This game is half as smart as it thinks it is, and luckily enough, that's still pretty smart.

Replaying this for the third time, and continuously in awe of what an achievement The Witcher III remains. CD Projekt Red take a genre that was already becoming tired (AAA open world RPGs) and simply applies good taste, thoughtful design and good writing.

Every inch of this game feels interconnected and alive. Where other games ask you to flit across their maps between objectives, The Witcher III turns the smallest locations into vivid, unique worlds of their own with unique characters, dramas and problems. Every village or neighborhood becomes a premise unto itself, spiraling into an engrossing series of interactions, exploration and side-quests.

Above all else, this game's world is so captivatingly realized that everything it does, from the mundane to the blockbuster thrills, is nothing short of entrancing.

TF2 Scout is still my life role model.

Playing a game this intricate, demanding and yet unabashedly puerile, is like doing engineering homework in the bathroom of a Nine Inch Nails show in between bumps of coke. Nothing about this game should work. And yet, it does, damn near perfectly.

In many ways, it really is the best iteration of the “Bethesda” style of game. The point of those quotation marks isn’t sarcasm, but an acknowledgement that the scope of what constitutes a Bethesda game feels very small in comparison to the games that have released between 2011’s Skyrim and 2023.

What Starfield focuses on —space exploration and flexible roleplay—it mostly excels at. But that focus is so narrow, and this game is very vast. Ultimately it’s a massive game with hundreds of planets, characters, gear items, and quests, only 3-4 of each truly memorable.

Bethesda had to choose between making a traditional game or one of unmatched scope. It oddly chose both, so you get a very authentically, charmingly crafted game, stretched over a canvas too broad.

It is frequently charming and immersive and when it clicks, I’ve found myself playing for hours on end. And then when that moment ends, I’m trapped in a game I just tolerate, hoping I find a character, location or quest, capable of making me feel that again.

This was the beginning of the end for Todd Howard now that I really thing about it

The gameplay is damn near perfect, but in exchange for twice the spidermans we get half the writing quality of the original.

But at the end of the day, it really made me feel like Spiderman 2.

Phenomenal world-building, a world-class soundtrack, and a rapturously engaging combat system. It falls just shy of greatness, with a premise that outshines its own execution by a hair, and a handful of rough edges. There's some dodgy side quests, a somewhat lifeless world, and dialogue that never quite sells itself as well as it could.

Loved the game, but it pains me to acknowledge that this game had all the pieces of an all-time classic, had it been put together just slightly differently.

The wonder of Cyberpunk 2077 was seeing a AAA game experiment with the actual format of videogame storytelling so ambitiously, at a time where every other blockbuster studio pursued refining the same "third-person cinematic" formula. Did it nail the landing? Not entirely, but it was a wonderful experiment all the same.

Phantom Liberty declares: the experiment is over. This is it. A game far more interested in seeing what it can do with videogames as a format, executing each concept and beat to near-perfection. When I played this, I didn't think "oh Cyberpunk is so back," I thought: "Holy shit, videogames are so back." It nails the experimental bits. It nails the Hollywood bits. And every second of it is entrancing.

Phantom Liberty feels like a taste of the future, not because of the insane Path Traced lightings, or facial animations, or gorgeous visuals, but because it is such a meticulous and lavish artistic experience at the same time, that you're left in awe that anyone had the audacity to make this at all.

And then you remember it's just an expansion pack. Awe inspiring stuff.

Forget about Boomer Shooters. This is a Zoomer Shooter. And it fucking slaps.

Storytelling is phenomenal. Visual presentation is among the best to be found on a console, if not the best. Combat is a bit conventional and occasionally repetitive, and enemy design isn't particularly strong, but the polish and flourish applied does a lot of heavy lifting. It always looks and feels excellent. The open world is a bit lifeless, very much in the Ubisoft tradition of "empty world with lots of icons," but it looks damn gorgeous while it's at that. This game's raw style is the main attraction.

If you want to show off your sick new PS5, this is probably the game to do it.

Miyazaki made the anti-Dark Souls, a game that rejects its own heritage while delivering a distinctly Japanese historical-fiction and social commentary in glorious fashion. If Bloodborne wasn't proof enough that the man is an auteur, this is it. Throw in the greatest melee combat system ever put in a game, and this is an instant classic.

What if Sicario were actually bad and also all the gameplay involved was walking forward and shooting enemies directly in front of you? Infinity Ward probably never asked this question, but through sheer clumsiness, they've answered it with a completely lifeless, plastic take on Call of Duty, made all the worse for its self-seriousness.

Throw a grouchy aging Slavic man into a new country, a blend of France, Spain and Disneyland and watch him grimace his way through a delightfully fun, humorous and violent adventure. The Witcher III's best bits, the exploration, the detective-work, and the monster killing, are all honed to their best here.

The main game's grim dark fantasy is replaced by palace intrigue, vineyard industry politics, and vampires. It’s so wildly out of left field for a game like The Witcher III that it’s all the more breathtaking how killer the execution is.

Guerilla have made a superior Ubisoft game. It's beautiful, polished and a paper thin experience that takes itself deathly seriously while delivering story beats and dialogue that would make Michael Bay wince. Every conversation has a dialogue wheel which has zero effect on the game, every item has encyclopedic RPG stat bloat and every mile of the map is blotted out with icons of endlessly forgettable activities. Horizon Zero Dawn is the best version of the worst kind of game.