Excitement over the prospect of a new Fatal Frame game was quickly extinguished by the reality of a new Fatal Frame game. Rejecting genre conventions once allowed Fatal Frame to stand alongside Siren, Silent Hill and Resident Evil, but declaring antiquated ideas sacrosanct leaves it, ironically, in a modern version of the same company. Survival horror hit a wall, and Maiden of Black Water isn't the one to overcome it.
Sunset survives as the antithesis of contemporary narrative construction, but lacks the confidence and vitality to thrive inside of its admirable periphery. It's all support with little regard for structure.
There are people who care about Formula 1 more than you and I care about anything. F1 2015 rewards their passion with an impressive simulation of not only the actual races, but a slice of the elegant culture surrounding the sport. Unfortunately F1 2015 doesn't have room for much of anything else, finding itself lapped by modern peers in expected features and ease of approach.
CounterSpy revels in the consistency of its chaos. When its directed assemblage of menacing systems are behaving with candid sincerity, CounterSpy is an exciting model of action and reaction. When its pieces collude together in a remorseless coincidence, CounterSpy feels like it's coming apart at the seams. Drawing inspiration from a satirical appreciation of the Cold War, it's fair for CounterSpy to teeter on the edge of principled oblivion. Finding value in its eccentricity, however, controls whether you can hang on or fall off.
Compared to recent Far Cry games, Primal is neither a relief nor a disappointment. It's really good at being violent open-world base-conquering simulator and it has a smattering of neat toys. Far Cry Primal is another One Of Those with a few wild tangents stretching and searching for new limitations. It's a predictable, albeit competently constructed, status quo machine humming along through another entry.
To the uninitiated, Soldiers' Soul is a bewildering amalgamation of expected clichés and probably not a fun thing to play. To Saint Seiya's audience, however, Soldiers' Soul is an impressive rendition of a respected series augmented with a glut meaningful (albeit mostly salvaged) content. For better or worse, the latter group is all Soldiers' Soul has in mind.
Just Cause 3's shortcomings are so painful because Rico Rodriguez was expected to become a modern superhero. He's not. He's just another guy who has grown complacent behind his extraordinary set of powers. On a base level his (and by extension Just Cause 3's) explosive areas of expertise remain impressive, but his application falls well short of expectations and ultimately becomes inert. What good are the world's greatest explosions when you stop caring to see them?
Ride's exhilarating character eventually fades into a tedious milieu of assertive persistence. The loop of wanting to complete races to get better bikes and parts eventually breaks into a dead end, and the speed and power of exciting motorcycles slows into a chore. Motorcycle enthusiasts are an exemption, but for others it's hard to look at Ride as anything more than Another Racing Game.
Foregone is a whirring pastiche of ideas that came to define the last decade of side-scrolling action games. There remains an artful satisfaction to cutting through hordes of exquisitely fashioned monsters across splendid vistas but, without a thought to call its own, Foregone's performance will be consigned to oblivion the moment its player puts down their controller. It's a beautiful, sterile wasteland.
True to its name, Defective Holiday is a capricious but endearing vacation.
Like the pearlescent shimmer across its desert surface, Vane is difficult to observe and define with precise clarity. Its world presents either an invitation to wonder or a provocation to explore and it's often seized by the tension pulling in opposing directions. Vane can be brilliant and subversive or confusing and frustrating and it's impossible to separate its intentions from its misfortunes.
Detroit: Become Human is evidence that breathtaking production isn't effective camouflage for anemic dialogue and abysmal writing. By co-opting famous racial prejudices and projecting all of them onto society's assimilation of androids, Detroit spoils its power to create convincing drama. The sense of agency and control over its story remains exciting, but archetypal plotting and cosmetic platitudes leave Detroit without much to say about anything.
Yonder: The Cloud Catcher Chronicles has an earnest heart and an anxious mind. Brilliant landscapes and gorgeous vistas create a waking daydream while economic riddles and perfunctory direction recall the drag of reality. Yonder's strides, despite an admirable form, don't seem to take it anywhere.
Song of the Deep is a meandering lesson that not every reflection of Metroidvania has to be a grand odyssey. By that measure it's a serviceable decent into the great unknown with a handful of neat ideas. It's also too oblivious of its own limitations to leave a distinct impression in a crowded field. "Groundwork for something greater" isn't a beacon of optimism, but it's probably the finest impression Song of the Deep can manage.
Exploring the destructive psychosis of a plaintive individual is a noble, if not precarious, responsibility. The Park, however, can't decide if its manic behavior is either a means of identifying with its troubled protagonist or a symptom of its own decent into chaos.
Street Fighter V is loaded with meaningful changes and improvements to its namesake's divine infrastructure. As a game—a full-priced package sold under the assumption of a finished product—Street Fighter V is destitute and disappointing. Its value and service will expand and evolve over time, though one has to question the wisdom and motive of releasing Street Fighter V in its present condition.
The concept of The Escapists—make friends, make enemies, make crazy tools, and escape from prison through any applicable deviancy—is easy to fall in love with. Reality, positioning The Escapists as a beautiful machine undermined by the gears assigned to power it, is more cruel.
Mind Control Delete reforms Superhot's signature slow motion power fantasy into the shape of a procedurally generated roguelike. It retains the shiny spartan aesthetic, the bellicose narrative, and the most satisfying first-person shooter gimmick of the last decade, but the twists and tweaks behind its operation don't alter its basic complexion. Superhot felt euphoric when it was new. Mind Control Delete can only reheat that sensation of extravagance.
Saints Row: The Third was a sacred moment in time where lunatics reimagined the animus of an open-world crime game. It enabled players to thunderously lead a prestigious gang of miscreants and also turn themselves into a toilet. Nine years later Saints Row: The Third Remastered's glut of Content is more difficult to digest, but its outrageous ambience is still so sweet.
Pattern's blossoming world and ethereal music, forever trapped in a constant state of flux, are pathways to understanding the ambiguous complexion of the creative process. It suggests that ideas can be transitory as it explores the rivalry between indecision and confidence. The limitations are clear, by Pattern's own admission it's a fleeing experience, but with it comes the power to articulate one of the more abstruse processes of the imagination.