Over the entire span of 2022, I have been playing Outer Wilds in small bites, only now to finally come back to it after a long hiatus and finally beat it and uh... yeah. It's kind of a masterpiece.

I mean it. This is one of those games where you hear nothing but the most high praise surrounding it. A lot of times, that can damage the experience for newcomers. After all, high expectations and excitement can lead to high disappointment. But this is, sincerely, one of those games where I was not let down at all.

I could tell you in multiple paragraphs how this game is one of the most immersive experiences I've ever had in gaming, or how exploration is immensely satisfying, or how the game's freedom allows for everyone to have their own personal journey through this game and so on and so forth... but much better people have explained those things in detail alongside just the whole game's design and philosophies.

But let me say this, and I think this is truly the crux of why this game is such a masterpiece to me. Every time you play a game, the most you can hope for is that it has that one "moment." That point in your playthrough that you'll look back on even after you're done and say, "that was a great game." A whole heap of games can never craft that moment, and to achieve it even once is a sign of skill and vision.

Outer Wilds, however, is a game filled to the brim with those defined moments and they're all the more impactful, and emotional, because it's all there for you to find as soon you take off on your ship. It's a self-driven experience where every step and observation is a moment that is as equally crafted on the game's part as it is by yourself.

Essays could be written on what makes this game work, but it's the heart, the feeling, of Outer Wilds that makes it such an unforgettable, nigh almost flawless, experience.

The final frontier

Many people wish they could forget the game to enjoy it once again, but I don't believe the game's appeal dissapears after just one time. The travelers will still be there.

I was this close of dropping it in more than one occasion, due to some obtuse as hell puzzles and conditions. I'm glad I didn't, because now my future second playthrough will be more manageable, more focused on the stuff that hit me: the connection, through music or tangled languages in walls.

The physics are omnipresent, space is insurmountable and worlds hold strange secrets. Whenever you may be lost, you can always tune to any planet and listen to someone. You'll talk to them, listen to a banjo 10k miles away from you, and you'll know you're not alone.

Outer wilds invites you to look directly into the uncertainty of the future and to embrace it with open arms. Through that leap, you'll find that you're met with a warm hug.



What if life goes to waste? Is nothing worth it? Will anyone remember me in the future at all? Outer Wilds is unrivalled in beauty, heart and growth, asking of you to re-evaluate what you think happens after death. Through the clever archeological framing of the end of the world, the future seems less like a fading cry for help, and more a warm and loving goodbye. That to me; is Outer Wilds. An outstanding love for the world, the past, the present and the future. A sweet serenade and a kiss goodnight as the world shuts its eyes and fades away. It is the collection of every human lifetime focused into a faint "Hi, I existed here. Remember me, if you will!".

The first time you hear the music of the universe in Outer wilds will stick with you for a lifetime. And the last time, I am certain will stick with me and my own through generations. I would have not had it any other way than to have met with Outer Wilds in such a difficult and trying time in my life. As the 20 hours of play and story left me a happier, and braver person, I implore that you try Outer Wilds for yourself, as words alone cannot convey the importance of experiencing this world on your own. Musically, visually, and thematically, Outer Wilds rivals the greatest of the great, and is haunting, heartbreaking and tear-jerkingly joyous in electrical fanfare as you dance on the ridge of the apocalypse.

An answer I'd accept for "what is the best Nintendo game of the 2010s," of which I think the only real competition is Breath of the Wild, and I'd probably take Pocket Card Jockey over BOTW at this point. See, I love solitaire. A lot. And not only is this game an absolutely fantastic version of solitaire, it also contains some of the best writing that's ever been in a Nintendo game of deeply absurd stories. Direly undersung. One day they'll put that iOS one on the Switch and I'll scream to death, come back to life, and play the shit out of it, much like my homie the Pocket Card Jockey does.

I remember playing this as a demo disc that came with an old Compaq tower and loving it. Imagine my surprise to find out that not only does it have several more maps, but also holds up as a slim, but pretty delightful arcade racer.

I don’t know if it is my nostalgia, but Moto just has a vibe. From the tracks to the music to the way the engines rev, it has a pretty distinct identity. And a fun one at that, spanning both the street and dirt races.

One of the dirt races is across the top of the Great Wall of China. Enough said.

A game that is as stressful as it is charming, Pikmin captures a feeling of struggling for survival in a hostile world in such a unique, simple, and rewarding fashion. You'll fail a lot at first, learning what the pikmin are good at, what they're bad at, and how to overcome new difficulties while balancing the time limit and planning out your routes in advance. Once you finally have a grasp on things, you'll encounter new challenges, overlapping puzzles, and even more dangerous hazards. In time you'll conquer these as well, and if you've learned quickly enough, you may just reach the ending alive!

And immediately play it all over again.

Pikmin really is at its best when you're competing with yourself, trying to get the most parts in the least amount of days, laughing in the face of what once seemed insurmountable. Yet even when you feel like the king of the world, that melancholic tone and the tense nature of the time limit is never missing.

Kirby Air Ride earned critical disdain at release. it just wasn't good at what it was expected to do. it ended up as a cult classic for its buried brilliance. in that, there's a lesson to learn;
if a game mode goes hard, dont bury it under/with other garbage unless you have soda drinker pro/glittermitten grove energy.
Kirby Air Ride fails itself by improperly acknowledging the most admirable part of the game. it's a misguided game that presents itself as something it never was, and overshadows its true genius in the process.

if i was new to Kirby Air Ride, i would have lot of high expectations. this game has kirby, and i love kirby. i got this game when i was younger because it was the only kirby game available on gamecube. it's also directed by masahiro sakurai. to this day, he has never missed...well, except for smash tour...and a lot in this game.
i would also think i'd be getting into a racing game. if i really wanted a racing game, i'd be in for a massive disappointment.

the titular mode, air ride, is pretty bad. if you want a non-traditional racing game on your gc, go play sonic riders or f-zero gx over this. the game's central mechanic (and only mechanic) is turning your brakes for almost all the vehicles in this game into a charged boost. in a standard race, it just feels like im yanking around my car to get tiny moments of speed. jerky janky. according to his game concepts video on this, he wanted to make a unique form of drifting. his chimera of simplicity in boosting and breaking makes the drift lose my favorite piece: the preservation of momentum. drifting in other games lets you give up control and just flow at a high speed through a turn. in the air ride mode, drift doesnt just sacrifice the flow for control; it is your only trick that you can use. you're pulling back on every curve that feels less like pulling a slingshot and more like you're some poor schmuck in a wwe match bouncing off ropes. if you mess up and run into a wall, the game drags you along by the collar into that lame feel anyways. you just get bounced back in the general direction you need to go with no loss in momentum. the driving is just too oversimple and unsatisfying.
the tracks dont help at all. awkward annoyances galore. claustrophobic corridors, invisible walls, and opaque gimmicks plague this game. celestial valley and frozen hillside were the only levels that felt cohesive and competent. the rest are only enjoyable if you're chipping away at them in time trials.
the third strike against this mode are the awful abilities. air ride's abilities are the worst items ive personally experienced in any racing game. half are stubby and only useful when you were about to pass someone anyways. some require you to hit the breakboost button and ruin your flow. plasma is just overpowered in every race and not even satisfying to build up. the last two make your machine choice irrelevant. also fuck the mic im just trying to race goddammit
strike out for this mode. nothing is fun about plain ol racing in this game, unless...

top ride is still racing, but something is clearly better here. it's the most ignored part of this game but the mode is put together far better than air ride. the camera angle works better with the mechanics and it allows for some havoc to develop. there's some seriously underwhelming side game energy here from the limited choices, making it all too soft, but at least theres faint fun to be had. this mode mightve been pretty solid with some more content, and maybe it wouldve been cooler if it was introduced as a side mode in another kirby game. as is, top ride is a pop fly and the 2nd out.

nothing is fun about plain ol racing in this game, unless...it's a quick lap you didnt even know was going to be happening. city trial is unrefined chaotic bliss delegated to the bottom of the game's menu. pretty much everyone else i knew who grew up with this game had the exact same experience as me, which is city trial and nothing else. this game mode singlehandedly sustains the admiration that props this game up as a gamecube gem. twisted metal, cel damage, and wreckfest can all eat their puny hearts out because this is the best vehicular party game you're getting.
your goal in city trial: scavenge a vehicle, gather all sorts of stat stuffs, and avoid all of the batshit that the world throws at you. after all that, pray that you got yourself dressed for the right event, because thats how you win.
the mode even makes the baffling control decisions make sense. the simple driving mechanics actually work here because they almost feel made for an open area. you can turn in all directions pretty quickly and get a boost when you figure out your direction. it's also pretty easy to figure out exactly what a vehicle is good at when you find one because there arent many functions to test.
the abilities mesh well with the open world environment, as you're a lot more likely to be running into others, wanting a temporary new movement option, dodging spark, or mic lol.
i refuse to believe the mechanics werent designed or at least predominantly balanced around this mode.
every part of the way is fun. slowly building your character, getting destroyed by some gimmick, or even just vibing around the city are all fun. this is one of the few games where it's pure joy in the mayhem even when my luck isnt so great. everything that happens is so absurd and sudden that even when im getting screwed over, the fun overtakes it all. city trial pulls off a home run for the game, bringing it all together into something good.

there seems to be a problem with letting sakurai's concept shine. he gave this idea another go, but it got stuck on the 3ds with no online play and no ability to interact with other players on the map. it didnt work as well in smash bros, where the game is already a frenzy and this expanded game mode takes away from that a little bit, but it's still a blast even as a fighting game.
there have been indie homages to all sorts of niche game concepts, but i haven't seen one for air ride yet. it's only a matter of time until that day and i cant wait. the concept deserves a full game's focus. until then, i'm totally down to play some city trial via dolphin's netplay. shoot me a message in my usual places and let's get crackin.

Passable as a dumb action game, but misguided in every other aspect, and even the things it does well Uncharted does many times better.

Some incomprehensible writing choices for an adventure game. The message it screams at you at every turn is all you will get if you dare to go on a quest is pain, misery, and death. Where Uncharted offers genuine thrills and humanism, Tomb Raider has nothing but relentless bleakness, torture porn, and the worst edgy grimdark drivel.

Where the writing isn't outright shitty, it's so boring and standard you kind of start to pine for the grimdark edginess. I can't remember a game where i was less interested in the central conflict, lore, any of the characters, collectibles, or anything adorning the gameplay loop.

The treatment of Lara is fucking abhorent, I'm frankly shocked that two women participated in writing this piece of shit. The sleaziest slasher directors have more respect for their female characters. From the very first scene this game is all about torturing Lara as much as possible, stripping her of all powers, and making her crawl through the dirt in a supposed empowerment narrative. What a scam.

The gameplay would possibly be something I could mildly praise, if it wasn't constantly interrupted by an endless barrage of quick time events, scripted scenes, cutscenes, tutorials etc. The game never gets any rhythm going, doesn't let you explore, fully enjoy any scene or set piece or present you with anything more substantial than bite-sized challenges.

All you get to do in Tomb Raider is sit through a deeply misogynistic, desaturated, miserable mid-00s style 'thriller' while occasionally pushing a button or two, and engaging in all the worst AAA games of that period had to offer - from throwaway tacked on 'RPG' mechanics to stale cover shooter gunplay.

It's hard to describe the feelings of awe you get while going through this game without spoiling, and it's even harder to describe how it feels to finish it, but I genuinely believe this game is the prime example of an "Adventure game", you get surprised by every discovery, you analyze the information you gather, you learn from what the game teaches you, you get soothed by its music, or get scared shitless by... if you know, you know, and most importantly, you never get tired of going through its world, but all good things have to reach an end at some point, but if by that end I get teary eyed thinking about the experience for a long while, then it's for sure a game I can implore anyone to give a shot, you won't regret it.

There's this feeling you sometimes get when looking back on something. Maybe its a fond memory, like the last happy memory you have of a relative before they died. Peeking back into a time more infinite in potency than you would've thought. It just pulls out the most wistful of emotions in you. This feeling of being on the brink of weeping, just because of how meaningful it has become. Yeah. This game does that for me.

I think this game altered the way I lived my life. It's such a transcendent piece of art that refitted my own interpretation of my place in the universe. I was this really boxed in person, really pushing away most people. And then, on an whim, I played this. And the worst part of it all, is that I'll never get the chance to play it again; it'll never be the same as that first playthrough. All I can do is fondly look back, and feel the tears rolling.

Play it.