110 reviews liked by azurre


I kept trying to add this to the appropriate wikipedia article but they blockd me from editing it for some reason.....

This review contains spoilers

Downpour is… difficult for me to make heads or tails of. At one end it’s an extremely expansive addition to Rain World’s universe in continuity, gameplay, causing the fandom to utterly erupt in size. In essence, Downpour IS Rain World now; a vast majority of fan content now revolves around the material it created, and by sheer volume it is far larger than its base components. Considering its origins as a fan mod, it’s extremely impressive how it garnered such acclaim and popularity, and I think the ambition to create something so transformative and wide in scope is to be lauded. Yet, I’m left with something that leaves me personally ambivalent. What is shown as a collection of 5 interwoven campaigns advertised as one cohesive story feels much more disjointed on a more thematic level, failing to match the base game’s marriage of gameplay design and story.

What I did love is how it improved my skills in this game, giving me far better appreciation for the skill ceiling, technical moves, and combat the game features. I do think the general emphasis on the DLC slugs’ combat abilities really helps. Each slugcat provides a unique gameplay twist, while also generally being at least somewhat justifiable in a way that I don’t think affects the game’s harsh atmosphere that much (except for Saint). I do think the highlights here in terms of additions are the new regions; they are exceptionally well done aesthetically and do fit in well, how they shift and deteriorate as time passes in the world per campaigns. Particular highlights include Outer Expanse, a beautiful region depicting the home of the slugcats seen in Survivor’s intro, Looks to the Moon in Spearmaster’s campaign, providing a glimpse of her facility, in full glory but on the precipice of collapse, and Silent Construct, an amalgamation of all of Five Pebbles’ can components after his sacrifice leaving a dead, metallic, cold superstructure.

I’m less keen on the new enemies; overall they’re generally underutilized or not very unique compared to the scugs. Those that are unique are rare, and the rest can essentially boil down to “what if we made a Red Lizard but slow, clumsy and caramel, or a Centipede that could swim in water”, or most egregiously, a Vulture with insta-kill beaks and lasers that feels way overtuned. Compared to the rest of the game’s mechanical additions it doesn’t really have as much care put into it, but even still then can provide unique spins in encounters, and Rain World’s gameplay loop is still as fresh as ever.

The campaigns themselves are… interesting. I think all of them are fun and bring something unique, but there’s always something major that impacts my enjoyment of them. Gourmand is probably the most untouched of the new campaigns, being very similar to Survivor’s except for a different final region and ending, with an emphasis on movement tricks, damage, and food. It’s not a very lore-intensive campaign which makes it more of a fun ride, though I’d argue the tonal shift of appreciating life feels a bit discordant with how the game plays and the base game’s theming in making the cycles painful directly through the punishing gameplay (and Gourmand’s spawns are harder than Survivor’s). I also don’t love the crafting system; some of the pairings are esoteric and others absurdly broken (ex. making explosive spears and what essentially amounts to black hole bombs). Overall, Gourmand was fun but not particularly deep or thought-provoking.

I think Artificer is overall the best campaign; a treatise on the consumption of revenge and how it can destroy you, and how even trying to fully resolve your trauma may not be possible. I think it also does the best of marrying motivations; Five Pebbles is annoyed of scavengers infesting his can, and they killed your slugpups. The fact deaths aren’t that punishing for the main route and that you’re always at negative reputation means combat with scavs can be fully indulged, which though at times is excessive is also very enjoyable. With your parry, stun and jump abilities, it’s Rain World combat at its most thrilling. I do wish grabbing scavenger bodies and using their karma to pass gates was more utilized, as the most-traveled route is almost always karma 1 doors. I think the worst thing about this campaign is that sometimes the scav kill squad spawns are absolutely absurd, as in “I can’t get to the next room because their corpses are stuffing the pipes” levels of bad. I’m also not in love with its last set piece, a combat gauntlet leading to a final boss. I really don’t think RW’s gameplay philosophy really works with boss fights, given you die in one hit while the boss must be hit several times, and the litany of spears. I had to cheese it to win. Still, I think this is the best part of the DLC overall, having better thematic resonance than the other DLC campaigns and the most unique spin on RW’s gameplay. Does it play like base RW? No, but it’s something unique, enjoyable and exemplifies one of the game’s oft-underrated traits.

Spearmaster’s campaign is probably the most frustrating; it’s the only one where the slugcat’s gimmicks are hampered halfway through (carrying a pearl that you can’t store as you don’t have a mouth, meaning you lose dual spears). I had passages that allowed me to skip the backtracking, but if you don’t, I’d imagine that traversing with said pearl is an utter slog given if you lose it, you have to redo the cycle again. It’s a shame too, considering that it is by far the most expansive from a world-building perspective, as you’re sent by 2 iterators as a last-ditch effort to prevent FP from collapsing Moon’s can via water consumption. I like the idea behind expanding the iterators here and it generally works, but their tone feels distinctly emotional as opposed to their detachment in the base game (even in logs discussing the same events). Something about the way they’re written here just doesn’t feel right to me, I don’t know, but I’m not the only one who’s noticed judging by other reviews. However, exploring Looks to the Moon was wonderful; it’s aesthetically gorgeous, the music is incredible, and her final farewell in the wake of your failure to stop FP was my favorite bit of writing from the DLC and a nice end point for the prequel campaigns.

Rivulet is solid, but its short length gives it very little impact. I think they’re fun to play overall due to their extreme movement, much like Artificer is best at exemplifying the game’s combat. Though it’s not perfect, I do like what’s done here narratively, as Five Pebbles tries his best to make up for what he did to Moon by entrusting you with delivering his last power source to her, as the Rot has fully consumed him. I kind of just wish there was more to it, the gimmicks make the campaign way easier in the second half and it sort of just speeds by. I also do find Riv probably the least detached in terms of their goal, here it kind of just feels like Rivulet is helping make amends between FP and LTTM for the sake of an adventure, to the point Moon questions why you even helped her if you return to a completed save file.

Saint is ultimately my least favorite campaign, and it’s unfortunate, because it’s the most interesting of the bunch, providing an coda to the game’s world and characters. Taking place far in the future, I do love how transformative it is. Seeing the world suffer from an entropic cold that slowly saps Saint’s energy and makes the campaign more visually hostile is novel, as almost everything is frozen over. Five Pebbles is now in ruin, the rot and lack of power leading to his collapse. That all too familiar pathway from Chimney Canopy to the Wall being just gone made it really set in for me. I wish I could heap praise onto it; I saw many people hype up the campaign as the best part of the DLC, but Saint is where DP’s cracks really show.

To start with, Saint’s gameplay never really becomes enjoyable to me. The tougher spawns make the first half of the campaign tedious, where you have practically no self-defense. You’d think the ice age would lead to a more quiet, solemn campaign as the fauna struggle to adapt, but I digress. The tongue is a nice ability that opens up traversal, but compared to other scugs’ movement options, it just feels like a slightly altered version of grappling worms. Once reaching all the echoes, you’re given the ability to ascend enemies and fly on a shared recharge. Even disregarding how this trivializes every enemy in the overworld due to it being an instant kill, it’s finicky to control and makes the tongue kind of moot. While many of Downpour’s scugs have abilities that may not necessarily jive well with the game’s built-in difficulty and themes, they felt like a somewhat reasonable adaptation. Having ascension powers felt like a huge thematic deviation gameplay-wise from the base game given your decentering in the narrative and environment, and a deviation thematically from the DLC which is generally far more pessimistic with regards to ascension.

I’m also not sure about the echo dialogue changes and the anthropomorphizing of the Void Sea; it seems to have physically expanded upward with malicious intent, but on the other hand you’re ascending animals left and right using knowledge from Echoes that have turned on the belief system that got them there. It just feels very dissonant with both the base game’s ideas of escaping the cycles within a world you fundamentally can’t change, that is as it is, and DP’s favoring of life’s value even amidst its cyclical nature. I think it would’ve been fine if the game was being more explicit regarding ascension and enacting that onto others, or adding ambiguity if it was at least willing to engage the topic and its morality. Here you have a perfect chance with Five Pebbles and Looks to the Moon, both run down due to their circumstances and mistakes, but perhaps learning the value of life after going through much hardship, as DP seems to lean. Unfortunately, I feel the DLC doesn’t take this opportunity; they remain noncognizant of your ascension abilities, dying in silence. I understand FP’s reactions given his state, but even LTTM’s overseers nor her facility even acknowledge her passing, a disappointing deviation from their reactivity in the base game. As such the actual process of ascending them personally just felt hollow.

Something I noticed in general is that despite Downpour’s general turn in direction to making the slugcats extremely important to the narrative and our view of the world, I feel it’s still missing some of the reactivity of the original. There’s alternate endings, but their execution is lacking, most notably with the Outer Expanse endings available for Monk and Survivor. Instead of ascending, they find their home, the former reuniting with the latter when going to OE. Now, though I’m indecisive on these endings (the dream sequences imply they’ve given up seeing their family, but at the same time they also did assume that they had ascended), my biggest gripe is that Monk’s version always leads to them meeting up with their sibling, even if you ascended Survivor. I’m not sure why this permutation wasn’t considered, it feels incredibly jarring and could’ve led to something really emotional. Similarly, Moon’s overseers don’t really give a shit if you ascend her as Saint.

Unfortunately, the final region Rubicon just sucks. I like the concept of it being oddly interpolated existing regions, but it’s essentially a giant, linear combat gauntlet with the hardest enemies in the game, and I had horrendous framerate drops with Miros Vultures and Guardians on the same screen (which considering the preciseness required to aim Saint’s relatively small ascension beam is frustrating). It’s arguably the worst combat segment in the game. The ending similarly leaves me disenchanted. FP and LTTM’s dialogue at the end of Rubicon leaves it very ambiguous whether ascending them even did anything, questioning if they truly escaped, or if they are just in a dream. It ends with Saint attempting to ascend a Void Worm, which results in them being completely drained of karma, seemingly becoming an echo as a result, and being sent back to the beginning of their campaign to relive their memories over again (though the fact you can transfer items between playthroughs via your stomach muddies it even more).

I’m not opposed to interpretative story elements; the base game does it all the time, and there are other games I enjoy with obscure interpretations/lore. However, Saint’s campaign to me oversteps the line because I don’t think any interpretation makes sense on its own merit. If Saint is a bodhisattva-esque figure who tries to help ascend all other beings before themselves, much like the Triple Affirmative was desired to be, what was the purpose of even going to Rubicon, which seems to end their mission early? If they’re anti-ascension, why do they impose it on other species, and why even go to Rubicon to get themselves stuck in echo hell? If this is Saint’s character arc, I don’t think DP communicates it very well either. Dev statements made after release if anything narrows potential theories even more (as they explicitly deconfirmed Saint’s origin as a triple affirmative and how Sliver of Straw potentially ascended, despite it being the subject of Challenge 70). Unfortunately, it feels like DP collapses at its finish line; like Saint themselves, I’m stuck cyclically trying to decipher what was even going on here.

It’s still a fun and brutal romp through the ever-shifting climate of Rain World, as always. Unfortunately, for a DLC whose aim was to expand and provide a full view of the Rain World timeline, it falters and kind of drags the whole thing down. Every campaign had something that bothered me. Either the campaign’s structure itself didn’t feel finely tuned by virtue of mid-campaign twists, weird balancing, or short length, or it felt thematically jarring either with the base game or itself. To speak nothing of the numerous technical issues with level geometry, performance, crashing, etc. that I had to deal with that wasn’t present in the base game. Most of all though, I can’t really make sense of what the DLC is generally trying to say. On the one hand, Rivulet, Gourmand, and Spearmaster give a sense that life is still precious in Rain World, it’s sacred, it’s worth protecting, despite the hostility, the rains, the infinitely repeating cycles. At the same time, Artificer warns against falling to life’s vices to the point it destroys you without any sort of enlightenment being possible, and Saint’s campaign makes the DLC’s anti-ascension slant way more tangled up.

Rain World very much is a game that reciprocates what you put into it, and I never could open myself up to DP; I guess I could chalk that up to just not being the experience the original was for me. Regardless, I think experimentation is better than rote repetition. The MSC team took a lot of commendable risks from a story and gameplay perspective releasing this, and there was a ton of content I didn’t get to experience myself (ex. expeditions, challenges, etc.). While Downpour swings for the fences, and misses frequently, I’m glad it exists, at the very least to give Rain World the flowers it deserves. Despite my numerous issues with Downpour, it feels bittersweet to finally close my chapter on one of the most unique worlds and games in the medium.

A collection of ascended user made mods of wildly varying quality, but generally tending towards being good-to-great, despite how gimmicky every single new slugcat is. Considering Rain World's.... peculiar fanbase, it could have been so much worse, even if some of it still plays and reads like bad fanfiction (mostly the spearmaster campaign).

edit: very belatedly docking a star over the insufferable sense of entitlement a substantial part of the community has developed around it; I have to agree with other reviewers who correctly argued from the start for it being detrimental to the main game, or at the very least to how it is perceived.

(9-year-old's review, typed by his dad)

Did you know that if you type up "Katamari" in Google and click on the Katamari ball, you can play Katamari and roll up the Google search results! Do you want me to show you?

Another one I initially played on the Dread X Collection. I feel like this could do really well made into a larger game, not enough games in the language puzzle genre.

At the moment of writing there’s very little discourse about Laika online, mostly contained within Steam. And with Steam reviews being Steam reviews, people are defining this game through easily identifiable correlative qualifiers. It’s set in a motorized wasteland, kinda like Mad Max! You ride a bike, so it’s Trials with a gun! The combat involves air pirouettes, literally My Friend Pedro! It’s a cartoony castleroidvania, so basically Hollow Knight! It’s easy to dismiss Laika as a hodgepodge pastiche of all things indie, especially in the season motley of overmarketed 90 metacritic releases. The best thing the developers could do in this environment was to release the demo version. It takes 15 minutes hands-on to realize you’re dealing with something special here.

When broken down to bare essentials, the ingredients are pretty familiar. It’s a 2D-sidescroller and you’re on a bike. You balance the bike with the left stick and aim the gun with the right stick. Checkpoints are plentiful but it's always a one-hit kill for you or the enemies. Except, the bike is a large hitbox that shields you from bullets, and you have very little ammo in the clip before you have to reload the gun by doing an air backflip. These two are the brilliant integrals which allow Laika gain its own, completely unique moment-to-moment language. A bump on the road that sends you flying isn’t just an obstacle – it’s an opportunity: either a defensive one to shield yourself from fire or a chance to regain ammo with an iffy flip. It leads to encounters of positional enemy prioritization, risky acrobatics, resource management and split-second decisions. It allows for boss fights that serve as ultimate tests of these particular player skills in more patterned, elaborate bouts. It’s an unusual arrangement of mechanics you definitely need to try for yourself to see if it works for you. If it does though you’ll find such a sick, satisfying system that presses many familiar buttons but plays a totally different tune.

Another structural aspect that impressed me highly is the fundamental purity of Laika’s search action pace. I tend to go on the demo hunts every Steam Next Fest season, and it appears that the current trend in metroidvania design is maximalism – more skill trees, more abilities, more gameplay modifiers, more quote on quote things to mess with. There’s nothing wrong with this approach (in fact just recently I really enjoyed Astlibra, and I’m quite excited for Tevi too), but it makes me appreciate a game like Laika, where every upgrade feels like a radical option expanding power spike. In fact there are exactly two items that give you new traversal abilities – and they are such an exciting change of paradigm that make you rethink the way you approach every gameplay moment. It’s that game from the universe where System Shock 1 was the touchstone game design classic while more numbers driven System Shock 2 was relegated to a curious footnote in history.

The voice of Laika too is diametrically different from what you expect in the medium. Through the advent of prestige sad dad games we've been completely missing stories focused on motherhood and associated female growth – and Laika is that exact tale. The explosive growth of Soulslikes prescribed exposition, The Lore, as the main worldbuilding tool – Laika defines its world without a single written description of an event. The game goes against the established flow if it can benefit from it, but where it matters – Laika preaches to the choir. As in, the anti-imperialist narrative about war, the atrocities it brings and how it warps the combatants, is, to say the least, appreciated in our current world. So are the serene moments of tranquility in-between skirmishes, accentuated by a wonderful vocal soundtrack.

As you can see, I’m very passionately dazzled by Laika. It’s one of the best game I played and artistically it came at exactly the right time. Give it a chance, don’t let it slip through the constant whirlpool of game releases. It deserves to be recognized as a classic.

she really was Laika dragon there in the end ahahaha

This is, by all technicalities, a quirky indie RPG about depression

A man needs to get a wolf, a sheep and a cabbage across the river, but his boat can only carry one of these at a time; so he turns the wolf into another cabbage, and ten minutes later he figures out that's not the right solution and he needs to start all over again. This time he starts by turning himself into a second boat and-

Noita

2020

Noita calls itself “The Falling Sand Roguelite”, a description which will probably only make sense to people who spent a lot of time playing flash games. For those of you who didn’t, “Falling Sand” refers to a genre of simulation sandboxes where you spread around particles of various substances, like water, oil, or sand, and play with their interaction. You watch as oil separates itself from water, which you can then set alight, and then smother with sand. There isn’t a goal to accomplish, the reason to play is simply for the joy of experimentation. Noita builds its worlds around this concept, with every pixel of the environment having simulated physical properties, which you can manipulate using the random magical abilities you find along your journey. Your goal is to traverse a series of biomes, fighting increasingly stronger enemies until you reach a tough-as-nails final boss. Even in this small summary though, you may have noticed the disagreement between each of its genre halves. If progression is done by defeating a linear set of enemies, why is it mixed with a genre about freeform experimentation? Not only does the linear difficulty structure incentivize players to only create wands that kill enemies as quickly as possible, the randomness of the magic means the map generation always has to include a freely accessible exit that doesn’t require magic at all. Most of the time, you’re just quick-firing boring magic missiles or arrows, leaving all the fun interactivity essentially as window dressing. Not only that, but taking risks with more complex wands is actively disincentivized by how fragile your character is, when accidentally hitting yourself is often a one-shot kill, leaving you with no way of enjoying that wand you were so lucky to craft. Confusingly enough, this falling sand game not only lacks a sandbox for experimentation, but it actively discourages you from experimenting much at all. It’s no wonder that some of the top mods on the Steam workshop are the ones that add testing rooms and custom wand spawning, giving players a way of actually enjoying the potential of the robust simulation. This is one of the rare times I’m happy about a game being heavily modded, because the beauty of all the elemental interactions is something more people should experience, and I’m glad there’s a way to do so without sinking hours into mediocre roguelike randomness.