13 reviews liked by mpy


So many hard and fast lines in the sand drawn around this one. 'Bad level design,' 'this game HATES you,' etc. All coming from the fundamental feeling that this game is in some way, doing it wrong. It is not just un-fun. It is a complete misunderstanding of what makes a game fun. Even though I see where people are coming from, I can't agree. This game's approach isn't wrong, its goals are just so different from what games normally strive for that it feels completely alienating.

To understand why The Lost Levels is the way it is, we need only look at when it was released. This game is not Miyamoto and Company's follow-up to Super Mario Bros. First, earlier in 1986, he and former AD Takashi Tezuka (who shares the director chair with Miyamoto on this game as well) went to work on The Legend of Zelda. Nowadays, the original Zelda also feels pretty alien. Without a guide, its puzzles can feel completely random. To modern sensibilities, it looks like needless obfuscation in service of nothing. But immersing a player in a game and making the immense financial investment of one worth it was a very different task in the 80s. You could angle for intense difficulty to extend runtime, a common ploy. Instead, Zelda forged a new path. With a manual full of hints in hand, players were encouraged to take notes, create their own maps, and endlessly trial and error. It's padding! But it's the kind of padding that deepens the experience. It's how you get people brainstorming how to find Ganon with their friends on the playground at lunch, and these are the people who will treasure the game forever. It can feel like a guide game now, but if you give yourself over to the experience, manual and all, you can still see sparks of what made it such a revolution.

This is not an easily replicable formula. A part of me feels like the release of Zelda broke everyone at Nintendo's brains. Looking at the games coming out in the wake of Zelda, even those cashing in on the post-Mario platforming boom, you see an abrupt shift. Suddenly an Ice Climbers started looking more like a Metroid or Kid Icarus. Tasked with making a sequel to Super Mario Bros, our dynamic duo began to experiment with ways they could introduce their new approach to level design to the setting of Mario, while simultaneously expanding upon the ideas of the first game and giving this one its own identity.

The approach they took was one of a reactive, retaliatory, sequel. Commercially, a bad call. Sequels of this ilk rarely go over well with fans. Think of a film like The Last Jedi. It plays on the rhymes, rhythms and preconceived notions of the series (and its fan base) to dramatic effect. However you think that turned out (my lawyer has advised I abstain from commenting), it was deeply contentious and outright rejected by many diehard fans. Putting aside how interesting I find this game, Nintendo of America was unusually canny to realise releasing this as Mario 2 would have been ruinous.

What came of this daring experiment? A game infamous for unreasonably punishing difficulty. Depending on how it hits you, this game can feel like it's mocking you. The decision to include constant (what had not yet been coined) trolls in the forms of invisible blocks, whacked-out enemy positioning and the like is pretty immediately off-putting. What makes it even more aggravating is how intentional it is. 8-3 is awash with invisible blocks present only to punish you for trying to deal with hammer bros in the way the two games have taught you is most effective. Multiple levels have gaps that punish you for running blindly at max pace in a game whose predecessor was most fun when you were doing just that. 4-1 has an arbitrary single block pit at the end specifically to kill you if you randomly hold back a little bit in fear after this entire game has told you to exercise more caution. It is absurd!

Did you ever see that Hbomberguy video on Pathologic? A great watch, but one thing about it always confused me. After an entire multi-hour discussion on how intellectually invigorating, deeply immersive and artistically enriching he found the game, he continued to insist it wasn't fun. Who is Bomberman trying to kid here? We (Gamers) continue to insist fun only has one form. That is the 'reasonable challenge that can be comfortably overcome in a satisfying amount of time with minimal outside assistance' kind of fun. A perfectly valid kind of fun that this game cannot accommodate. But there are many forms of fun. Major nerd alert in coming here, but engaging with the artistic intentions and themes of a work with a lot to say and an exciting way of saying it is fun! Playing an influential game wherein the ideas and innovation are still visible within many games you love, putting yourself into the mental context of the time, is fun! Most relevantly, engaging in a back-and-forth with an artist stretching the limits of their sensibilities, disregarding the wants and needs of the audience, and completely indulging themselves in ideas usually considered frustrating or flat-out wrong is a kind of fun! It might not be your kind of fun, but it certainly is mine.

From start to finish, I have the cheesiest grin playing this thing. I and the collected workers of Nintendo R&D4 are sitting in a theatre, watching the perfectly timed Looney Tune nonsense of their game play out, again and again, for hours on end, and just laughing and laughing. The crucial thing to realise here is what we are laughing at. Not you certainly, there is no victim to this tomfoolery. Instead, it is giddy in the realisation it can turn every expectation of a platformer into an anti-joke. It's dragging you along with it. Do so dutifully and be bored, or join it in its enthusiasm and have a blast. I choose the latter.

The Lost Levels feels especially revolutionary after seeing exactly how many Mario fans would follow its approach to iterating on the series. Doggy doo-doo bullshit like Cat Mario, or fun things like Kaizo Rom-hacks and those hysterically stupid Mario Maker levels, have all, consciously or not, taken this as a veritable how-to guide. You don't have to like these, but I find it oddly beautiful that their scumfuckery isn't just approved of by the original work, but predated by it.

And after everything said here, you can just have a good time with this. Grab a drink, be ready to google how to beat the unreasonable mazes, and drop a save state or two on most levels. You're golden.

This game doesn't hate you, it's too giddy for you to even factor into the equation. It's a little kid who wants to show you their scribbling. Maybe the final piece makes no sense, but you have to love the boundless enthusiasm behind it. I’d stick it on my fridge!

I was first introduced to the writing of Hikaru Sakurai via Fate/Grand Order. In that fandom, at least in the west, she's seen as something of a pariah--a very poor writer who can't rein in her otome tendencies and writes bad deus ex machina plots. I've never really agreed with that criticism, I think her arcs in that game are mostly fine if strangled a bit by early-game weirdness or being forced to do Main Plot Stuff and not asmuch use her voice. I've always wondered what her writing was like outside the context of Type-Moon.

Which leads me to Sona-Nyl. Although not the first game of hers to be translated into english, it was the one I was pointed to as being "actually good". And, well, it was!

The thing that stood out to me was the quality of the prose. Even through translation, it is immediately and clearly apparent that the writing from the moment you start Sona-Nyl comes from a different, more literary place than most of its contemporaries. It's use of rhythm and repetition, short but flowery description, and fuzzy emotions are all just really beautiful and help elevate the material throughout the game.

Like, the structure of the story means that in each chapter of the game there is a lot of repeated narration passages--like, literally word for word repeated 6+ times. In the hands of weaker writers, this would have been miserable and an obvious way to kill the pacing of the game, but here just by how the script is and how the narrative unfolds, I ended up relishing each time they'd repeat the passages and it gives them so much more meaning as you learn more of the world.

Of course, all the beautiful writing in the world wouldn't matter if the core narrative wasn't good, which is also the case here--the twin stories of Elysia exploring the ruins of New York while Lily explores the fantasy underground entwine in a way that gives the story a strong structure that both leans into the story's message and the greater meaning of the series.

Like, there's a clockwork-like precision to the narrative and prose that tie together that really make this work feel steampunk not just in setting, but in the actual words as well. It's something I've really never seen executed here and makes it a better steampunk work than most anything else I've read. But there's an inhumanity to it just as much, a certain unease that comes across that also pushes absurd ethereal world the characters live in. Its just...beautiful.

I don't really know what else to add. It's a very different take on this sort of science-fantasy than you'll find anywhere else in the visual novel field, let alone outside of it. It instantly sold me on reading as much of Sakurai's works as possible, and I wholeheartedly recommend it.

Very goofy (good way).

Two of the three games the dev team cites as major inspirations are Devil May Cry and Guilty Gear. Know that they specifically mean the first Devil May Cry. As for the Guilty Gear comparison, I understood it at the surface level (Roman Cancel + movement is similar). Then I reached the penultimate boss-fight of the game and had the feeling of "this game is now for people that place top 8 for Guilty at EVO".

Slave Zero X is the game that has kicked my ass the most since playing the original release of DMC 3 when I was a child. This is the first game in 20 years that I am putting on the "I'll finish someday" backburner solely because of difficulty. Game is pretty neat for that.

I will say there are still criticisms. For one the game often feels like it leaves the "DMC" inspiration in favour of a traditional Beat 'em Up or Musou. These moments can work briefly, but the later levels really lean into this, I think to the game detriment. As these are the moments where the game most heavily devolves into popping DT to spam EX moves as much as possible, then popping Burst to get full meter to repeat the cycle.

Also for a game that cares enough about player skill expression to put in a training room, it's weird there is not only no movelist, but the only time you can view the controls/see what the mechanics are is if you replay and skip the intro cutscene level.

Even with those gripes, I think the game mostly succeeds in what it's trying to do. If all of that sounds like something you need in your veins right now, I would definitely recommend. Visualy gorgeous with an OST that goes off, if you are looking for a challenge, Slave Zero X is a great option.

If you do pickup the game, I'll give two recommendations:
1. Go to volume settings and max out the Music track. Otherwise it will get completely washed out.
2. EX moves aren't L+H like it says, its a piano roll. So in very quick succession L>H (For the people coming here as a character action fan, like how you would pull off an Afterburner Kick in Bayonetta)

[Edit, literally the day after writing this: Beat the game, penultimate fight was the hardest fight for sure. The final boss right after was pretty weak imo.]

This review contains spoilers

I played a fair amount of Half-Life: Alyx on a friend's old Vive way back when it first came out, and only came back to finish it on the Quest 3 recently (so I could watch the funny gnome series, naturally), so I lost the initial "wow" factor that pushes this into the god tier for most people. After beating it, I started playing the VR version of the Resident Evil 4 remake. It was only then, when I started trying to open every drawer and pick up every object in that game, that I realized what I'd taken for granted. The natural immersion of just being able to interact with Alyx's world in normal, non-"gamey" ways is the greatest trick it pulls, it turns out, and I miss it already.

Besides that, the game's just plain fun. The Jeff chapter is a standout, packed with clever puzzles, pitfalls, and pranks that make the absolute most of the mechanics, but it's a blast from start to finish. Whatever Valve's actual game devs have been doing in their cage, they clearly haven't lost a step in the near-decade since Portal 2.

The cliffhanger ending is absolutely hilarious, though. Valve goes on record saying that they'll only make another Half-Life if it lives up to the franchise's "total game changer" pedigree; they also go on record saying that Alyx doesn't get a melee weapon because testing revealed melee in VR to feel bad (correct); then in the last ten seconds of the game they put you in Gordon's body and hand you a crowbar like they expect you to expect any chance of a followup. Masterful trolling.

This review contains spoilers

In short, the video game equivalent of a prosaic sports coach's platitude laden pep talk prior their team getting steamrolled.

You'd be forgiven for going into Starfield expecting an ambitious game. All the marketing spoke of exploration and wonder on the edge of space, of Bethesda's biggest ever game, and of harnessing the spirit of early human space exploration. Everyone wanted us to believe this was a massive undertaking, something new for Bethesda after a quarter century of middling fantasy and a purchased IP.

Starfield is none of that, however, choosing instead to cling so tightly to the vine the game was grown on that the only result is rot.

At its core Starfield is the cynical combination of Fallout's mechanics teetering on top of Skyrim's narrative structure. The amalgamation presents itself as if a checklist of features from those games was simply devised in a conference room and worked through with little else in the way of thought.

Combat and exploration behaves almost identically to Fallout, with the added wrinkle of RPG-esque aim sway on all the weapons for the purpose of annoying, but rarely hindering, players who have not put points into combat categories.

Like Fallout, melee weapons are useless, no matter how heavily the character is built for them. All but the weakest enemies in all but the smallest groups will chunk away enough health to send even committed players ducking for cover and resorting to ranged weapons - if the lack of variety in a game 5+ years in the making doesn't see them simply falling back to whatever is easiest first.

Stealth in melee range is similarly broken to its predecessor, becoming mostly useless thanks to a game design that does not support that type of play. Even the game's seemingly powerful cloaking armor is fairly useless, having no appreciable impact on whether or not an enemy detects the player. At a distance stealth remains the most powerful option in the game, with the only reason to forgo attempting a sneaky approach being general apathy or impatience on the part of the player.

The weapons even fall into the same categories as Fallout, with a couple of weapon types forced to the forefront due to a lack of ammo for the others. Starfield even replicates the uselessness of automatic weaponry in its immediate gameplay predecessor, with the prospect of chewing through your entire supply of ammunition impotently plinking away at enemy health bars feeling vastly inferior to high damage single shot weapons with stealth bonuses. Dumping 50+ shots into a guy when you could take him out in 2-3 has never been less appealing a decade on.

Insofar as there are any changes to the systems designed for Fallout 4, the changes presented are mostly aesthetic or simply outright bad.

The digipicking mini game at least replaces lock picking and hacking mini games with something more engaging, although replacing both with the same thing all but guarantees it will become a loathed element of this game in time.

The changes to how Persuasion works in conversations, however, are a significant downgrade. An impressive feat considering the process in previous Bethesda titles, or adjacent games like Fallout New Vegas, varied from straight skill check to invisible dice roll. The brainless back and forth, often involving NPCs responding to head scratching player options with equally nonsensical generic voice lines, not only makes the process more tedious, but also succeeds at somehow making talking your way into and out of ridiculous situations even more absurd and unbelievable than in past games; it is hard to take the feature seriously when it almost always involves the other party in the conversation turning into an absolute fool, easily fleeced by the rhetorical equivalent of "got your nose".

At least the days of a single skill check or dice roll let me imagine a more complex conversation occurred, instead of asserting that no, in fact, a pair of absolute goobers engaged in a madlibs skit instead.

The most disappointing mechanical failure comes in the form of the game's building system, something so stripped bare and thoroughly neutered it's a shock Bethesda touted it as a selling point at all. A true achievement considering Fallout 4 settlement building was notoriously ropey and under designed. Even Fallout 76's building offers more variation and interest than Starfield, a game that's willing to charge you 235,000 in game credits for a space so small that it makes the notoriously tiny Dugout player home from Fallout 4 seem palatial in comparison.

It's rather absurd a system vital to the longevity of the studio's previous big release is so functionally inert here. Building options are so few, and limitations so strict, one wonders if even the actually ambitious elements of Bethesda's modding community will attempt to construct something fun, or even less profoundly annoying to engage with, than the desiccated corpse of a concept Bethesda kicked out the door as if attempting to kill desire for it in their player base.

Still more elements are downgrades by way of simplification. Character creation is an unwieldy system of morph target mixing that actually makes constructing a character harder, while aiming for simplification. The UI is simplified to the point of the user experience suffering as a result of its consistent vagueness. Gone are the actual RPG inventory and equipment systems of previous Bethesda games, replaced by a gear spread more resembling the original Mass Effect with all of the players stats tied into a single armor element and a helmet.

Perhaps I'd care more if anyone but the people working on assets for Starfield cared, or the simplification afforded more variance and customization of what is available, but the simmering disappointment in the systemic simplicity of the game faded to apathy when the "grounded" sci-fi world of Starfield handed me a soviet era special forces rifle (a VSS) named "Old World Hunting Rifle" without any sign of irony. Why care about the gear in this game when the game clearly does not?

A good deal of new mechanics seem relatively pointless, or at least under cooked. The zero gravity combat works well enough in the exceedingly rare instances where it appears. The jump pack adds some minor verticality to the combat, but is held back by being bound up in the skill tree and thus relegated to a design afterthought. The same questionable player hitboxes that have made climbing through windows or over any object in an interior space a near impossibility in past Bethesda games render the boost pack mostly useless indoors. It's all well and good a boosted jump can propel a player up to the second story of an outpost atrium, but relatively pointless when they can't fit through the gap between the railing and the ceiling to take advantage of it.

Similarly, the bare-bones bounty system in the game offers little meaningful gameplay outside of make work missions for pitiful amounts of money. Ship combat is shallow to the point of being boring. The contraband system is more an invitation to rote circumvention than meaningful play vector. The vast procedurally generated planets are full of a handful of repeating plants and features, offering little worthwhile interaction.

Although I did get a laugh when I exited a cave that had literally nothing in it to find a man pointing a shotgun at me a screaming about me stealing his claim before turning to fire a mining laser at a worthless rock without another ship or structure anywhere else on the planet.

More importantly though, all of these gestures at systems that don't actually exist feel like things that should be the core of this game's gameplay loop. Excluding the poor balancing of weapons, one can see a world where the limited alteration of systems inherited from previous games was paired with a new layer of interactive elements in the world. More things to do, more ways to roleplay, more customization, and deeper interaction.

Instead, seemingly no work was done here beyond the game's physical structure, which in and of itself resembles more a series of soulless boxes for players to move through, void attempting to be artifice disguising a game that, for its vast footprint, feels smaller and less cared for than any Bethesda game before it.

If Starfield is Fallout with slightly less salt on the mechanic side, on the narrative and world building side it's simply a retread of Skyrim. Two factions, the United Colonies (Imperials) and the Freestar Collective (Nords) coexist in constant tension, though without the impending civil war here. The player, a third party working with a group of independent actors, must collect space powers, one of which - yes - is literally just Skyrim's Fus Roh Dah, as they mediate the relationship between these two factions and the appearance of a third, the Starborn (Dragons).

Most areas lack the strong narrative threads crafted by Fallout 4's focus on more compact spaces, instead favoring Skyrim's loose generalized quest hub approach for cities and towns. The result is spaces with little in the way of tangible identity, never really managing to build a coherent sense of place as strong as the likes of Diamond City or Goodneighbor.

Even beyond that the writing and world building continue to struggle. Absent the well crafted underpinnings vital to the Fallout franchise, which Bethesda had no hand in constructing, Starfield's world presents a profoundly dim view of the future. As it lacks ambition elsewhere, so it lacks it here, not only incapable of constructing a believable post Earth humanity, but incapable of imagining it as being any different than our current times.

Obsidian can take heart that they're not worst of the people making "RPGs" in this vein when it comes to understanding the breadth of even our current political landscape or imagining alternatives. At least The Outer Worlds imagines corporations and the ultra rich as forces for abject harm wont to do it in absence of people resisting it, even as it constructs nonsensical versions of the real world opposition to the forces of capital in service of mealy mouth liberal status quo supporting bullshit.

Sure, they might have failed to come up with a reason for not siding with a communist faction in its game and deployed its only likeable protagonist to guilt the player into not siding with them; but Starfield sincerely trots out the "this corporation is like a family to me" bullshit used to guilt workers into accepting abuse, then heaps an out of character agreement from an otherwise compassionate companion (Andreja) on top, AND forcibly dictates the final word on the matter like my character - raised in the poverty being discussed - is somehow in the wrong for believing complicity in its existence to be a fundamental abortion of morality.

I, personally, would rather they'd given me no option to challenge the characters on the abusive practices of their massive corporation than have the game tell me, essentially, "well yes, they're abusing people, but it's justified because that abuse lets them take care of their 'family' and they pay slightly better". I'm generally happy to welcome characters, even ones with putrid worldviews, expressing those and disagreeing with mine in games. But if the end point of allowing this type of ideological expression is to shut it down when it becomes inconvenient, then there's no point in allowing that deep an ideological expression in the first place. I'd much rather this suit simply dismiss me out of hand without a second thought, than acquiesce to the argument and get bailed out by the invisible hand of the writer when the rhetorical limits of said writer's viewpoint are found.

This general inability to not only engage seriously with the real world concepts its building on, but to even recognize the world today in the breadth of its complexity as it projects it hundreds of years into the future is pervasive in Starfield. There is no deeper meaning to its use of aesthetics, no broader themes, no commentary deeper than a mall fountain.

The result is a game devoid of worthwhile world building, or really any meaningful intrigue. Beyond injecting nonsensical political assertions into loaded topics, and the regular appearance of completely incoherent quest lines, there seems to just be an utter lack of understanding of what elements in our real world inspire the stories from which the game's narrative draws its reference. No deeper thought, no attempt to build upon, just copy paste, find and replace.

Sure, there was a war between the United Colonies and the Freestar Collective, but that's in the past and no one really ever stops to explain why it even happened. Now there's really nothing going on. They're all too busy fighting generic space outlaws and the occasional bandit to butt heads with each other. Sure there's a big faction of mysterious religious people, better bake them into an unseen corner of the galaxy. Yeah we got pirates, but why would we interface with or tell stories about them beyond the pirate part?

It's a world where actually the corrupt cops are also a path out of extreme poverty for a bunch of gang members, presented unironically as a good thing. A world where an entire city's identity is boiled down to "we built some big walls to keep the mean space dogs out". A world where the billionaire is still a good guy, and corporations can be a family, even as they exploit the player and literally build towering monuments to their wealth over top of the poor in two of the three major cities in the game. Something the game recognizes but refuses to comment on, either for or against. A world where attitudes towards drugs and the homeless are no different from our own time, even in the place where people are purported to care more because they're willing to engage in clearly ineffectual charity.

It is a ponderous chunk of incoherent words, unable to navigate its way past the inherent lack of paths forward that don't conflict with its own assertion humanity's status quo will, and should, simply exist in perpetuity. A narrative that could have been saved by constructing literally any view of humanity, dystopian or utopian, outwardly progressive or virulently fascist, that isn't the vapid combination of corporate mush and stark inequality, but refuses.

Even the most cynical writers rarely manage a less ambitious view of the future than Starfield, especially in the world of science fiction, but in a way that's fitting here. In a game that's wholly unwilling to be anything more than the simple interface of an existing set of mechanics with an existing narrative, Starfield should be this profoundly devoid of broader thought about the human race.

At least its aggressive clinging to the aesthetics of a bygone golden age looks pretty, even if it makes me think about how much better the Fallout games - even the ones from Bethesda - are at utilizing the same type of aesthetic as more than just eye candy.

I played this bullshit while getting spammed Better Call Saul riffs, Laura Palmer screams and a miriad of other funny meme sounds at x10 the sound they should play, I got so fucking dissoriented I thought I was going to have a panic attack. All just to get the intended experience by the devs: A child who still hasn't learned how to read, has been left alone by their parents and is still susceptible to the sweet release of an epileptic fit.

This is what stimulates your cousin for 14 hours straight every single day. Actual hell on earth.

In the first chapter of Ghost Trick, you fail to save a woman's life and need to go back in time a bit to give it another go. On the second attempt, you see the past version of yourself do its thing and use that as a springboard to finish the job. This is the only time you "cooperate" with a past self to solve a problem in the entire game, and no one comments on it. I realize that trying to make that a mechanic would be a design nightmare, but it always stuck out to me that something like that would occur at the very beginning of the game and never get brought up again.

...okay, that was it. That was my one and only criticism of Ghost Trick. Over the decade since its original release, I haven't found a single other thing that I'd consider a misstep. The puzzles are complex contraptions that feel satisfying to understand while still being limited enough in scope that everything you try, intended or not, provides a lesson. The story is a watertight, excellently-paced mystery, delivering complications and twists in spades while taking care to wrap everything up in a neat little bow by the end. The soundtrack is a bop, packed with jazzy synths that perfectly suit the game's "cartoon-noir" tone. The art is captivating, with each environment you traverse packed to bursting with interesting details but still perfectly readable at a glance owing to the poppy, flat-shaded color work and the wonderful character designs. And the animation is simply iconic, conveying energy and character to a degree rivaled only by the same team's later titles.

That's where the review would stop, if I were reviewing the original release. But this is the remaster. No matter how good a game is, the prospect of a remaster is always a little risky, and I've been burned before. So how does that side of things hold up? Pretty well, actually!

Unlike many of the DS' greatest hits, Ghost Trick never relied too heavily on its original system's unique features, so the gameplay is basically unchanged. I have two concerns here, new to the remaster, but neither got in my way personally. The first is that moving between different objects can get finicky if they're close together and you're using a stick (on Windows you can use the mouse for much finer control). The second is that later on you need to start paying attention to the shapes of objects, which is tougher without the top screen spelling it out for you (since this was a replay for me, I knew the solutions ahead of time). From what I've gathered from other reviews, though, neither of these seemed to be a huge problem for first-timers.

The simplicity of the original game's art style means it scales up to HD almost effortlessly, though there are occasional oddities introduced along the way that it's hard not to notice. Characters have static faces that often don't fit the scene; sprites can get layered weirdly when characters interact with each other or the world; a few assets didn't have HD source files and just... remain pixelated as a result; the animations felt less snappy than I remembered, which I suspect is a result of some sort of frame interpolation. These are all minor details, and it was easy for me to gloss over them knowing that the game was ported from a handheld, but if you're going into this version raw they might stick out to you more so I feel a need to address them.

I'm usually cold on soundtrack rearrangements, as I think a lot of them just add in a bunch of layers and kill the main melodies of the original. Ghost Trick's new soundtrack is slightly guilty of this, but on the whole I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked it, and I kept it on through the whole playthrough even though reverting to the original is an option.

In summary: highly recommended. I've spent a lot of words on my criticisms of the remaster, but those are ultimately quite minor. It's just that the closer you get to perfection, the smaller a flaw has to be to stand out.

There's a damning paradox in the mystery genre: the more interesting, clever, or unique you try to make your twists and solutions, the easier it becomes to solve the mystery. Read enough of these and you tend to stop thinking like a detective and start thinking like an author: "what would be the cool thing to do here" becomes the best heuristic for predicting where the story's going to go. Due to the interactivity aspect, VNs are even more likely to fall into this trap, and this is no exception.

That said, Paranormasight is a fun ride. Slick presentation and an entertaining cast will bolster any narrative, and the supernatural angle injects enough possibilities into the world to keep it from getting too predictable. I am a little disappointed that the curse-based Stand battles end after the prologue, though, even if they were pretty gimmicky.

When I finished Heaven Will Be Mine I was left feeling like most people who play this will either claim it to be a religious experience or view it as a slog to get through. Then there is myself who sort lands in the middle where I there are parts I greatly admire and parts I question a lot.

For starters, the art direction and atmosphere of the game is top notch. As visual novels go, this one does a great job of standing out. Mia Schwartz's stunning art does a great job of showcasing the most intimate and intense moments of the story in a way that really sticks with you. They use colors in a way I find very appealing and left me admiring almost all of the art in the game. Alec Lambert delivers another fantastic soundtrack with a lot of moody pieces that feel right at home with the story about transcending humanity and flying sexy robots.

Where I think the game falters the most is its story. Similar to the developer's previous game "We Know the Devil", there are three routes to choose from with three different characters to play as. Of course when I say play I mean you are just reading and boy is there a lot of text. Unlike the previous game, each run can take over an hour based on your reading speed and if you want to read all you can about the world it will take even longer. My biggest gripe with all this reading is that I just did not find it nearly as compelling as the previous game. There's a lot of optional text that goes more into the world and relationship between certain characters the main problem was that none of this text enhanced what I was reading in the main story. I feel this game would have benefitted from a smaller script because by the time I got to the last playthrough, I was skipping a lot of the dialogue which I normally don't like to do.

By and large what upsets me the most is that I just didn't enjoy this game nearly as much as "We Know the Devil" which I loved greatly. There is a lot of cool story bits that I wish I could wrap my head around more as I feel it would have enhanced my experience. I can see why this game is often talked about in regards to LGBTQ+ games I just wish I resonated with it more.

A very loving sendup to an era that I have nostalgia for despite only getting snip bits of it in my childhood. The vibes of nu metal, punk attitude and teen edginess permeate every aspect of this game but in a way that left me completely charmed. Zane as a character was so fun to play as despite all of his attempts to be cool, you will see cracks in his character that reveals how caring and creative he is. The whole premise of this being a game he created really shines through with the settings and characters mirroring people and places in his life.

Regarding the gameplay it is pretty serviceable. It is not as fast paced or smooth controlling as some more modern boomer shooters but it still has a few tricks up its sleave. One of my favorite aspects of the game is how most levels attempt to replicate realistic locations or objects using the chunkiest models ever. These were always my favorite types of levels in older boomer shooters and its nice to that type of design still persisting to this day.

Overall I really enjoyed my time with this game and I hope the new episodes come out soon.