Everything in Super Seducer is tragic. It's deeply offensive, of course, perhaps even more so for what it deliberately leaves out than the wretched drivel it includes.
Chuchel is a creation of pure joy, an absolute masterclass in silliness, with pleasingly involved puzzles to boot. It's a giant cuddle of a game, interesting to all ages, and with a manic edge that never slows down.
If you breeze through Spelunky and its ilk, this is unquestionably the game for you.
Hold your horses for the moment, is my tip, and hopefully in a month's time I'll be back with a far more positive recommendation.
There’s definitely a nice idea in playing as a tech support trapped behind deploying stock phrases, as some larger story unfolds about you, but Tech Support: Error Unknown just doesn’t deliver it.
I love that it exists. I don't begrudge it for any of its ridiculous failings, really. It'd have been amazing if it could have been this gently entertaining and interesting exploration of Egyptian history, perhaps something like an in-situ podcast. But it isn't. It's a museum audio tour, along with all their obvious shortcomings, that takes no advantages of its medium
It's clear that Cypher is beyond me. The first couple of rooms were a breeze, but quickly I was finding it too obtuse, too interested in being difficult and not interested enough in teaching me how to solve it. And that's very much a personal taste thing. For people super into this sort of thing, with brains bigger than mine, this'll be a sweet treat.
A truly beautiful game, uplifting, gorgeous and alive.
That it ultimately collapses into a string of unpleasant platforming sequences that the core design simply can't sustain means I grew to loathe Crossing Souls, once it entirely abandoned its redeeming features for everything it couldn't get right.
Of what I've played so far Dandara offers a fresh new way to play a very familiar format, with deft design and strong puzzling wit. I just wish it had remembered to give me a reason to do so.
Octogeddon refers back to the arcade cabinets of the '80s, both in the simplicity of its opening premise, and in much of the presentation. But it is its own unique idea, that while not world-changing or particularly revolutionary, is quietly brilliant in its delivery. I only worry that it's slightly too quiet.
This is a decent, very peculiar puzzler, that does entertaining nonsense to the insides of your brain. Hard not to like.
For me, the more of it I played, the more I found it got in its own way. Its clumsy prose is a struggle to read, its difficulty spikes are aggravating, and the sense of being directionless is too all-pervading. I feel certain this will find its audience, and what a joy for them. But sadly, not so much for me.
Paradise is a very satisfying and deeply peculiar game.
If you already love these puzzles, this is a must buy, and if you want to get into a smart, engrossing, and perfectly delivered pure puzzle game, this is an amazing place to start.
This could have been the Hidden Folks of murdering. And it's all there, underneath the mess, waiting for someone to rescue. Sadly that has, so far, not been realised.
You absolutely should play it if you've played To The Moon. If you haven't, you should blooming well go and play that, and then this.
It's a lot at once, and so sumptuously animated throughout, that its brevity is a bonus, not a loss.
You'll have an example off the top of your head, but I'm struggling to think of the last twin-stick shooter that put a big emphasis on downtime between blasting, with NPCs, a decent chunk of story, and an RPG-style upgradeable roster of characters. That's what Tower 57 rather modestly offers, all through very pleasing chunky 16-bit art.
If you want a new Lego game to sit down and play with your kids, or indeed by yourself, then this is the one you've been waiting for since 2013.