I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream is a unique gem of a point-and-click adventure game. As an adaptation of the short story of the same name it uses the genre’s characteristic features - puzzle solving, slow paced gameplay and rich atmosphere - to tell a psychological horror story where the player must guide five characters through their own personal hell-like scenarios.

What makes it different gameplay-wise from other adventures is the fact that it was meant to be 'unwinnable'. In each character’s chapter you can fail at saving them from their mental torture, indicated by their psychological 'profile picture' on screen. Certain actions might worsen their condition, which makes the omni-present control of the antagonist that more terrifying. (You can re-try each chapter, though, and already completed ones stay that way.)

As someone who loves it when video games use the unique strengths of the medium to tell a story, I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream does this in a really immersive way that connects the player with the characters to share their horror.

The first Mario platformer to prioritize presentation over gameplay. Compared to 64 and Sunshine, both movement options and level exploration take a big hit, and when you consider the hardware that the game exists on, it's not hard to see why. I most likely don't need to mention that I'm against casualization, but I probably wouldn't be if every game did it as well as Super Mario Galaxy. The unquestionably phenomenal soundtrack, the visuals that still look great 13 years on, the delightfully extreme ranges in tone from galaxy to galaxy, the grand scale that feels worthy of the outer space setting, and Nintendo's trademark imagination at its very best lead to some of the most fantastical worlds ever seen in a video game, even if the platforming itself isn't fantastic.

Chapter One
A child ran off from their village, filled with rage. A petty kind of anger; one that the child would have all but forgotten about the next time you saw them. This next time would never come, though. The child disappeared and in their place stood a Destroyer.

Chapter Two
The village seemed different. Strange new people kept showing up, with pig shaped masks covering their eyes. On the surface, they went about their business and chatted like any other villager but the more mind you paid them, the more their words rang hollow. Their thoughts and jokes seemed inorganic; mass produced even. As these Pigmasks gathered in the village, the original people there felt alienated. An old man, once known for his insights and his sharp wit would get angrier and angrier, lashing out at those around him and eventually leaving. More villagers would follow suit, some of them against their will, as this community they saw as a safe haven to share things they couldn’t share anywhere else slowly but surely became part of that “anywhere else.”
Were these Pigmasks to blame for everything? Or was it merely a case of things that always infested the community finally bubbling up to the surface? And what of the Destroyer, a one-time villager, now hailed as the champion of the Pigmasks?

Chapter Three
A monkey walked through a forest with boxes on their back; head and torso fighting a fierce battle to not fall and hit the ground. This grueling process eventually became routine and the monkey’s body eventually went on autopilot. They had all this time to think about if they’ll ever move past this task and if they’ll ever have a purpose.
Did the Destroyer have the same thoughts in this same forest?

Chapter Four
Another village child was not unlike the one who would become the Destroyer. In fact, you could say that these two village children were a single entity; two sides of the same coin. The Destroyer was the head of this coin, facing up and always the topic of conversation from those who saw this “face.” The tail, stuck to the ground, reveled in the attention the head received. They took glee in seeing friends talk about the Destroyer without any clue of its relation to the one standing near them. They searched for other villagers’ words on this mysterious Destroyer and snuck into houses to see them: the praise, the insults, the natural discussions surrounding this new “symbol” of the village.
This was not healthy for the village child. But still, could you blame them? This sensation of feeling important, even if that importance was just a niche micro-celeb in a small village, was much more comforting than the cold reality of meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Chapter Five
A Pigmask working in a tower was a big fan of a rock band. They were utterly awestruck at the sight of that band’s merchandise on the man that entered the tower earlier that day and could not talk about anything other than that band: expressing their love of the band’s work, idolizing the ones behind it as supposedly great people, and elevating the band to some moral paragon because of milquetoast political opinions in its songs.
The Destroyer was in the tower too, watching this Pigmask’s conversation with mere apathy if not active contempt.

Chapter Six
Sometimes, ghosts of the past appear as reminders of what will never come back.

Chapter Seven
The Destroyer pulled a needle out of the ground and felt nothing. They pulled quite a bit of these needles before but something was different this time. The act was now done only out of some perceived obligation; to the Pigmasks and villagers cheering on or to the fake images of hearts that result from the act. It was time for the last needle to be pulled.

Chapter Eight
The Destroyer laid on the ground motionless as its tail pulled the final needle on its behalf. Its supposed stardom was crushed into not even half a star.
It’s over.

Hands down one of my favorite games ever now that I've finished it.

I've never experienced a game that delved so deep, thoughtfully and intelligently in politics, addiction, the police, self-loathing, pain and a million other tangential topics.

It is erudite in its writing, and brilliant in its ludo-narrative consonance from the first sentence to the last. Most video games wish they had one character as compelling as anyone in Disco Elysium. And the game is packed full of standouts.

Truly a masterful piece of art made to be slowly savored and dissected to one's content.

LONG LIVE DISCO BABY !!

I am astonished at seeing how many unjust and cruel 1 star are being left here. Sonic.exe is not simply a game, it's a cultural phenomenon because its impact on the collective minds is undeniably omnipresent. The woke mob simply cannot fathom a masterpiece such as Sonic.exe, because it forces you come in terms with the slaughter of our femboys (tails), makes us impotent upon seeing the merciless destroyal of himbos(knuckles), and disheartened on the fate that waits for the woebegone dad bods(dr. pingas). All of which the average woke mobian cannot live without, as they need them for finding the comfort in their pathetic cribs, perchance. Sonic.exe teaches in a minimalist manner the raw and steel cold reality of death of our heroes.