntlet particularly shines, being home to some of the most intense fights of the series. The penultimate boss is among my all-time favorites, having some unique gimmicks that make it a hell of a rewarding test to figure out, and even demonstrating how some humanoid bosses in DDD have similar pattern-based openings to being staggered like Kingdom Hearts 3’s acclaimed Data Organization.

Asking about DDD’s story is its own conversation best left to others than myself, though it’s best seen as a /transition to set up the final act in KH3. The substance lies in giving one of the main characters one of their greater lows to bounce back from and the other a moment to show just how far they’ve come. So long as you look at it that way, I think it does its job.

I want to emphasize that again that, while much of this writeup can be construed as a personal defense of DDD, I’m, again, not about to pretend it won’t be for everyone and that choices here will come down to preferences - and I think that if it doesn’t click, it’s fine. There certifiably are better games in this series and there are aspects of DDD that just don’t click for me personally, such as the dedicated time to Dream Eater interaction, some of the aforementioned enemy issues, certain hitbox and hurtbox inconsistencies, and so on. Having said that, I definitely maintain that this one has an undeserved reception. Maybe it’s just me and my obtuse desire to make the most out of every title I play leaving me blind to shortcomings, but I’m not going to apologize for it. In my view, Kingdom Hearts 3D: Dream Drop Distance is a functional, fascinating game that you should respect for its willingness to play with established mechanics and add new ones without necessarily achieving the critical acclaim the best of the series does. I would give it more of a chance to appreciate it on its own terms.

Last notes:
-For both playthroughs, I intentionally played around with my lineups and options to ensure that combat was never strictly the same. This included some restrictions, such as limiting usage of certain commands to one slot (or not at all), intentionally avoiding flowmotion-based attacks in some bouts, or even practicing some fights with minimal uses of commands. In the process, I discovered several useful AI loops and aforementioned, specific enemy weaknesses.
-Like every game in the series, the OST is always fantastic. The final act in particular has some of my favorite tracks in the franchise. Symphony of Sorcery is basically a nonstop orchestra ensemble.
-Lowkey, I find DDD encourages far more offensive-based playstyles than the majority of the franchise. That is to say, between mobility, balancing link meter, and powerful commands according to mob control and boss stagger, being proactive and constant with offense is important. You’re only going to get hurt if you aren’t being selective with said offense.

To say that the original Resident Evil 4 is some gold standard as far as action titles go would be an understatement. Rather than setting the player through surviving an interactive series of rooms and puzzles, the fourth mainline entry catered towards the combat encounters themselves. While it never absolves itself of problem-solving, how it crafts scenarios to solve is completely built around a methodical control of one Leon S. Kennedy and his massacre of the plagas-infested population. That is to say, Resident Evil 4’s baseline success was that it was actually maximizing its minimalism. There was a low variety of enemy types, so the options the player is given revolves around controlling them in a comparatively wide amount of arenas and composition of spawns. Micromanaging resources from any survivalist game plays its course, but the actual freedom you’re given is constant so long as you’re situationally aware (e.g. positions, resources, tactics). The game was never fast-paced, but losing any kind of attention span could see an encounter spiraling out of that essential, methodological control you need. From the opening village battle that sets the tone to the scenarios where a timer isn’t going to be what saves you, Resident Evil 4 showed you needed to play smarter, not harder. This was to say nothing of context-sensitive interactions, such as meleeing stunned enemies to ground them, knockbacks with more powerful firearms, or attacking set body parts triggered a certain response. From the ground up, this all-timer was made to be a sandbox for a player to manage to their heart’s content. Nearly two decades removed, it's still one of the finest games ever made.

With the improved graphical hardware of modern generations, there’s been an increasing trend towards remaking games, something Capcom themselves have jumped on the bandwagon with. While their reimagined version of Resident Evil 2 was well-received, the Resident Evil 3 remake, despite adding some combat options, filtered out some players, including yours truly, due to cut content and some corner-cutting design choices over a short run-period. Nonetheless, it didn’t take long for Resident Evil 4’s remake to be announced. And, after playing said remake, I find it admittedly difficult to know how to approach this game in a way that seems constructive or fair due to my own mindset.

To me, a remake implicates one of two routes. The first is that the title’s inner workings is reimagined from its foundation to be recontextualized - it is a completely different experience, a completely new game. The alternative is that the original product’s formula is looked at and improved upon. Due to the original Resident Evil 4 inspiring many of the mechanics present in series entries since then, it seemed as if they realized the best route was to take the original game and add to it. There’s no doubt as well, given the end result, that the remake’s developers paid considerable attention to the original’s strengths and considered it was better to keep them in. Let me say on record that I don’t think there’s such a thing as a qualitatively perfect product that couldn’t be improved; therefore, it’s understandable why Capcom chose option two here because, for all intents and purposes, you could improve Resident Evil 4.

This leads to a focus question for me: After playing through this remake, does it succeed as living up to one of my personal favorites? I’ll be upfront when I say that I don’t think there’s an easy answer here that isn’t inherently colored by my preferences, yet I do have one: I think Resident Evil 4’s remake is a good title that takes a step forward, however, it also takes a step and half back that means it remains the inferior version.

Do I ultimately feel the way I do because of my love for the original? Or are my sentiments the same standards I’d apply to anything I’d play? I’ve asked myself while thinking about the game and as I wrote this if it was either, but I came to the conclusion that I just have to go with my gut and be honest.

Most of the systems of the original game are prevalent from the get-go, namely the emphasis upon resource management and crowd control in the variety of combat zones. What has changed is the amount of the players and enemies can respectively do.

Leon’s knife, for instance, has the ability to parry - a perfectly timed one opens up a melee attack on regular enemies. You could do this in the original with projectiles, but it wasn't an enormous focus or an assigned context-sensitive action. The parry can even block long range attacks, including moves from bosses that dwarf the player. For players who want their offense to remain their best defense, it’s a useful addition and helpful when surrounded. Moreover, the knife now has an instant kill option, but it requires players to either have the enemy grounded or to position themselves behind them. To balance the ability out, the knife is no longer a permanent fixture: it can break by doing these things and can only be repaired by the merchant or finding other knives. At first, it seems a bit limiting, though it makes sense once you realize how powerful these options are. After all, you can trivialize a number of fights by using flash grenades into instant kills. An unbreakable knife would mean this would be the most viable tactic - it has to be limited in some way.

The addition of a crouch adds some layer of stealth to the mix, but the crouch can be used in action combat to dodge certain horizontal enemy attacks, such as grabs. Stealth itself is useful in that it allows for an ammo-conservative approach; it’s very generous as far as how much you can ambush enemies before you’re spotted.

Weapons ostensibly operate the same as the original, though there are some new additions such as the bolt thrower. Some things, like the incendiary grenades, are outright removed. With the use of crosshairs for aiming affecting accuracy, Leon is allowed to move while firing. I don't exactly like crosshairs personally, but I understand how they balanced and implemented it to encourage the player to keep moving. Moreover, active ammunition drops aren’t as common, but the game takes a similar crafting system as the one in RE2R to allow players to have some controlled agency on what weapons they want to build around.

Because the majority of drops are currency, the merchant returns with a more devout view of capitalism reflective by him being more talkative than ever. The actual workings with the merchant remain the same between upgrades, purchasing items, and selling treasures, though the need to repair knives/armor or purchasing stronger weapons means the merchant might be visited more than ever. The merchant also assigns the player side tasks to do, most of them target practice filler, but the rewards for some of the monotony make these missions worthwhile.

I’d be remiss to not talk about how enemies have changed. While the general principles remain the same, the ganados have a few new moves based upon their weapons. A villager wielding a pitchfork may do a windup charge, another may come behind you and grab you, and so on. The plagas-infested enemies also change properties, namely with their size or how smaller, satellite plagas can attach themselves to different ganados to make their aggression more frenzied. Some enemies, upon being grounded, may even be revived, though the knife may stop them before that happens. What’s evident though is that the developers paid an enormous amount of attention to how the original’s enemy design worked and made an effort at recapturing their strengths and adding an extra layer based upon the player’s new tools.

This attention to detail remains with the boss design too. Some remain the same, but many have had their entire fights reworked. Salazar, the original’s most static boss, becomes a multi-floor, cover-centric game of role-reversing cat and mouse. Krauser, the original’s main humanoid boss, creates an interactive parry battle whilst allowing Leon to use Krauser’s own traps against him, creating some back-and-forth that even the original didn’t achieve. While Resident Evil has never been a series with particularly strong boss fights, the original Resident Evil 4 had one of the stronger lineups - and I feel like the remake improves upon most of them in almost every way.

Like many of the newer Resident Evils, the overall storyline has had its own rewriting. While I don’t exactly see too much merit in dwelling over a series that revels in its own style, I can appreciate some of the changes here. Ashley Graham remains out of her depth, but her developing confidence is its own endearment. Luis Serra deals with an explicit, appreciated referential to Don Quixote, emphasizing that story’s impractical idealism on a more personal level - he wants to redeem himself as a chivalrous human being, not know himself as the man who contributed to the growing biohazard threat the world faces. Again, I don’t personally think it’s a tale with much depth to begin with - Resident Evil has always been melodramatic, albeit in an incredibly charming manner - and it’s best I feel to stay in that lane. My only real complaint is that the reinterpretation of Saddler into a hive minded, stereotypical cult leader with some cosmetic fetish feels like a downgrade from the ambitious man willing to trade verbal wits with the protagonists.

So, here we stand with a game that is, by all accounts, a strong remake. It captures the core components of what made the original good, attempts to expand upon them, and shows a fair amount of reverence to that greatness. However, I have to talk about why, most of the time I was playing, I found myself wishing I was playing the 2005 classic instead.

While this game keeps many of the same properties, such as the enemies getting stunned dependent upon what body part the player targets, there’s an issue that causes the whole system to lose an enormous amount of its cohesive value: The hitstun is RNG - and it’s not tied to any kind of dynamic difficulty. That is to say, enemies can hyperarmor through bullets unexpectedly and the amount it takes to cause a set stagger animation is inconsistent. While I’m perhaps controversially of the opinion that it’s fine for a game to not have hitstun, the caveat is that there needs to be interactive ways for a player to work with it. I’d argue, comparatively, that not having a constant rule in a game with hitstun is just as problematic because it subverts many of the player’s options in of itself. Because you can’t rely upon the hitstun always working, it means you might get punished for taking necessary-crowd control risks; because you can’t predict which shots will and will not work, the offense-is-the-best-defense methods lose value; because you have to expend more ammunition than expected due to deal with unpredictable situations, you are forced into certain builds that deincentivize creative play; because the parry becomes your most reliable safe defense and can be broken, you are forced to spend more with the merchants to repair it - and if you don’t have a working knife, you’ll be forced into a hit-and-run style. The only ways to mitigate this problem are to have the reticle on the crosshairs closed in and to upgrade your weapons for higher damage value - and yet it’s still there. The only weapon with seemingly consistent stagger is the bolt thrower for reasons I couldn’t tell you. It comes full circle in how enemies are enormous damage-sponges here and how some enemies seemingly won’t stay down. While the original game did encourage using powerful weapons, the lesser tools never lost their utility, but here, it often felt pointless to not just use the strongest options instead of practical ones. There are ways to ask questions of the player into using and experimenting with their arsenal, but because the interconnective tissue between Leon’s attacks and enemy responses is broken, the quality of problem-solving freedom compared to the original is miniscule. While it's a good thing the game wants you to stay on the move, I feel hyperarmor and RNG hitstun weren't the way to go about it.

What makes this even more frustrating is that the startup and recovery animations for Leon are noticeably slower. Between crouching, running (which is, in of itself, sluggish enough that enemies can easily catch up to you), reloading, et cetera - there’s always a notable delay, which makes all the more difference in how enemies are incredibly aggro and will attempt to surround you. And speaking of enemy properties, some of the hitboxes are equally erratic and can even clip you through barriers. While I have no real opinion on the changes to escorting Ashley, I could not tell you how many times she got sniped into that state off of a lingering hitbox (looking at you, crossbow zealots and castle catapults). Then there’s the matter of enemy grabs from spawns that seem to come out of nowhere that will damage you on the first frame and breaking free prevents death more than it does damage. To top it all off, many times, the context sensitive melee and knife attacks may not trigger or won’t register whatsoever. All of this is to say there’s a significant amount of overturning for the enemies and an undertuning for Leon’s kit.

I asked myself if I’m being unfair and it’s likely, given that there’s such a contrast I’m providing to the original, that I am, yet I’m also of the mind that: one, the aforementioned problems would be an issue for me regardless of the title. And two, if a game is going to call itself a remake and take on the namesake of “Resident Evil 4”, then I’m going to have to treat it to some standard. While it seems harsh to say, many of the reasons this game is good is because it takes the formula the original game established its greatness with. The original isn’t a completely flawless game, yet there are reasons it remains the version I’d call the definitive experience.

That said, this is still an excellent game and there’s a myriad of aspects to appreciate. The developers crafted a title many are calling the best game in the series in years - and it deserves credit for all it did provide despite coming short of its predecessor in my eyes. There are even subtler tidbits to appreciate, such as ways to skip encounters, character one-liners matching how well the player is performing, enemies with weapons may fake you out, and so on.

Besides the main storyline, the Separate Days DLC also deserves commendation for being actually better than the original’s. The same base game issues are prevalent, yet Ada has her own unique weaponry, namely the grappling gun, to add some verticality to her playthrough. There are also unique boss encounters developed that stand with the best of the base game’s. Less than $10 for this expansion is frankly a steal. Mercenaries usually speaks for itself, with not-Wesker (Because I refuse to acknowledge a Wesker without a D.C Douglas voicing him) as a power fantasy, blasting through enemies with swagger.

This is all to say, Resident Evil 4’s Remake may not be everything I’d hoped for as far as living up to its legacy, but it’s still a solid experience all the same.

I owned this game for about a decade and never played it and found that disheartening, so, after some two dozen hours later, approximately two playthroughs, typically ranged on intensities 5.5 to 8.0, I came out thinking about how, when they aren’t performing certain disagreeable practices, Nintendo is exceptional at producing games that are unconventional and unafraid to be different.

In other words, I’m not going to pretend that this writeup, like anything I post on here, is anything less than an encapsulation of my personal enjoyments and thoughts on the game - especially seeing as it's one I probably won’t master anytime soon. But Kid Icarus Uprising has charm to it that anyone could find to some extent I’d feel - but before anyone plays it, you’re given some prewarning about how strange it is to play.

The controls are meant for maximizing the 3DS’ capabilities in the minimalist sense possible with three inputs, a trigger button for offense, a control stick for basic movement, and using the touch screen for reticle aiming and camera manipulation. Whilst I understand how, even with in-game explanations for controller layouts and sensitivity options, this layout is extremely niche for players to get used to. However, as someone with specific real-life gross motor skill issues, I can say that, while there is some kind of adjustment, the responses to player input after finding the right settings and timing were extremely consistent. The stylus inputs are less intimidating once you understand it's more about swipes than extensive holding - as if you’re writing notes in a notepad than shading in a part of a picture. While I do think a camera reset button would be an extremely helpful addition, I find myself disagreeing with the vast majority of criticisms as my experience progressed and noticing just how impeccably responsive my inputs were.

That said, the core gameplay, over the course of 25-chapters, is split in two sections: One, based upon a scripted rail shooter scroller, focused on avoiding enemies and blasting anything in your way. These sections, billed through plot explanations, only last five minutes, but they fulfill their job as far as establishing the mission’s intensity from the start - enemies come out in waves and you do have to pay attention to obstacles. The real meat of the game, however, comes in the ground-based sections.

What I said before about KIU’s maximizing itself in minimalist ways ought to be a recurring theme here - again, only three different inputs are used, but various permutations and utility exists within each. While I won’t pretend I understand the full extent of the weapon system, Pit can be equipped with set weapons based around stat and attack option properties. Some may excel more with melee, some have longer cooldown times between charge attacks, et cetera. Moreover, timing defensive maneuvers in dashes and dodges can affect the projectiles used with a quick followup input, thereby rewarding players for experimenting with what kind of weapons they equip and how they use it - a feedback loop exists to improve player skills whilst ensuring they can craft some style by their preferences. Certain built-in implementations such as the powers (e.g. temporary hyperarmor, homing shots, shields), item drops, and stamina (to prevent players from being too powerful) keep the engagement going. While the game gives you all the tools to work with, it’s ultimately up to you to discover the hidden technical skills (i.e. attacks the go through walls),

This is facilitated further by the enemy designs. Whilst many shooters emphasize attacking weak points or body parts, most enemies in Kid Icarus Uprising are a single model, yet almost every fight has a gimmick. In these levels, it’s important to be familiar with what the enemy can do - then you can allocate your setup around handling it. Some foes only can be affected by melee, some have projectiles you can knock back at them, and some even consume other enemies to get stronger. While the game does leave solving many of these problems to the player, the main premises are provided the minute the enemy appears. Consequently, this means the player probably won’t experience any “gotchas” that they can attribute to the game being unfair.

Bosses up the ante at the end of every chapter by playing upon all the lessons KIU wants you to learn and then providing their own quirks to the mix. You’ll find they ask you to think about when to dodge, where you want to stand, and even how the environments affect the flow of battle. If you liken them to puzzles that play into the game’s strengths, the more you can get out of them. Every one of them is some new lesson to ingrain into the player - no fight truly blends together.

This is all topped off by Uprising’s colorful cast of misfits, all trapped in a cacophony of bizarre sequential events, carried entirely through the game’s incredibly amusing banter and progression. This game knows exactly what it is and spends every moment making the best out of everyone. It’s fascinating how well it balances out proper characterizations, in-game dialogue assistance correlating well to how everyone is acting, and an adventure that would, in almost any other circumstance, come across as a mess. It’s one of the funniest games I’ve ever played. I’d be remiss if I failed to mention the main villain in particular is the standout and steals every scene he’s in.

Suffice it to say, I have an enormous amount of respect for this game. The myriad of scenarios and feedback loop, along with bonus content (multiplayer, boss battles rush, difficulty selections, weapon choices) means that there is an inherently high replay value for anyone who loves this game. It epitomizes pure fun in its entirety and time/care was evidently taken to ensure it worked.

I have to confess, however, that this game isn’t 100% my thing and I’m struggling to come up with a clear explanation for why. Nonetheless, I can list a few points that I did not enjoy as much in this game:
-There were moments where the game’s hitboxes were incredibly inconsistent. This was especially prevalent versus bosses whereupon I would successfully dodge in one instance only for the same move to connect later.
-I do think, despite my admission that I don’t quite understand the full weapon system (thereby making the following possibly incorrect), there isn’t as much utility to melee attacks as there is for ranged. That isn’t to say they aren’t useful, but there are encounters whereupon melee builds are straight up not practical. While I could admit it’s fine the game wants me to keep trying other options, I don’t think restricting one is entirely the answer.
-Some bosses had untelegraphed attack patterns and outright broke some of the game’s rules. Chapter 18’s boss limits you to a melee-attacks only, but will break out of your combos seemingly at random. Chapter 16’s boss makes your only defense to shoot projectiles, yet the boss has attacks that cannot be destroyed and can break through your own fire.
-While I think the risk/reward factor for raising the intensity is a good system, I don’t follow why the difficulty is knocked down to a full point for deaths (i.e. dying on intensity 6.5 will lower it to 5.5 if you wish to continue). You could argue it forces players to be mindful, but it’s strange because there’s already a consequence for failure, namely losing out on bonuses and the hearts you bet. It strikes me as very unnecessary.

I may well be wrong about many of the above, yet they were things I noticed through my two runs through the title.

That said, Kid Icarus Uprising is an absolutely spectacular game as I’ve outlined - and my above issues are most likely strictly for my own experience. There is a stellar amount to appreciate in this game even if it may not be you. The gameplay plays with conventions in ways you don’t simply see, its systems are tuned to be balanced and fair as much as possible, replay value is prevalent, and its production value shows through its all-star team of soundtrack composers and voice actors. I don’t know if I’ll return to it, though what I can without a doubt say is, if I was younger, this would have easily been one of my favorite games.

I want to preface this by saying that Armored Core has been on my radar to play for about half-a-decade now, I’ve just never gotten around to it outside of some research and conferring with those who have played it. Ergo, my experience is in isolation with the sixth mainline entry here and I apologize for any accidental assumptions.

The premise of Armored Core 6’s gameplay lies within economical management of your mech’s build and specific gameplay decision-making. In a mission-based structure with some scenario branching, the game is ostensibly designed to be replayed and encourages experimentation.

The player has a number of options at their discretion and it is imperative they pay attention to how their mech, the AC, coordinates its functionality. Sturdier builds may offer superior firepower, though they may have to tank greater amounts of damage in compensation of lack of evasiveness. Some weapons will have set damage values according to their ranges, or set cooldown periods required before they can be used again. In other words, there are a variety of mechs to make that can fit the specific person’s style. To balance it out, AC parts are required to be bought at a shop or achieved through optional encounters. While the store allows players to sell parts back for the exact same investment, there are set values on the mech’s build to prevent players from having too much power - weight and EN. Nonetheless, the choices are flexible for however they want to proceed. It all comes down to micro-managing ammunition, boost meter, and builds at its most basic form.

Still, the game’s mission variety will establish that there isn’t a single solution that works everytime without pushback. It’s genuinely easy to see a game over screen in AC6 without some moderation of play, and encounters themselves ask you to be aware of what happens and how to address them. Mobs may include enemies willing to maneuver constantly and snipe at you at a distance, mixed with your cannon fodder of melee. While the actual movesets are simple, the sheer amount at a high pace means these fights can get hectic. Your everyday action game advocates for good positioning and Armored Core 6 hammers that home constantly: If you aren’t moving, you should at least be taking some proactive action or the numbers can and will get to you. In this regard, enemies serve their role - but this is extenuated by some mission changes. Certain tasks may involve escorting helpless allies, eliminating set targets in time limits, et cetera. You may find that your regular tactics don’t work and have to think outside the box. Fortunately, viable options still exist - one such thing is that spawn points are predictable and you have the choice for what enemies you do take out ahead of time or not at all. You may even find applications of certain equipment have unique usages: a massive pulse protection shield can defend an ally while you’re on the move; the tetrapod build can allow you to engage aerial foes at a distance; an enormous late game mob fight against Balam’s best can be incinerated with the use of a flamethrower. Interactions exist as well, mostly facilitated through the ability to collide (esp. with the boost kick) enemies into environments. While these don’t deal damage, aggressive players can pin enemies to a wall and beat them down.

This extends to bosses, as well. I liken these battles to deathmatches, where the game’s DPS-styled initiative rears itself firsthand. I’ve read a number of accounts of how people have struggled with this game and I ultimately think it’s because Armored Core 6’s gameplay is designed in a way where it's tricky to not take damage. That said, many of the game’s most dangerous attacks are telegraphed, and the vast majority of attacks are dealing steady chip damage. It’s not exactly conventional for many games to include systems that forego iframes and safe defensive options, but what Armored Core 6 is actually asking you is to take the initiative and to take out the opposition before they take you out - you need to have composure even under fire or you aren’t going to do well on Rubicon. If your basic enemies didn’t enforce this, then the rival ACs will, each one being high-paced duels fought with against builds that a player can actually replicate themselves. There may well be duels with two at a time, some even becoming battle royales on all sides. While it’s unfortunate that I think many of these rival battles blend together, they ask players to step up their game big time. Even a thirty second shootout can be as close as you can get.

And if you don’t taught the lessons by that point, then the major boss fights will be the skill filters you need. Whilst the first chapter’s endboss, Balteus, has separated those who cannot identify the build and composure-allocative players from those who can’t, the second chapter's bosses reinforce just as much of a check on the player at this point. The Sea Spider in particular can put you out of your comfort zone by making safety zones in the first phase the absolute worst places to be in the second. The point is, these bosses are dynamic and still fit right into what the game wants you to be thinking about whilst still giving you all the choices you want. The standout boss of the game in my opinion, the IBIS unit, becomes a mesmerizing dance to the death against an assault of lasers that will wipe you out in seconds, yet the boss itself isn’t sturdy and melee builds can shred it. These fights present their own gauntlets, but they are genuinely as hard as you make them - exactly what boss fights should be.

Armored Core 6, from what I understand, is a bit less subtle with its morally gray worldbuilding than previous entries, though the mood is established early. The player character is a tool - a capable one - but one nonetheless, at the whims of those involved in war involving corporate-orchestrated avarice and the desperate desire to cling onto humanity in a conflict where no one’s faces are shown. That said, character ACs and voice lines lend plenty of surprising characterization, even if laden with subtext and ambiguity, that keeps the plot threads engaging even if not everything is revealed. Because the game’s endings lead to further replays, it’s easy to see how and why some characters act the way they do - inferences craft intrigue to their characterizations. It’s a surprisingly human game even in the midst of a world where who you are is seemingly irrelevant.

To be honest, I have a bit of a difficult time deciding upon my own feelings with this title in full because, while I respect it and believe it succeeds in the vast majority of what it does, I confess it wasn’t quite my thing and I cannot fully articulate why. What I can extrapolate upon, however, are some things I wasn’t personally keen on.

First, despite weapon utility differentiating itself, I found certain weapons a bit too preferable and strong, namely the Zimmerman and Songbirds. And I’d wager this is due to the second issue, namely how the game has a built in stagger mechanic. I don’t personally mind stagger mechanics and I think it’s perfectly serviceable in this game seeing as you have to take constant initiative when you time your attacks and maximize damage, but the problem becomes pretty obvious: Since the stagger meter restores itself and enemies don’t have the same limitations the player does on meter and ammo, it becomes kind of a given a player is going to favor extensive damage and not experiment with their weapons as much. While nothing in this game is inherently free, it’s noticeable that certain equipment become an easier crutch than trying other tools. Maybe I need to play around a bit more, but this was extremely noticeable to me. What I think is actually a problem is giving the player a stagger meter too. While you have healing items and defensive options to mitigate this, I find it a bit bizarre to include it in a game where iframes aren’t present - and damage, as stated, is kind of inevitable (chip damage keeps building it up). Maybe it reinforces the kill-or-be-killed aspect, but I can admit it’s the one thing that I didn’t enjoy even if it isn’t that egregious.

Nonetheless, Armored Core 6 is a wonderful title and it’s almost impossible to mess up its premise of piloting giant mechs battling others anyways. It definitely strikes me as the kind of title that won’t be for everyone, but I can say I had a blast and I’d be interested in trying out the other entries.

Disclaimer: This was written at the time I have beaten the game on Hard and am midway through a Very Hard playthrough. I have some experience with the side content, but, inherently, this introspective is a bit lacking.

What is evidently a passion project that plays homage to those older arcade action games and Saturday-morning cartoons, Hi-Fi Rush was a game I was inevitably going to love. It knows exactly what it is and stays true to it in its entirety. And that’s something that inherently makes it achieve its goals and has endearing and enduring quality. Hi-Fi Rush, you see, is a gamer’s game; it’s all about having fun from start to finish. Everything ties to the fact that you are playing as an underdog - a mid-20s moron with a heart of gold - beating up corporate robots with a guitar. It’s exactly as it sounds - and it revels in it. Don’t overthink it, it’s great.

It’s impossible to talk about Hi-Fi Rush without acknowledging its stylized ties to music. Everything is built around the absurdity of weaponizing a musical instrument by tying your success in combat to the rhythmic beat reflected in the game’s frankly impeccable synergy between the action, environmental animations, and the literal background music itself. While Hi-Fi Rush crafts this unique merger of the action genre with rhythm games, it’s that it remains consistent and constant throughout with this relationship that may well be its greatest triumph.

Regardless, Hi-Fi Rush won’t introduce anything too different that you’ve maybe experienced in the action scene, though it was made by people who were inspired by the greats of the genre to, at minimum, have serviceable work, and at best, excellent flow. Your main protagonist, Chai, has your bread-and-butter combos, mixups based upon light and heavy inputs that hold different attributive effects and finishers. A successful combo prompts an on-screen beat prompt (sort of a “finisher” variation of a QTE). Timing the input right results in a final hit with luster - after all, a performance has to end with a bang. Combat gets more important with Chai’s effects on enemies, being able to juggle, stun, knockback, and so on. But with these moves all tied to a specific beat, the game subtly succeeds at teaching a lesson: You can’t exactly mash your way to victory. If you didn’t learn it that way, then it will be hammered home by the enemies.

To be honest, I do find that Hi-Fi Rush’s enemy design becomes homogenous at a set point, though that’s not necessarily detrimental. What enemies are supposed to do here is mostly nailed: They are here to get you thinking about where you are, what you can use, et cetera. Where things get more interesting is the parry. While your jump and dodge can get you so far, they are limited in use. The parry is like any system of its kind: the tradeoff is timing - and seeing as this game is all about that, it becomes an essential mechanic to come to grips with if you want to improve your chances since there are rewards, namely damage, insta-kill opportunities, et cetera. Performing consecutive parries to a specific musical beat is perhaps the most satisfying feeling this game gives you amongst its many.

And even then, there are several other opportunities at your disposal. Chai has partners he can switch between who operate on a cooldown system due to their ability to build momentum and damage and each one can assist. Some can stun or knockback enemies, others deal damage, and so on. Successful ability allocations also can let players use special attacks with the partners for major damage or even followup parries with partner-specific counters. How you want to make these things work depends upon you.

I digress, enemies of Hi-Fi Rush do at least mix things up enough. You have basic melee fodder, some ranged attackers, but the larger, “tougher” enemies spice things up. They utilize a stagger meter that must be depleted before they can be stunned like their smaller friends, but, unlike many games that use stagger meters, once the meter is taken down, the same rules apply to them too. Reducing this meter also rewards proactivity, namely engaging with parries, combos, etc. Enemy variety, as I said, remains the one thing I think lacks a bit. While the core flow is achieved and encounters are as fun as long as you take the initiative - and you still meet resistance - I confess even with the more demanding foes, I don’t really think I engaged them too differently at their core. This feels like entirely a nitpick seeing as I have zero issue saying, regardless, enemies do what they’re supposed to.

Bosses, likewise, up the ante of demands by forcing you to pay more attention than ever to beats and openings, especially as later fights require breaking boss-specific armor to even deal damage while they launch consecutive attacks at you at any range, often in sync. But because they’re in the same synergy as the rest of the game, there’s nothing about it that feels out of your control to learn. The fact that every boss distinguishes themselves to be unique in some way (hell, there is a pure QTE-designed fight in this title that legitimately rules) means nothing feels remotely the same. These are excellent major encounters as far as I care, the last two being in contention for my favorite.

There’s a lot more to this game than that, such as the platforming, a bloody palace challenge dungeon, the many tributes to other media and culture, and so on that encourage replay values for a ten hour experience that goes by, though I do want to mention it’s been the longest time since I’ve engaged a title that can earnestly make me laugh at its charm the whole way through. Writing is its own difficult task, so managing to create characters who’re genuine in their simplicity is always going to be something I appreciate. This title, again, has all of its self-awareness, but instead of looking down on itself for it, it embraces exactly what it is with absolute confidence. If you want to look at this game deeper, you can talk about the relationships between passion, confidence, maturity, and empathy. But that’s up to you, this game succeeds as it is here, no doubt in my mind. It doesn’t need to be anything else.

I admit there are some things that confuse me, namely some of the hitboxes of some enemies and the stun/hit registrations on Chai occasionally being reduced to a blink, which, consequently means I would realize I was closer to death than I realized on multiple occasions. Mind you, it is my own fault as a player for being hit at all, though this was the one thing I didn’t really like. I also think, while the game is incredibly responsive to directional input for targeting, this game needed a lock-on with how much of a precise game it is, specifically for partner attacks if they're being used to preoccupy other enemies.

That said, I’d still assert Hi-Fi Rush is very much a gamer’s game, ushering in what every game is ultimately about: pure fun. After all, if we weren’t having any of that, why even engage in these things at all, our own value-built or not? And this one was, at its core, about that. How could I not love that?

Live a Live is a scenario-based strategical RPG that lives by its twists, both mechanically and narratively. To say the least, I would assert it's an experience best done with as little knowledge going in as possible. That is, I would argue that this game is far stronger to play than to replay, but that doesn’t mean it's not going to be a title you won’t appreciate or love all the time. No, this game is a singular journey that you’re probably not going to forget - and I cannot really say I’ve played a title with such a cacophony of unique ideas intermixed into what still was a gratifying conclusion.

To be honest, it’s surprisingly tricky to even talk about this game without any conversation about said twists in full; ergo, I may as well link an accompanying blogpost I wrote about why Live a Live is special, which you can find here: https://pileofsecrets.wordpress.com/2023/03/29/live-a-live-conceptual-existence-and-self-value/

Nonetheless, if you do want to play the game in full, all you need to know is that Live a Live offers you seven chapters, corresponding to a different time period, and each has its own way of standing out. One chapter is nothing but a boss rush homage to old fighting games; another can affect one character’s build depending upon the encounters they engage with; and another may have just one major fight determined by activities the player takes on the map. The scenarios focus on a variety of characters with some subtly tied similarities, but the mystery to what actually keeps them together isn’t revealed until after they are all beaten - and that’s where I’ll stop there.

For now though, only one thing keeps them together on the surface level and its the actual fights:

Live a Live’s core RPG combat combines elements of a turn-based RPG with the kind of strategic top-down tactics chessboard designs. Positional awareness of enemy ranges and your own are key to winning these fights and each character’s specific tools distinguish themselves enough that no one lacks at least some utility in a team centric battle royale. Whilst encounters are far from what an experienced RPG player would consider the top of the genre, they remain interesting enough to keep engagements going though, by the end of a run, it can be easy to find many of them on the saturated side.

Still, with optional dungeons and an assortment of major encounters, the intrigue of what’s next or what you can find keeps you there on that initial playthrough. On replay, the incentive then becomes how to trivialize said encounters, which, to be fair, since Live a Live will be far from the most arduous challenge, is pretty self-explanatory - though it can be a bit of its own double-edged sword. There’s also a benefit of seeing how some character builds and lineups change by your investment in some over another, though, conversely, encounters aren't going to have more than the same answers you've typically already given. Therefore, I think how much you get out of Live a Live from a gameplay perspective is sort of up to you and just what clicks.

Live a Live is genuinely a classic though, if only because it will be one of those games that deviates so much from the norm with a series of ideas and content that you wouldn’t think goes together, but, by the end, any shortcomings feel secondary to a legitimate triumph of drama.

Zone of the Enders 2 is a definitive example of what a sequel ideally should be: an entry that takes all the strengths of the original work and enhances them. The first Zone of the Enders had maximized a lackluster budget with some excellent ideas, revolving around controlling a weighty mech with impressive mobility, engaging in high-speed aerial battles that’d you see out of your run-of-the-mill Gundam anime. Marketing Metal Gear Solid 2’s demo on disc ended up being an enormous boon to the sequel’s development. You see, this title is one of the hidden gems of the action genre as a result, and, after around a half-dozen playthroughs ranging from Hard mode and over, a favorite of mine.

There isn’t much to talk about with the narrative of the game, though controlling your giant robot (otherwise called an orbital frame), Jehuty, is its own thrill. Zone of the Enders 1 and 2, you see, want to help you relive that inner childlike wonder at flying mechs of mass destruction, except now you’re playing said mech and, best of all, it feels like one. Jehuty doesn’t just have weight to its attack; rather, the game emphasizes its mobility in the many battles across space stations and colonial zones. And that’s what separates what it’s like to play this game from most.

NOTE: Quick caveat to this writeup is that the PS3 HD collection is the only version I’ve played. Meaning I cannot speak for others. Moreover, my experience with some of the bonus stages is on the limited side.

Zone of the Enders 2 wastes practically no time getting started from stage-to-stage as each one throws you into the core combat of the game. While Jehuty’s movement is the essential component, the actual moveset is flexible and minimalistic on purpose. Zone of the Enders 2 is not an easy game; its harder difficulties will force you to operate at the highest gear just to survive. To balance out the sheer pace the game will go at, keeping the toolbox small allows players to think about their decisions pragmatically. It’s once they recognize how to be attentive and economical that creative play can open up.

At best, the base moves involve recognizing how to use dashes in rapid succession or what ranges you can melee or use ranged attacks. There are several tricks to keep in mind, such as canceling into burst slashes, the sheer damage your shots can do, and even how environmental knockbacks affect each encounter by the myriad of areas you’ll face enemies in, but it can be easy to see how this is still a bit basic. Thus: subweapons, the arsenal that enhances Jehuty’s combat exponentially. Each has its own utility. Geysers immobilize enemies in place and, depending upon where they’re thrown, will have a different area of effect. Decoys create a clone of Jehuty to draw enemy aggro and allow you to attack separately undetected. Halberds unleash pure destruction on anything that dares to be on Jehuty’s Y-axis. Late game, you’ll even get access to battlefield teleports and another laser weapon that will wipe practically anything off the map. To balance out their potency, subweapons typically require meter, but successful attacks and defeating enemies restores it, keeping combat as frenetic as ever. The only subweapon that requires no meter is the most useful of them all, the grab option – and said ability rivals even the original God of War entries for how important it is.

None of the game’s combat would work, however, without its enemy design. While most action games will introduce an unthreatening roster, Zone of the Enders 2’s adversaries do not mess around. Even your most regular enemy, the Raptor, can slaughter a reckless or passive player. These enemies are fast, can combo, will actively defend, and coordinate to swarm and drown Jehuty with zero mercy. I’d ascertain part of what makes them so effective is that they are given options similar to a player without giving them any sort of edge to make things too unfair. After all, Jehuty remains the fastest and strongest thing on the screen – it’s imperative that enemies can keep up the pressure but ensure enough time for players to fight back. Crowd control becomes imperative in these encounters, starting with isolating the biggest threats, methodically eliminating them, and then taking out the rest. Again, Zone of the Enders 2 is one of the fastest-paced games you’ll ever play, but it never once loses its demand for intelligent decision making because even one foe can and will make you see the game over screen. I think it speaks for this game’s credit that, for the most part, this balance is successfully maintained throughout its run time.

There are several things to say about the enemy roster specifically, though I do want to give particular mention to the Mummyheads. Although they are a support unit, they teach players the importance of allocating threats and recognizing weaknesses. Mummyheads deal an incredible amount of damage and they can repair other enemies, yet they are consistently open to grabs and being stunlocked. Sure, they are dangerous, but only if you let them be. Enemies are at their most dangerous in groups and, in my view, should be individually threatening to up the player’s game. You have all the tools to handle them; ergo, enemies should demand that back from you. And that’s why Zone of the Enders 2 succeeds in this department. With the exception of Clods and their inconsistent grab hitbox, I cannot say I truly dislike anything about how enemy design is handled.

Of course, the game has boss fights. A friend of mine once likened them to puzzles and I feel that’s the best way to look at them. They still illustrate the game’s core tenets, movement and decision-making, but openings are no longer as easily given. You may have to apply lessons you’ve learned from regular fights, forcing the bosses to set up their barriers, chain stunlocks with grabs and subweapons, and so on. What’s surprising is that these fights will change as they progress, and bosses alter their patterns or aggression. On higher difficulties, they may even restrict what sorts of openings work and how many times you can abuse them. These aspects keep the fights frenetic and demanding, though I’d be remiss if I also didn’t mention their variety. While some double-down on their puzzle aspects and some become wickedly-fast aerial dogfights, there are context sensitive interactions to find and you’d be surprised by what subweapons can work and how they can work. Except for the tedious Viola AI battle, I’d happily call this an incredibly successful lineup of how to make engaging boss battles, with the standouts being Zakat (one of the best of the genre) and the final duels with Anubis.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to some sour grapes with this game though. The most egregious problem is the game’s auto lock-in actively interfering with the camera. With how the camera centers close to Jehuty and how chaotic battles can get, it becomes a mad scramble to regain your bearings. You can toggle the lock-on off, though you may find it reapplies shortly thereafter. At worst, you’ll find yourself disoriented with your position and, especially in aerial or cramped fields, not be able to target what you need to and get stunlocked for your trouble. This is by far the most frustrating part of the game.

While encounters are varied, there are a number of gimmick setpieces that I would say fall short of their mark. The battleship section can be offset by the aforementioned camera issues, while an endgame warzone against hundreds of enemies that should be one of the game’s highlights instead turns into the world’s most disappointing escort mission as you end up defending or moving useless allies for nearly twenty minutes. I wouldn’t necessarily call these sections bad nor would I say it’s a negative that the game is willing to keep trying new things, though I believe these conceptually interesting moments have poor execution.

Nonetheless, Zone of the Enders 2 is a genuine, unheralded classic of a game. Its short runtime, demanding playstyle and tight design means replay value is fairly high, though its difficulty and particular quirks probably means it asks for a certain audience. Ultimately, it’s a fantastic title and, even if I’ve admittedly come to enjoy it less as I’ve played more, I’d wager I keep on coming back for a reason.

I won’t mince words, I am unapologetically nostalgic for this Power Rangers video game and I’m not going to go the extra mile to hide it. Legend of Dragoon is your quintessential PS1 generational RPG adventure, a four-act structured chronicling a group of misfits who band together to save the world from nefarious plots. Truth be told, when I call Legend of Dragoon’s plot a take on Power Rangers, I genuinely don’t mean that as an insult. There’s some depth of humanity, heroism, and self-sacrifice in the story, hidden behind an unfortunate series of translation errors. You have your friendship speeches, your ridiculous, slapstick nonsense, et cetera. It rules and who cares.

The real meat of the experience lies in a context-sensitive turn-based system. You see, player actions aren’t simply a menu-dependent series of decisions; you will have to press button prompts in timely fashion to execute your moves correctly. For the main attacks, additions, the idea is to increase their potency; a successfully-inputed addition means you deal more damage this time - and next time, it could do more as you level it up. And, once you unlock Dragoon forms, the more additions you complete, the more of a chance you can get to use Dragoon forms. For role-playing games whereupon menu attacks can feel like strategic-based decisions, Legend of Dragoon asks you to not get cloud-visioned and be incentivized to use your most basic tool. Eventually, you may find additions themselves surpass magic-based attacks Dragoons have in certain situations. And I think that’s one of the game’s subtle strengths: Legend of Dragoon gives you options to play with and all of them are viable in some way. Whilst being forced to use the lead, Dart, means a player can’t be as creative with their lineup to maximize creativity, there’s still plenty to appreciate between elemental attributes, recognizing each character’s particular value in set encounters, how enemy types affect combat, etc. Legend of Dragoon’s system ultimately does what any competent RPG should: It makes you think about your decisions and doesn’t necessarily limit your answers. You want a team build for beating down enemies with additions, you can. You want a team that exploits the speed stat and items, you can. You want a team that is balanced, you can. By the time you have five or six of the core team, the sky is the limit on your success. There are built in mechanics to prevent too much power, namely a set item limit of thirty-two, but an observant player will note that any struggles are probably going to come down to their own lack of engagements and failed preparation. Bosses can and will be the main obstacles, even having AI script changes and phases that may change the dynamics as they progress. Though, for my money, Legend of Dragoon succeeds in what it wants with its battle system.

There are a few barriers to entry for this game: For one thing, this title’s pacing is inevitably sluggish, even by its own generational standards. While it does feel like the party is on an adventure, progression in certain areas doesn’t yield a great amount of rewards narratively or mechanically. Battles, like I said, are engaging, but they can become monotonous with the load times between the many animations. I genuinely don’t think there is a single battle, from the start to the result screen, that is capable of lasting under 30 seconds, most of it being wait time. This may not seem like a big deal and it's excusable for the hardware, but, if you’re a bit on the inpatient side, this can be noticeable. While the game does kick up with its pace and battles as it goes on and side missions (namely optional battles, some of the best of the game) open up later, the main story may not grip most for the first two discs - possibly in its entirety. Whilst none of the party are uninteresting (one of the leads is quite the opposite), one later addition feels like an obligatory replacement with a forced arc to just be there. I don’t think Legend of Dragoon’s pacing is inherently negative of the sort personally, but I can see a number finding it tedious.

That said, this game was extremely precious to me and my younger days. As an adult, I appreciate it for what it was. As good as my memory said? I wouldn’t say that, but it’s charming, unique, and entirely itself the whole way through. I remember it for a reason.