The artistic direction of this game immediately caught my attention: a reinterpretation of 80s science fiction comic books in the style of "heavy metal." If I were pretentious, I would mention well-known illustrators, but my middle-class, uncultivated side means I only know this aesthetic through the "major boobage" episode of South Park released in 2008.

As has been said many times before, this game is a rare blend of genres: action gameplay with ranking like Devil May Cry, tricks and collectibles akin to Tony Hawk Pro Skater, and slow-motion action scenes reminiscent of Max Payne. Given its mixture of genres, the developers reached a compromise : no balance bar for slides and automatic aiming. Although the Tony Hawk Pro Skater player within me somewhat craves the thrill of endless sliding and the impossibility of crashing to the ground, the game would be even more challenging than it already is.

The career mode left me somewhat skeptical: what is the goal of Rollerdrome? To kill enemies as quickly as possible? To perform the most stylish tricks? To survive? To achieve a high score, one must do a bit of everything simultaneously, constantly being in a state of tension.

In my opinion, the game would benefit from focusing more on the survival aspect of its character. It seems absurd that, for example, one can successfully collect all 5 coins, die, and still have that objective achieved. Dying should be more punitive. As survival is not necessary for fulfilling objectives, players end up replaying the same arenas multiple times with the goal of completing different objectives each time. This fragmentation is detrimental to the career mode. Instead of simply rewarding the player who manages in one run to 1. Survive, 2. Kill efficiently, and 3. Perform the most tricks, it encourages players to choose between these three objectives, which is a shame.

However, I believe the game excels in progressing the player, introducing them to new playstyles. Players gradually learn new skills and the use of new weapons. The level objectives serve to advance us. Some may argue that the game guides the player too much, but in my opinion, Rollerdrome must cater to two types of players: those who want to complete the career mode and those completionists who aim for an "S" tier in every level. The developers have managed to accommodate both types of players quite well.

I often read that the game is "too short" and "doesn't fully exploit its potential." I partially agree. More than its short lifespan, it's the repetition that can become tiresome. For example, the first arena introduces 2 types of enemies (melee guy and sniper girl), the second introduces the rocket launcher guy, and so on. Each level adds a new enemy type on top of the previous ones. It's important to remember that this game was made by a small team of 44 people. The focus (and thankfully so) was on creating a unique gameplay mechanic. I prefer this to a game that lasts over 50 hours but recycles what has already been done in the past.

I really hope there will be a sequel or DLC for Rollerdrome. I would love to have more boss fights or even engage in a duel with an opponent.

Street of Rage left a mark on me right from the title screen when I saw that the composer of the music (Yuzo Koshiro) was credited upfront. It makes you wonder if the game itself is just an excuse to listen to his absolutely incredible house music. 'The Attack of the Barbarian' and 'Beatnik on the Ship' are truly little wonders of the genre.

Even though I'm not an expert on Mega Drive games, I did check out all the games in the Mega Drive Classics pack, and I have to admit the visuals are impressive. All the backgrounds are remarkably animated. Obviously, it’s a bit of a shame that the background is 'essentially decorative.' I would have liked more background/action interaction like the metal press in Stage 6.

Now, there is also the game itself, and I immediately understood why I have always been more of a Nintendo player than a Sega player: it's excessively difficult. While I got through the first half of the game without too much trouble, the second half is really tough (and I know very well that SOR 1 is far from the most difficult game on the Mega Drive). I had to use save states from level 6 onward to reach the final boss without ever managing to defeat him.

It’s clearly not the fault of this game, but the inability to save or have a password system is definitely a barrier for me. I find it difficult to adapt to this "arcade gamer but on console mentality". Why are the console versions of this type of game harder to finish than the original arcade game? Were the developers of the time afraid that console players would acquire so much skill at home that they would be able to beat the arcade machine with a single coin?

If you have any recommendations for games of this kind that might be more accessible, I’m interested. I like to challenge myself, but '3 lives, 3 continues, no password = no thanks.'

Everything in this game could fall into the /r/oddlysatisfying category: its universe, its items, the sounds (we're talking 8-bit ASMR), and we find ourselves strangely comfortably settled in this damp cave filled with neon animals. Its graphics are very close to Environmental Station Alpha with added scanlines (which, for once, bring something interesting graphically).

The key to a successful metroidvania: managing readability on multiple levels. Each screen poses 3 questions: 1. Can I traverse this obstacle? 2. I can't traverse this obstacle yet; I need an upgrade to progress in the game. 3. I can't traverse this obstacle yet, and I will get an optional reward. In this sense, Animal Well perfectly succeeds in its level design and progression.

We can also commend the fact that the game's creator took into account what Hollow Knight brought to the genre in a positive way (the map system, what a joy) and in a negative way (long and frequent run-backs are avoided here).

Animal Well has perfectly accomplished its mission as a metroidvania: annoying me just enough and wonderfully managing its 'EUREKA, let's do this' moments.

Even though the combat aspect is absent, the game still requires some skills. The hunting scene with the dog (or cat?) is particularly memorable. I admit having experienced some frustrations in certain passages that require a lot of item swapping. For some passages, the simplest solution is to open the inventory (which pauses the game) to select your item. This solution is far from elegant and somewhat disrupts the game's rhythm.

Animal Well is a little feat of craftsmanship from a single mind, and what a mind. Bravo Billy Basso, bravo.

My two brain hemispheres are arguing about this game: it is incredibly well done and has incredibly frustrated me. Artistically, the mix between the classic story of feudal Japan and the appearance of Lovecraftian demons is really successful. The very orchestral music is a sort of Shadow of the Colossus soundtrack ahead of its time. All the cutscenes are honestly impressive for a game from 2001. There is great mastery of camera movements, which makes the final sequence particularly impressive. The bosses, the enemies, the NPCs, everything is really well done and memorable. I am particularly fond of the NPC who leads you into enemy arenas, a sort of spider-like old man who drops from the ceiling.

The problem is that once you've played Devil May Cry (which came out 8 months later), Onimusha inevitably feels a bit limited in terms of combat. The weapon switch "in combat" is still completely incomprehensible to me (sometimes you can, sometimes you can't), which means you have to go through the "start" menu, breaking the flow of the combat. The lock-on system is totally unclear. Like in DMC and many games of that era, the changes in fixed camera angles are incredibly frustrating. Good luck parrying an attack from an off-screen enemy. It's only for the final boss that the camera is completely fixed. As a result, it feels like the final boss of a shoot 'em up, and therefore, it's really good.

It's hard for me to fully recommend it. I also admit that I got an "A" ranking on my first run, so I think objectively it deserves a chance. Regarding its remaster: it's a minimum service, but it suits me well. I appreciate being able to play it with Japanese dialogues and in 4:3.

Beautiful world. Beautiful soundtrack. Intensive yet saisfying boss combat. A bit too short and linear.

I spent 10 hours in the game to come to the conclusion that OOT is amazing but that I won't be able to fully appreciate it by playing it 'handheld' on the 3DS. The immersion doesn't quite work for me, especially in the dungeons where I find the game's readability difficult on such a small screen. I imagine that if you've played the original, playing it in handheld mode is a pleasant extension of the experience, a way to rediscover it. In my case, I would just like to experience it in a way close to the original experience (if such a thing exists). Like a good snob, I think I'll play it on the original hardware at 20 fps.

I've always had a penchant for games based on 'mini-games.' RHM is a good compromise between a Wario Ware and a musical game like 'Dance Dance Revolution' or even 'Guitar Hero.'

I have also a certain admiration for developers who create a particular world, characters, game rules, and even a tutorial so that the player ultimately spends less than 2 minutes there. Moreover, even though the scenery constantly changes (except for certain come-backs and remixes), we almost always do the same thing: learn via a tutorial 2 to 3 rhythm patterns that we execute directly afterward. Yet, this 'simple' mission is paradoxically very restful and calming. The further we advance in the mini-games, the more we learn to listen more attentively. The game demands a short but intense minute of attention. Fair enough. RHM falls into this category where one can (and should) play a maximum of 15 minutes per day, giving the illusion of progress in a domain (here, rhythm).

I was particularly a fan of the remix passages where different mini-games are mixed. There's an element of surprise that requires considerable responsiveness. I would have hoped for more moments like that.

However, this game has led me to deep reflections on video games in general. Is a good game, of action for example, not simply a game that is well-paced? a certain rhythm ? I firmly believe that a good game also necessarily has a good flow. RHM confirms the interesting thought of Matthew Matosis, who argues that Audio Cues are absolutely crucial in a good game as humans react more quickly to auditory stimuli than visual ones. Even if RHM is much simpler than a complex action game (here, pressing one button is enough in the majority of cases), this kind of game confirms this theory: a good game doesn't use audio cues as the 'moment to press the button' but as hints for an action that is about to happen. If you get into the 'flow,' you can react extremely precisely. A bad drummer looks at the metronome, the good one might just close his eyes.

Anyway, I'm glad I managed to finish the game at least. Who knows, it's likely that one day, old age will prevent me from playing this kind of game. Either because my hearing will be completely impaired, or because my arthritic hands won't be able to keep up with the pace.

"Okay grandpa, thanks for your theories, it's time to go to bed."

Children of the Sun embodies everything I love and expect in an indie game: a strong aesthetic choice that perfectly complements unique gameplay. Nothing more, nothing less. Here, it's the story of a perfect revenge: a single bullet (well, per level) to take down a cult leader.

The artistic direction is truly successful: a goth girl lost in the middle of deep America, a story that is fragmented into short sequences, and an absolutely incredible sound atmosphere. Everything is played on instruments: the impact of the bullet is a cymbal crash, and the girl's movement is depicted with rapid notes on a guitar (probably baritone). I recommend to the to the musician (Adian Baker) behind the music and the sound ambiance. It's almost as heavy as the OST of the first season of True Detective or the theme of Tristram from Diablo 1.

It's especially the tightly knit (not to say limited) gameplay that adds to its appeal. Everything is played with the mouse only. Children of the Sun combines puzzle gaming with the adrenaline of a shooter. The satisfaction of finally finishing certain levels is incredible. The player's frustration is, in my opinion, perfectly managed: it's neither too easy nor too complicated. René Rother gradually introduces a gameplay grammar that builds up without ever becoming overwhelming. You gradually become a kind of psychopath scanning the sky for birds to explode, scrutinizing every car, and blowing up NPCs' vital parts.

About 6 hours of tension consumed in small slices. I hope for a sequel!

for a standard 25hrs playthrough, keep in my mind you will :
- listen to NPCs (10hrs)
- follow NPCS (10hrs)
- Drive wih NPCS (3hrs)
- Do actual gaming actions (2hrs)

Is a game that is 'addictive and makes you lose track of time' necessarily a good game? I'm really not sure.

such a relief to play games like that when you played too many "serious"game

Half good : the world, the characters, the music,
half meh : boring combats, weebs vibe that makes me unconfortable

What an addition to a almost perfect game. Laurence the 1st vicar was way tooo frustating tho