Slant Magazine

“Beyond familiar echoes to Silent Hill, Killer 7 is the most obvious touchstone for the combat system and generally flamboyant aesthetic. But Sorry We’re Closed defies the purely imitative qualities of so much indie horror. For whatever mechanical shortcomings it may have, the game exhibits the most confident grasp of its own artistic sensibility this side of Paradise Killer.”

“Perhaps by its very nature as a sequel, Rise of the Golden Idol was never going to be the revelation that the original was. But by playing to the strengths of the first game’s concept through even more intricate puzzle design, it offers a worthy follow-up in a spirited new setting.”

“It’s with all that in mind that it’s fairly easy to forgive just how little has been done to bring Shadows of the Damned up to code in 2024. Especially by contrast to the botched remaster of Suda51’s Lollipop Chainsaw, it’s almost a relief that the worst that can be said for this release is that it’s indistinguishable from the original, aside from a mild spitshine of the textures and it running at 4K60. Without trying to run an expensive graphical arms race, Shadows of the Damned is forced to stand on charm. Given just how many unique experiences exist outside the AAA bubble right now, the fact that Garcia Hotspur’s wild profane trash-sploitation adventure still does is a timely reminder of what can happen in the arena of AA games.”

“More than once, as I repeatedly threw myself against Kill Knight’s considerable challenges, I suddenly felt a tear running down my face and realized that I hadn’t blinked in what felt like an eternity. It was as though I had returned to my body from some unknowable elsewhere.”

“Despite the spectacular presentation and thought-provoking story, though, there’s a nagging sense that Phoenix Springs is just a bit too vague. The game is drenched in interesting themes—the horror of immortality, the fragility of memory, the clashing of nature and technology—and yet it never seems willing to pin any of these ideas down with specifics.”

“The sharp, imperfect edges of that art become vital, rejecting the seamlessness of higher-budgeted works that obscures the effort that went into their creation. As stop-motion is a jerky and imperfect approximation of motion that’s nevertheless bursting with character, everything about Judero’s construction is nothing short of evidence of its humanity.”

“You’ll occasionally come across signs bearing dreamlike musings: “the sea shells form a bridge between us,” “there is a dark shape on the horizon,” and so on. As you travel further, the wind changes direction and the evening sky shifts from orange to purple. Platforms get sparser and require leaps of faith or hope. And when you inevitably miss and Waldorf falls into the sea, he wakes up on an ice floe, surrounded by sleeping walruses, waiting to dream again. It’s the clearest example of UFO 50’s willingness to experiment paying off in something as fun to play as it is interesting conceptually, but in a crowded field, it’s far from the only one.”

“When it isn’t tipping its hat to Yars’ Revenge, the game offers only simplistic platforming.”

“Whatever dissonance hovers in the air at the start of I Am Your Beast will have dissipated by the time you reach the final level. “You’re creating a no-win scenario for yourself,” screams Burkin as he throws the full force of the government at you. In response, Harding simply, satisfyingly, and coolly rejects those terms. As the lyrics to that final level’s original track kick in, you’ll come to know what he knows: that there will always be another level, and that you will always be someone else’s beast—unless you find a way, however bloody, to be your own man.”

“This continuity also deepens your connection to the world in interesting ways. Since every step Jemma takes affects everything around her, it means that she’s always moving other people in ways they find helpful or annoying. Sometimes she solves problems and other times she just breaks things. The resulting consistency and believability suggests an actual world with real problems that need solving, fulfilling the promise of Arranger’s subtitle by turning a smart, winsome puzzler into something that also feels like an adventure.”

“Everyone can easily hop on a grind rail and travel around, but seasoned gamers will have endless opportunities and reasons to kill and look cool doing it. Even still, it’s not hard at all to button mash one’s way to glory, as long as one remembers where the shield button is from time to time. Expert gamers might be disappointed at how little the higher difficulties add to the mix, but it’s hard to be mad when the base experience is such a sick and sanguine little delight.”

“Over the course of Bloodless, Tomoe leads dozens, if not hundreds, of challengers to flee from her in fear. Their apparent lack of conviction—their willingness to take flight rather than die fighting—suggests a commentary on violence that the game fails to flesh out. Tomoe’s exchanges with new and old acquaintances, which transpire in sluggish scenes filled with trite dialogue, are similarly devoid of depth, texture, and specificity. Bloodless clearly has something to say about the cataclysmic potential of power and the cycles of suffering it locks people into, but by making its world feel universal—like it could be anywhere—it ends up nowhere at all.”

“While the plot is occasionally predictable and the voice acting is a bit of a letdown, none of this takes away from the overall charm and mystery of Eden Genesis. Even when the final area, Node Zero, strips away all of the glamor of Eden’s districts, reducing things to a wireframe orange, it’s never anything less than exhilarating to find ways around obstacles, running along the safe underbelly of a fiery platform in order to double-jump up and slash through an enemy on the other side of it before finding another safe ceiling. If this is mental degeneration, then Disturbed had it right back in 2000: “Get up, come on get down with the sickness.””

“Luckily, though, you’ll spend much of Tactical Breach Wizards in the heat of battle, and that’s where it functions best. Few of the scenarios are difficult, and intentionally so; the game is less about raw challenge than having you experiment in pursuit of efficiency and style. Many of the optional, more difficult objectives encourage you to squeeze 15 actions into a single turn or complete a map without letting the enemy ever fire a shot, which means constantly refreshing your actions and movements several times per turn. Even when the characters are patiently waiting their turn, there’s always a remarkable sense of speed to Tactical Breach Wizards.”

“There’s also the odd choice to render some solutions on the mystery board as cutscenes with NPCs acting out past events. These are usually a bit stiff and awkward, with characters rendered inexplicably in highlighter yellow. They seem like an effort to heighten the drama of the game’s most important moments. But in leaving less to the imagination, they instead have the opposite effect—shining too bright a light on a story that thrives in its moments of murky mystery.”

“Nobody Wants to Die struggles to reach a satisfying conclusion, which is, perhaps fittingly, indicated by its very title. There’s a serial killer, conspiracy theory, James’s traumatic past, his current partner’s illicit body-rental surrogacy, and a class riot. The game’s body-swapping shenanigans mashes several of those plots into a confusing showdown that may leave you unsure as to who you’re even confronting. The ending that my choices led to—the point at which you’d most want to do a reconstruction—was abrupt and disappointing, leaving the fate of many characters in question. How unfortunate, then, that out of all the places in which the game allows you to rewind time and relive past events, your save file isn’t one of them.”

“To its credit, Conscript maintains a high level of intensity regardless and doesn’t cheapen the experience by adding unnecessary supernatural elements or moments of levity. Similar to its survival horror brethren, it features multiple endings, and while some are more impactful than others, all boast the same dedication to authenticity and the anti-war themes that put it in the same conversation as other Australian anti-war classics like Peter Weir’s Gallipoli.”

“But while the game at times demands a level of execution that its design doesn’t always facilitate, its frustrations are fleeting. They resemble the towering skeleton that stomps through its world—revealing themselves in bursts but largely sticking to the darkness, denting but not fully cracking the beauty, coziness, and wondrous sense of atmosphere that surround them.”

“Where it most matters, though, Linkito delivers engaging puzzles. The final area, Albatross Tech’s Control Center, creatively incorporates elements from each of the previous divisions, with elaborate, multi-panel contraptions that will have you programming robots to carry data that can be used to unlock the path to a bomb. A promising level editor all but ensures there will be even more challenging post-launch devices to solve, for while the story is about a budding revolution, it’s by no means revolutionary. The puzzles, though? They’re electric.”

“Aletheia also gradually attains a suite of powers that allow you to reach previously inaccessible areas, but backtracking grows tedious due to the barebones map and the limitations of fast travel. You can only teleport to and from a handful of locations, meaning that you often need to embark on odysseys to use warp spots to get elsewhere. This tedium leads the game’s Metroidvania elements to feel shoehorned in rather than integral to its design. Though it has the bones of a winning action platformer, Gestalt: Steam & Cinder contorts them in submission to generic norms and expectations. The adventure becomes a chore, the fire stamped out.”