Death Stranding 2: On the Beach (2025)

Death Stranding has always been a bit of an odd duck in the gaming community. While many such as myself love the game for its bizarre world and unique gameplay, many players mock the “strand-type” game for sidelining action to focus on traversal. I fell in love with the isolated hikes interspersed with tense action, and the theme of connection was so masterfully woven into every aspect of the game. I spent dozens of hours making optional deliveries and building roads for other players to use. For my full thoughts on the original Death Stranding, read my review. When Death Stranding 2: On the Beach was announced, I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to dive back into the world. 

Death Stranding 2 picks up with Sam and Lou surviving in hiding near the border of Mexico. After being tracked down by an old colleague, Sam gets roped into another grand mission to connect Mexico to the Chiral Network. During this expedition, a mysterious “plate-gate” opens up, acting as a portal between North America and Australia. Sam traverses the plate-gate and sets out to connect Australia to the network as well. 

Where the original game focused on connection, Death Stranding 2 asks whether it was worth connecting all. Connecting The United States together via the Chiral Network has destabilized other portions of the world, causing rivers of tar to swallow large swathes of the planet. Ghostly BTs have become more common, and terroristic organizations have been emboldened to threaten the last pockets of humanity. This theme of questioning connection extends into personal relationships. Sam was always a loner before the events of Death Stranding, but opened his heart as he connected the continent. Now, Sam has to grapple with the repercussions of connections: grief, loss, and betrayal. 

I really love the idea behind the story and themes of Death Stranding 2. It’s a sophisticated tale of interpersonal conflict and real adult feelings disguised within a wacky sci-fi setting. But I felt the execution was often lacking. Death Stranding 2 is a massive game, having the player traverse dozens of settlements, and it feels like the story often meanders without much purpose. The game falls into a formulaic pattern where you make a deliveries to non-important side characters, and important cutscenes are reserved for when you board your mobile base of operations: the DHV Magellan. But those moments of real narrative progression are excellent, filled with emotional turmoil and heartbreaking reveals.

Part of the reason why the cutscenes are so compelling is due to the state-of-the-art technology used for motion capture and visual spectacle. Kojima Productions is at the top of the industry when it comes to graphical fidelity and animation, only competing with other heavy hitters like Naughty Dog. The amount of emotion that can be read through facial expressions and minute movements is so critical to the game. And having accomplished actors such as Norman Reedus, Léa Seydoux, and Elle Fanning playing these characters further brings them to life.

By now, everybody knows that Hideo Kojima has a penchant for the bizarre. The stories that he writes often have many moving parts and nonsensical elements. There’s a level of campiness that can often feel out of place in a serious story. But I’ve come to love the goofiness that comes with Kojima’s games. They don’t take themselves too seriously. One of the key deliveries in the mid game is to bring special yeast to a Pizza Chef and then deliver his pizzas to nearby survivors to get them to trust you. And the chef is a master of martial arts who teaches you to use pizza dough to incapacitate terrorists. 

When it comes to gameplay, Death Stranding 2 deemphasized the hiking traversal that its predecessor was known for. Making deliveries is still the core gameplay loop, but the sequel introduces vehicles very early on and features far more combat. I think for players that were skeptical about how little traditional gameplay was in the original game, these changes are probably a good thing. But personally, I was disappointed in how easy it was to always use a vehicle to reach your destination. Even when completing story missions, meaning there would be no roads or additional structures, there was never a place where I felt like I had to get on foot and navigate difficult terrain.

The reason I think this is a negative is because I really loved the unique aspect of being a human mule. Every package or piece of equipment you carried contributed to your weight and person. Carrying too much would slow you down, but more critically it shifts your center of balance, making it easier to fall over and damage the goods. You had to carefully consider which route you would take, streams and rivers were massive obstacles, and you always needed to bring ladders and climbing anchors to deal with sheer cliffs. This slow-paced, contemplative gameplay was utterly unique. Managing your inventory, planning a route, and then carefully trudging across the beautiful landscapes made the game almost meditative.

On paper, Death Stranding 2 still has all of the above aspects. It even adds new environmental obstacles such as floods, sandstorms, earthquakes, and landslides to increase the danger. I was really looking forward to these new threats, as my biggest issue with the original game was that it became too easy as the game progressed. But these weather effects are rarely more than an inconvenience. And the world of Death Stranding 2 feels like it was conveniently designed for vehicles. There’s almost always a path for a truck, even in places that should be craggy or steep, there’s always a convenient path to drive on. Using trucks trivializes so much of the challenge of the game. Inventory management becomes a breeze as trucks can carry massive loads, you don’t have to worry about falling over and damaging cargo, and you can zip past many of the game’s threats.

An argument could be made to just not use vehicles, but there’s no reason not to. Vehicles are fairly cheap to fabricate, make every aspect of deliveries easier, and have no downsides whatsoever. The world is massive, making traveling on foot more tedious than challenging. Players are always going to go with the path of least resistance, and vehicles are just too good to ignore. The traversal aspects of Death Stranding 2 are even easier than the original game, which is the opposite direction that I wanted the scales to tip. I wish that there were more sections in which using a truck was completely infeasible. For instance, when traveling to a new location for the first time there should be more obstacles making vehicle use impossible, but afterwards you could build roads to make backtracking with a vehicle possible. 

Instead of traversal, Death Stranding 2 places more emphasis on combat. There are far more camps of enemies as well as boss fights scattered throughout the game. This is by far the most improved aspect of the sequel, as combat was fairly rare in the original game. Having more combat scenarios sprinkled in with the classic traversal missions is fantastic. It increases the tension, knowing that at any moment you could be battling terrorists, robots, or ghostly BTs.

 Kojima clearly took inspiration from one of his previous games, Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain when designing the combat of Death Stranding 2. Stealth is encouraged to protect your cargo, but you’re welcome to take whatever approach you want. The game quickly introduces a multitude of different tools for the player to utilize. From assault rifles and shotguns to holograms and catchable monsters, there’s many ways to approach combat. I appreciate the variety, playing around with all the different options is great.

Combat in Death Stranding 2 packs quite a punch because of the game’s focus on real consequences. You aren’t a superhero sprinting and jumping with no regard for anything. You’re a regular guy who trips over boulders, gets weighed down in the mud, and feels the full impact of any damage. This is especially clear in the game’s handful of boss fights. Battling giant autonomous robots while trying to find your footing in a tar pit is a frantic experience. And watching Sam double over with exhaustion, covered in black muck and blood after dispatching a monster is relieving.

Visually, Death Stranding 2 is stunning. Part of what makes traversal-driven gameplay so appealing is just being able to take in the environments. The constant change in elevations gives you ample opportunity to stop and take in the sights of towering mountains, low-lying flood plains, and wind-whipped deserts. Kojima also has a penchant for excellent set pieces and explosive action sequences. One of my favorites being scrambling through the underbrush during a forest fire to rescue a wild kangaroo as hellfire rains from above. The soundtrack is equally great; there’s a fantastic collection of tunes to jam out to while making deliveries. From old timey easy-listening songs to indie folk to modern Japanese pop songs, I loved the variety as I drove across Australia.

Part of the magic of both Death Stranding games is how they drive the player to slow down and enjoy the process. With so many fantastic games being released yearly, it’s tempting to blast through them as fast as possible to have time to play everything. But while playing these games I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to take my time, build up the world full of structures and roads, complete some of the five-hundred optional deliveries. There’s a sense of satisfaction watching the harsh environment be transformed into a network of safe paths and bases. And reaping the rewards of those building efforts by driving your truck miles across the world to deliver some packages is so addictive.

Bigger isn’t always better. I think Death Stranding 2 would have benefited from being scaled down a tad bit. I think the story and the gameplay suffer from having to accommodate for such a massive world. The story meanders for long stretches of time between major outposts. And the large map forces the use of vehicles to minimize tedium. By the time I reached the final third of the game, I was starting to get a bit worn out and just wanted to see the game through to its conclusion. I think cutting back on some of the more unnecessary missions and refining the remaining ones to be more interesting would have gone a long way.

It’s hard to explain what makes the Death Stranding games so enjoyable to play. To an outsider, it may sound like I’m describing the life of a post-apocalyptic Amazon delivery driver. But these games are so much more than that. They’re about connection, meditation, beauty, and grief, with a healthy sprinkling of Kojima’s weirdness to keep you on your toes. Death Stranding 2 doesn’t quite deliver everything I wanted out of the sequel. But it does have its own strengths that I’m sure many will prefer over the original. It is for these reasons I give Death Stranding 2: On the Beach an 8/10. It may not be for everyone, but I spent countless hours roaming the gorgeous and bizarre world that Kojima and his team crafted.

Hollow Knight: Silksong (2025)

No game may have been more highly anticipated than Hollow Knight: Silksong. Team Cherry surprised the world in 2017 with the debut of Hollow Knight, and one of their Kickstarter funding goals promised a second playable character: Hornet. That promised DLC expanded in scope until it eventually became its own standalone game. It’s been over 6 years since the game was first revealed and after the long wait I wondered if the lightning-in-a-bottle of the original could be recreated. But after playing the game, I can confidently say that Silksong picks up right where Hollow Knight left off. For my thoughts on Hollow Knight, check out my review from when the original was released.

The brilliance of Silksong begins with its world. Kidnapped by religious zealots, Hornet arrives in the land known as Pharloom. It’s inhabited by numerous varieties of bugs, but the common thread connecting them is religious devoutness. It’s clear that Pharloom is a kingdom that has crumbled into dust, only whispers and tradition carry the travelers to summit the peaks where the holy Citadel stands.

As a metroidvania, Silksong frees its players to explore and discover organically. With nothing but the nebulous goal of reaching the Citadel as your guide, you set out on a blind journey. Silksong takes inspiration from the storytelling of FromSoftware’s games such as Dark Souls and Elden Ring. Taking in the dying world around you, piecing together the puzzle of what happened through vague texts and environmental storytelling. Nothing is directly told to you, but the world and its artistry wonderfully communicate what kind of place Pharloom once was.

Take for instance the Underworks, a mechanical nightmare of pipes, gears, and valves beneath the Citadel. The opulence of the Citadel is powered by these dingy chambers. It is here where workers tirelessly labor to maintain the holy grounds that they never see. When they attack you for your intrusion, they only drop a pittance of rosaries, the currency of Pharloom. As you’ve progressed through the game you’ve gained increasingly more rosaries in each area from tougher foes, but the Underworks represent the poor dregs of the Citadel. There’s even a hidden room in which you can run on a treadmill to generate power, only to be rewarded with a single rosary for the effort. And it is here in the Underworks where the benches which have been the universal sign of rest and have acted as your checkpoints of safety incur a cost of 15 rosaries for a single use. Without any dialogue or text, Silksong portrays a dystopian society where a class is exploited and drained to fuel the grandiosity of an empty cathedral.

It’s these vignettes and partial truths of the past that make exploring Pharloom so compelling. The art and sound design of Silksong is also top-notch. An enormous amount of care was put into making each area distinct and filled with details. It’s from these details where the hidden stories are filled with life. The music is equally compelling, often harboring somber moods as you explore this crumbling kingdom. Yet frantic melodies make an appearance when engaging with any of the numerous bosses of Silksong.

The gameplay of Silksong is that of traditional 2D metroidvania. You explore massive areas, fighting enemies, platforming across dangerous pits, and collecting hidden boons to increase your power. The major upgrades that you find act as keys that unlock new paths in the world, as well as being purposeful in combat. What I love about Silksong is its non-linearity and its reluctance to guide the player. It is up to you to figure out where to go, often you have to choose at random between forks in the road. When you enter a new area, you are blind, there is no map until you find the mapmaker. You’re forced to rely on instinct and curiosity. I find this more compelling than being given explicit directions. Each path has something to be discovered, but the further you wander from a resting place, the more risk you incur.

Pharloom is a harsh place, filled with enemies, obstacles, and traps. Resting at a bench acts as a checkpoint, restoring your health and letting you respawn there if you die. And if you die, you lose all the currency you are holding, and you only get a single chance to reclaim it. The game design makes the world incredibly dangerous, and you can take nothing for granted. Every time you hit an enemy, you generate a single pip of silk, and nine pips of silk are required to heal. Getting hit at all is costly, and extreme caution is warranted when traversing Pharloom. I personally love this feeling of playing on a knife’s edge. You can never let your guard down or brute force your way through obstacles. You have to master your movement and your arsenal.

What makes Silksong stand out from its predecessor is the number of tools available to the player. Hornet is a much nimbler protagonist than Ghost from the first Hollow Knight. She acquires many different tools to dodge and evade. But this agility comes at a cost, as she is also much more fragile than Ghost. As the game progresses, many enemies and traps deal two ticks of damage rather than one. This happens fairly early on in the game. While there has been an uproar online about this steep spike in difficulty, I wasn’t offput by this at all. I thought the difficulty was well-balanced to provide an adequate level of challenge. Silksong is the sequel to Hollow Knight, and it was originally intended as DLC. It makes sense that it picks up where Hollow Knight left off. Furthermore, Hornet is swift and has so many more tools at her disposal to make encounters easier. Making use of these tools makes the game so much more approachable.

Not only do you unlock various movement options, but spells, crests, and tools also can be found to customize your moveset. Spells are powerful abilities that cost silk to use. Tools come in the form of both equipped passive bonuses and accessories that you can deploy in combat such as throwing needles or caltrops. And crests are complete game-changers as they entirely alter Hornet’s attacks and innate abilities. For example, the Beast crest modifies the basic heal to instead be a life-stealing effect when you claw at enemies. I found that tinkering with the different options and finding combinations that I liked was immensely enjoyable.

The boss fights of Silksong are the cherry on top of the already excellent gameplay. They all have distinct attack patterns and arenas that make them stand out from one another. But I was most impressed by the lack of restraint shown by Team Cherry. Most bosses only have 3 or 4 attacks, limiting the number of tells and timings that you have to memorize. I was able to easily find openings and gain confidence on the tougher foes, transforming the fights into a dance as Hornet nimbly evades blows and returns damage with her needle. The design of these fights has a knack to seem intimidating at first, but quickly become manageable once you learn the patterns.

As a metroidvania, discovery is a key aspect of the gameplay loop. Finding secrets, uncovering new areas, and remembering where to use your new abilities are part of the fun. For the most part, Silksong nails this. The lack of guidance makes these discoveries more organic and rewarding. But I do have a minor gripe with some of these well-kept secrets. I don’t mind when minor rewards such as health upgrades or tools are well-hidden, they are bonuses for having a keen eye. But I was disappointed by how many major areas were so incredibly concealed. I missed a handful of these areas initially, and only found them when I was aiming for 100% completion. One or two of these areas being secret is fine, but Silksong is a massive game and finding the fake walls leading into these secret zones is like finding a needle in a haystack.

My other minor issue with Silksong is its propensity for dull fetch quests. There are dozens of quests in the game, many of them being fun journeys that result in a boss fight or extra bit of lore. But there are also many repetitive fetch quests that have you slay some number of nearby enemies. The majority of the time these enemies are the same ones you’ve been fighting for hours at this point. These kinds of quests are just dull and act as padding, which the game doesn’t need at all since it is already so huge.

After such a long wait, I was a bit nervous that Silksong wasn’t going to live up to its sky-high expectations. But I was thoroughly impressed with the immersive world and tight gameplay. It is a continuation of Hollow Knight, but it doesn’t feel totally derivative because Hornet plays so differently from Ghost. The ability for the artistry of the world to tell a wordless story is truly special. It is for these reasons that I give Hollow Knight: Silksong a 9.5/10. If you haven’t played either of the Hollow Knight games, do yourself a favor and play the best metroidvanias of the last couple decades.

Silent Hill (1999)

Horror and terror are not the same emotion. Horror is the shocking, revulsed feeling after witnessing a heinous event. Games like Resident Evil thrive on the sort of disgust caused by its horrifying mutants. Terror, on the other hand, the sense of dread and building anxiety when you know something awful is about to happen. It’s the deep-seated instinct meant to warn you that something is wrong and that you are in danger, even if you can’t see it yet. Terror is the focus of Silent Hill. The thick mist covering the abandoned town, the static of the radio, the disquieting music; everything about the game puts you on edge.

 Silent Hill begins with a car crash on a wooded road in the fog. Harry Mason wakes up in a small-town cafe, separated from his young daughter, Cheryl. It’s immediately apparent that something strange is happening, as there are no residents in the town other than the policewoman who rescued him. Harry sets out to explore the town shrouded in fog, with ominous craters blocking the roads and bizarre monsters stalking him. 

As you progress through the game, you uncover hints as to the cultish conspiracy that has engulfed the town. Demonic symbols are scrawled on the ground and riddles are scrawled in blood on the walls. The few residents that remain whisper of the occult and insinuate sins that swallowed the sleepy town. You track Cheryl to the school, the hospital, the amusement park, and through the eerie streets. The world transforms into a nightmarish reflection of itself, filled with rusty and grimy metal surfaces. The metallic tinkling footsteps and distorted, echoing music is deeply disquieting. 

The story of Silent Hill is solid, especially when compared to its contemporaries such as the early Resident Evil games. The supernatural world and psychological horror are so much more compelling than straightforward zombie or monster plot. You intrinsically know that something is deeply wrong with the town, and there is some connection to Cheryl. The locations you visit seem to indicate traumatic memories, despite never having been to the town before. Every aspect of the game is disturbing and atmospherically oppressive.

At its core, Silent Hill is a survival horror game. You explore the world, collecting resources such as health packs, ammunition, weapons, and items to solve puzzles. The streets are filled with enemies such as rabid dogs, flying leathery screamers, and knife-wielding ghouls. There are far more enemies than there are bullets, meaning you will have to think carefully when you want to fight back and engage the enemy. The game encourages the use of melee weapons such as crowbars and sledgehammers to conserve ammo, but it forces you to get up close to the monsters, risking damage or being overrun with multiple enemies. 

While the individual enemies are somewhat easily avoided, there’s a constant anxiety due to the scarcity of resources. Moreover, the game’s visual and audio design further cause unease. The thick fog obscures your vision; you can’t see more than a few feet in front of you. You have a radio that emits static when an enemy is nearby. You know that there are enemies all around you, but you can’t see them. You have to roam the town filled with dead-ends and maze-like corridors with the persistent knowledge that monsters are right outside your field of vision. The anxiety is further heightened by the distorted and disturbing soundtrack constantly thrumming in your ears.

Silent Hill also contains a handful of cryptic puzzles. These are woven into the themes of the game by using occult symbols, macabre visuals, and strange riddles. These are much more cerebral than the lock-and-key puzzles featured in the early Resident Evil games. You have to discern meaning from seemingly nonsensical texts. While I do enjoy these kinds of puzzles, there was one in particular that I thought was very tricky to work out with many different ways that the hint could be interpreted.

The thing about playing older games like Silent Hill is that you have to be prepared for some clunky controls. Moving around 3D spaces was still in its infancy, and control schemes were not universal. Silent Hill utilizes tank controls, making movement a bit clumsy if you aren’t used to having to rotate to move in different directions. Luckily, the camera does follow the player quite a bit, making it a bit easier to deal with the movement rather than the jarring transitions of the fixed camera angles from Resident Evil. Still, the tank controls are a relic of the past that can be tricky to deal with. 

Silent Hill is the terror counterpart to the horror of Resident Evil. Instead of zombies and gore and bombastic action, there’s a thick fog, static-filled radio, and cryptic riddles scrawled in blood. It’s an incredibly unsettling game, and every decision was made to achieve that goal. It has an uncanny ability to unnerve and cause panic with its masterful atmosphere and hellish soundscape. Despite its age, Silent Hill is a piece of art. It is the video game manifestation of a nightmare.

Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999)

The first two Resident Evil games are known for their dense environments that function as puzzle boxes. In comparison, Resident Evil 3: Nemesis is a sprawling action game. The increase in scope leads to a bombastic finale for the original trilogy. It doesn’t just retread the same ideas from its predecessors; it escapes from the narrow hallways of the mansion and police station and sets the player loose in the chaotic ruins of Raccoon City. While I did prefer the tighter experiences of the first two games, I did appreciate how Resident Evil 3: Nemesis expanded the scope and scale of the series.

After returning to the city after escaping the mansion, Jill Valentine finds herself back in Raccoon City. But all of her rescue team colleagues have disappeared, and the city is aflame with zombies roaming the streets. A horrible mutant, Nemesis, is programmed to hunt down Jill as she is one of the remaining members of the team responsible for foiling Umbrella’s schemes.

From the outset, Resident Evil 3: Nemesis is far more open than its predecessors. You will be roaming the streets, ducking in and out of numerous buildings to acquire the resources needed to proceed. I appreciated the change in environment, and the expanded scope allowed for a variety of different scenarios. Instead of spending the whole game in a single building, you’ll be heading to workshops, a cozy restaurant, an ominous clocktower, a zombie-filled hospital, and a sinister park. The larger streets allow for hordes of zombies and more action-fueled gameplay. 

The main threat of Resident Evil 3: Nemesis is its namesake, the bioengineered mutant Nemesis. He roams the streets, hunting down Jill. There’re quite a few scripted chase sequences throughout the game in which the player can elect to run from Nemesis or fight him. Fighting him is risky and consumes a ton of ammunition, but rewards the player with weapon parts to upgrade your arsenal. And it is in this that the game’s key philosophy becomes clear: an emphasis on player choice.

The first two games in the series of course had some decision making around if and when to consume resources such as ammo, health packs, and save ribbons. But the primary driver of those games were its lock-and-key puzzles. Discovering objects and information to be used elsewhere in the world to unlock a previously blocked path. Of course, that still exists in Resident Evil 3: Nemesis, but to a lesser extent. Instead, this iteration of the series constantly wants the player to make choices to alter their experience.

There are the obvious choices like fighting or running from Nemesis, it presents an upfront risk and hefty cost to potentially become stronger later. There are also frequent binary choices presented in quicktime events that lead you down slightly different paths. But there are some more subtle decisions being made as well, none being as crucial as the ammo crafting system. Throughout the game gunpowder is scattered in two main types. Combining gunpowder in different quantities creates different types of ammo. Do you want to spend a ton of gunpowder to create immensely powerful freeze rounds? Or stockpile a few boxes of gunpowder type B to create extra shotgun ammo? Or do you desperately need ammo now so you spend a box of gunpowder type A for a handful of handgun bullets? The player has so many ways to tackle the game, showcasing the game’s strength of player choice.

Having so many possibilities makes Resident Evil 3: Nemesis a prime candidate for replaying, and this is further supported by the randomization aspect of the game. Items and enemies are partly randomized, making every play through a little different. While I think I prefer the multiple characters of Resident Evil 2 that change the route significantly, having randomized aspects and tons of decision making is hugely impressive for a horror game from 1999. 

The increased scope of Resident Evil 3: Nemesis, came at a cost. The dense environments of the first couple of games were deemphasized in favor of increased action. Truthfully, I kind of missed the tighter environments. Trying to figure out how to escape the cramped hallways of the mansion or the police station was somehow cozy. It sounds insane for a horror game, but becoming intimately familiar with the puzzle-box worlds was a comforting experience despite the threat of zombies lurking around every corner. While exploring the chaotic ruins of Raccoon City was a welcome change-of-pace, I miss the more atmospheric and oppressive corridors of the first two games.

Paradoxically, despite mixing up the formula, this entry also feels derivative of its predecessors when it comes to horror. While the series stories can often feel like schlock-horror, the real risk of unknown enemies makes traversing the world terrifying. You never know what dangers you will come across, threatening you to lose huge chunks of progress. Careful navigation is imperative, leading to a subconscious fear of any new enemies. The problem with Resident Evil 3: Nemesis is that there aren’t any new enemies. The first game obviously was novel and every enemy stoked fear, and the sequel introduced the hulking super-enemies like Mr. X who followed you around. This time around, you’ve seen all the basic enemies before, and Nemesis himself is a retread of the concept of Mr. X. There aren’t any new threats, and if you’ve played the first two games it’s unlikely that you will be scared by the retreaded ground of the third game. 

As a finale to the original trilogy, I think Resident Evil 3: Nemesis did an excellent job at escalation. The burning city and hordes of zombies make Spencer Mansion look downright calm in comparison. The introduction of ammo crafting as well as randomized enemy and item placement emphasizes the importance of decision making in this entry in the series. But despite these strengths, I missed the denser worlds and more novel experiences that the first two games provided. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis marks a clear shift towards more action and away from the escape rooms of the first games in the series. And even though I enjoy the former, I prefer the latter.

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword (2011)

In the heyday of the Nintendo Wii, everything utilized motion controls. It was the core feature of the console, and of course The Legend of Zelda could not miss the opportunity to implement sword fighting with the Wiimote. And there is no doubt that The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword attempts to maximize the use of motion controls. Unfortunately, a handful of issues with the nature of motion controls along with some questionable design decisions make this my least favorite of the 3D The Legend of Zelda titles.

Skyward Sword has an incredibly unique setting in the series. The last remnants of humanity live on a flying rock, high above the clouds. They’ve built a small community and learn to take to the skies by flying on the backs of their loyal Loftwing birds. Rumors of the surface are nothing but folklore until Zelda gets swept into a vortex and plunges below the clouds. The player of course sets out on a journey to rescue their friend by exploring a handful of locations.

The best moments of Skyward Sword are when the player is left to explore, solve puzzles, fight enemies, and conquer dungeons unimpeded. There’s no doubt that the game boasts some of the best dungeons in the entire series. There’s some wildly creative ideas and well-crafted trials that are the highlight of the game. The desert area in particular has dungeons that make use of timeshift stones that create localized pockets of the past. Using these stones to reveal ancient devices and to clear away millennia of sand to progress forward is a phenomenal idea for puzzles. And the dungeons in the forest are wonderfully atmospheric and serene. Even the moments leading up to dungeons are interesting and unique, utilizing new mechanics and ideas that slowly ramp up in the classic The Legend of Zelda fashion.

Unfortunately, moments in which Skyward Sword lets the player play without interruption are fleeting. From the outset, the game bombards the player with text and cutscenes. The game constantly stops in its tracks to spew unnecessary dialogue, breaking the flow of gameplay. The biggest culprit of this is the spirit of your sword, Fi. She regularly will appear, stating the obvious. It often feels like the game is treating you as if you were stupid, halting progress to tell you “I have calculated the place that you are going towards has an 80% probability of being the correct direction”. The excessive handholding not only feels like an insult to the player’s intelligence, but it also actively impedes the player from having fun.

When I think of The Legend of Zelda, I think of adventure and exploration. The structure of Skyward Sword is far more linear and constrained than the other games in the series. Outside of the starting town in the sky, there are only 3 main areas: forest, volcano, and desert. The game revisits these biomes multiple times each, often revealing new areas that were previously hidden. Occasionally these retreads are interesting because there are spirit trials that test your navigational knowledge of these familiar zones. But after the third visit to each area, I was longing for something fresh. And it didn’t help that the last third of the game felt padded out with unnecessary fetch quests, repeated boss fights, and retreading.

It’s worth mentioning that each zone is completely isolated. The only way to go from the forest to the desert for instance is to find a statue, teleport to the sky, fly to the appropriate hole in the clouds, then drop down into the desert. It feels disjointed, and the sky ends up being a giant level select screen rather than its own thing. And it doesn’t help that flying is a dreadfully boring affair. There’re rarely any obstacles or anything to do in the sky, just fly in a straight line. And because of the motion controls, you’re forced to keep your hand pointed straight, waggle the remote to flap upwards, occasionally pointing downwards to gain some speed. It’s tedious and uncomfortable.

The sky itself is completely devoid of anything. There’s a bunch of tiny islands with practically nothing on them. And there’s occasionally a floating rock with an enemy that shoots rocks at you. That’s it. It’s pretty uninteresting mechanically and visually. Flying should be exciting and thrilling but it’s just boring and cumbersome in Skyward Sword. The one redeeming aspect of the sky is that the game’s main town, Skyloft, is amazing. It’s dense, has cozy hobbit houses for its residents, lots of side quests to discover, and a central town bazaar that hosts all of the shops. Skyloft has a ton of personality to it and I love it, even if the surrounding sky is a barren wasteland.

Even though motion controls never really caught on past the Wii era outside of some niche uses, I appreciate how dedicated Skyward Sword is to this control scheme. Nowadays, motion controls are a gimmick, but Skyward Sword was fully committed to maximizing its use of motion controls. The sword fighting, aiming the slingshot and bow, puzzles, and even basic movement all incorporated motion controls in some way. I don’t think it was always successful, but I appreciate that the developers didn’t treat the game’s central mechanic as just a gimmick, but as the guiding principle of design. It’s a unique scheme that helps Skyward Sword stand out from all the other The Legend of Zelda games. When it works, the motion controls are immersive and give a tangible, weighty feel to your actions. You aren’t just pressing buttons, but swinging your arms and aiming your controller like you would a sword and bow respectively. Unfortunately, the motion controls don’t always work.

It’s an extremely common occurrence in Skyward Sword for the motion controls to just not quite do what you want them to do. Many of the game’s enemies and obstacles require specific directional inputs, and having your attacks rebuked because the game reads your stab as a slash is frustrating. Unfortunately, motion controls will never match the preciseness of traditional button controls. When you press a button, you know exactly what will happen. When you try to swing horizontally, the game may interpret a slight diagonal angle and cause a misfire. Despite the fact that Skyward Sword is a fairly easy game, it is consistently frustrating due to the flukiness of the motion controls.

Another factor in the frustration of Skyward Sword is the enemy design. The game clearly wanted to emphasize the motion controls in sword fighting. Most enemies need to be hit from a specific angle to deal damage, and enemies with swords constantly block in different directions, requiring you to attack where they aren’t blocking. This is fine, the problem is that many of these sword-wielding enemies read your inputs and instantly block wherever you decide to attack. If they are holding the sword to their left, you try to swing at their right side, but the game instantly snaps their sword to the right to block your hit. I found it more effective to just flail around randomly rather than take my time to strike precisely because the enemies would just block my attacks if I tried to fight the “proper” way. It really is a shame because the sword fighting is the area where the motion controls could have shined, but it’s way simpler to use other strategies rather than engage in a proper duel.

My final gripe with motion controls is that they make the entire experience mentally exhausting. There is no break from them. You will always be fumbling trying to make the game do what you want it to do. I want to just be able to play for a few hours, get absorbed with the world, and go on an adventure. But the motion controls constantly break the spell of immersion, which is the exact opposite effect that they should have. Even when flying in a straight line you need to focus on keeping your wrist straight. There’s no escape from fighting the controls, which makes the entire game a drag.

I actually quite like the presentation of Skyward Sword. Visually, it’s a middle ground behind the cartoonish Wind Waker and the more realistic Twilight Princess. I think it’s a happy medium, and the impressionist environments are quite pleasant to look at. At a distance, the environments look painted with visible brush strokes and streams of light. I do think the game lacks scenic vistas due to the isolated nature of the areas, but it is pretty nonetheless. The soundtrack is fully orchestrated, and despite it being perfectly enjoyable it doesn’t have that memorable quality that The Legend of Zelda is known for.

I don’t really play The Legend of Zelda games for their stories, but I was pleasantly surprised by Skyward Sword in that aspect. It follows the same good vs evil as every other game in the series, but what makes this entry stand-out is its characters. There’s a handful of character arcs in the game that demonstrate actual growth, which is something rare in the series. I don’t think the story is revolutionary by any means, but I was pleasantly surprised by it.

I played the game in the recent HD remaster for the Switch, which came with a number of quality-of-life changes. The remaster reduced the number of interruptions that Fi forces upon the player. It also fixed one of the most infamous bugs of all time in which every item would halt the game to display a description every play session. I’m glad that the remaster did away with these intrusions, because even in the remaster there are a painful number of halts that kill the pacing. 


Overall, Skyward Sword is my least favorite of the 3D The Legend of Zelda games. Despite having some of the best dungeons in the series, there’s just far too many massive problems that I have with the game. The disjointed world, the constant interruptions, and the imprecise motion controls firmly cement Skyward Sword as the worst in the series. I appreciate its attempts to be unique and have a novel control scheme, but motion controls never reached the level of refinement that would be needed for anything other than some gimmicks. Still, it’s worth playing Skyward Sword for its cleverly designed dungeons.

Katamari Damacy (2004)

Simplicity. As games grow more complex and incorporate numerous systems that require paragraphs upon paragraphs to understand, it makes me long for the uncompromising simplicity of Katamari Damacy. But don’t mistake simplicity for being dull, Katamari Damacy is one of the most unique and iconic games in history. And it’s quickly become one of my favorites. Once you get the ball rolling, it’s hard to stop playing.

The King of All Cosmos accidentally destroyed all the stars in the sky after having a few too many drinks. He sends his son, the 5-centimeter-tall prince to Earth to roll up anything he can into a ball to create new stars. The Katamari can only pick up objects that are sufficiently smaller than it, requiring you to slowly ramp up into an all-encompassing ball of destruction.

There’s something enormously satisfying about beginning every level with a tiny Katamari, only capable of picking up thumbtacks and coins, and steadily growing in size. That table that used to be an obstacle? It will eventually become part of your Katamari. That car that ran into you, flinging you across the road? Grow a bit more then get your revenge by rolling it up. 

Nothing is safe from the eventuality of becoming part of the Katamari. But bumping into objects larger than the Katamari will cause you to lose mass, requiring a bit of careful planning and navigation. There’s a balancing act of trying to collect the largest items to grow the fastest in the allotted time, but being cautious not to be overly ambitious and bump into objects that are too large, wasting precious time and siphoning off previously collected items. This little bit of friction is necessary to keep the game interesting. And it makes it all the more satisfying when you come across a group of objects that are the perfect size.

Because the core concept is so simple, I think it’s a boon that the control scheme is a bit tricky to master. While some may bemoan the tank controls as being unintuitive, I think they fit the game perfectly. There would be very little challenge and no mastery to be had if the Katamari was easy to control. And moreover, it fits thematically as well. Of course a hulking ball of stuck-together objects is a bit unwieldy to push around. It should be difficult to turn, maneuver, and stop your momentum. Mastering your control of the Katamari and planning out different routes through the levels also provides an excellent opportunity for replaying levels to try to get a max-sized Katamari in the time-limit.

Despite the prospect of a giant sticky ball rolling through communities causing untold destruction sounding horrifying on paper, Katamari Damacy is a light-hearted game. It’s full of whimsy and surreal depictions of Japanese culture. You have to look no further than the game’s introductory video of dancing pandas, singing ducks, and rainbows flying everywhere to get a feel for the game’s style. It’s just a joy to roll around and explore the whimsical world. And it helps that the soundtrack is also superb, filled to the brim with catchy and joyous tunes that are hard to get out of your head.

My one small critique of Katamari Damacy is that I wish there were a handful more areas in the game. There are 19 total levels, but each level takes place in one of 3 areas. I don’t mind revisiting the same places, especially because new portions of the areas open up as the Katamari progressively expands, but I would have loved to see two or three more distinct areas to explore. I actually enjoyed revisiting the same areas a handful of times because I learned more about the areas in each subsequent visit, increasing my mastery and making the world that much more memorable. Truthfully, my request is a bit of a nitpick. Especially because the complaint boils down to “I want more Katamari Damacy”.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Katamari Damacy is one of the greatest games of all time. It’s equally parts unique and playful. It’s unlike any other game out there, and it’s a game that everybody should play. Katamari Damacy is just pure fun, plain and simple. Not every game needs to be a hodgepodge of ideas and systems. Sometimes, it’s enough to just roll a big ball around.

Bayonetta 3 (2022)

Bayonetta 3 is one of the most frustrating games I have ever played. It’s got such enjoyable core gameplay with a ton of skill expression, but the game constantly interrupts the player with a barrage of annoying gimmicks that get in the way. Mini-games aren’t new to Bayonetta, and having a few to provide some levity and a break from the high-octane combat is understandable. But Bayonetta 3 takes the concept way too far, to the point where it feels like the traditional combat is a minority of time spent in game. I suggest reading my thoughts on Bayonetta and Bayonetta 2 to get full context for the rest of this review. 

The combat of Bayonetta 3 follows the same formula as its predecessors. Weaving together punches and kicks, using your guns to maintain combos, and slowing down time through well-timed dodges. This iteration abandons the Umbran Climax mechanic from Bayonetta 2, which I think was smart because it was far too powerful. Instead, Bayonetta 3 introduces Demon Slave, a mechanic which lets the player summon a demon to control and fight with. 

Demon Slave is a much-welcomed addition as it adds a ton of potential for skill expression and mastery. While summoning a demon you cannot control Bayonetta, which means it’s ill advised to always be summoning as you would be a sitting duck for enemies. Instead, you’re encouraged to weave in summons for a couple of attacks in the middle of your combo, letting you extend your combos and deal massive damage without putting yourself at risk. There’re eight main demons to unlock through the course of the game, each having their own abilities to experiment with. Charm enemies with Madam Butterfly, lay tracks for the Wartrain to run over foes, or you or make it rain blood with the frog demon Baal.

Like its predecessors, Bayonetta 3 has a variety of weapons to unlock and play with. The combination of weapons and demons allows the player to really express themselves to the fullest. Combining different weapons and demons gives a ludicrous amount of potential for mastery. Action games like the Bayonetta series are about more than simply defeating your enemies, but looking cool while doing it. The Demon Slave mechanic provides a ton of spectacle as a godzilla-like demon breathes unholy fire while Bayonetta dances to control it like a puppet. It looks cool and it is a ton of fun to decimate enemies with your demonic pets.

The cost of such grandiose spectacle is visual clarity. Both the player’s demonic summons and the enemies in this game are massive, often occupying the entire screen. Combine that with fast-paced action and colorful effects for an assault on the eyes. I often had an extremely difficult time parsing what was happening on the screen. The camera really struggled and often got stuck inside the bodies of the behemoth demons and enemies. It’s unfortunate because outside of these hiccups, the combat is amazing.

While I did love the core combat of Bayonetta 3, I was shocked by how infrequently the game lets the player partake in it. There’s an abundance of cutscenes, gimmicky sections, and alternate character chapters that disrupt the game’s flow. The Demon Slave mechanic isn’t limited to combat, the game has numerous sections that highlight the other capabilities of the summonable monstrosities. I wouldn’t mind having a few traversal challenges, puzzles, or mini-games tied to Demon Slave, but there’s just way too many interruptions. Sometimes I just want to fight bad guys, not slowly pick up statues and place them on a scale with my bird-demon. Or play the world’s slowest game of rock-paper-scissors as Godzilla. These sections just aren’t very fun. Having a wall of text thrown at you to learn a whole new control scheme for a brief mini-game is clunky and ruins the pace of the game.

Aside from the gimmick sections, Bayonetta 3 is also plagued by the non-Bayonetta chapters. A new character, Viola, is a major player in the story and gameplay. Compared to Bayonetta’s wide array of weapons and demons, Viola only has a single weapon and single demon. She is way less interesting to play than our titular hero, and her control scheme takes a lot of getting used to because it is wildly different from Bayonetta’s. There’s also a handful of chapters featuring Jeanne which serve as a side-scrolling espionage mission. The Jeanne chapters aren’t terrible, but on top of all the other interruptions I found myself wishing that I could just play as Bayonetta some more.

To be honest I don’t particularly care about the story of the Bayonetta series that much. The characters are definitely memorable and quirky, but the plots have always been a convoluted mess. Bayonetta 3 is no exception to this. While I’m not shocked that I found the story of Bayonetta 3 to be dumb, I was surprised by how much time was spent on it. There’s 4 hours of cutscenes in a 14-hour game. For a story-driven game that’s an acceptable ratio, but this is Bayonetta. I want action, I want spectacle, I don’t want to watch hours of cutscenes of a nonsensical story.

The premise of the plot is that the multiverse is under threat by some force known as Singularity. We travel to alternate universes to see alternate versions of Bayonetta and collect special gems to be used to travel to Singularity’s universe and defeat him. You repeat the universe-hopping schtick a bunch of times without much plot advancement until the very end, at which point things go from boring to ridiculous. Again, I wasn’t expecting a narrative masterpiece. But between the gimmicks, Viola chapters, and Jeanne chapters I had no patience left for long, drawn out cutscenes with little substance.

It really is a shame that Bayonetta 3 is crammed with so much superfluous content. It’s the perfect example of “less is more”. It possibly has the best combat in the series, and therefore some of the best combat in all of gaming. But the game is dragged down by a bombardment of underbaked gimmicks, boring alternate characters, and never-ending cutscenes. It is for these reasons that I give Bayonetta 3 a 5.5/10. It is by far my least favorite entry in the series, but if you can look past all of the junk, there is a treasure trove of amazing combat to be uncovered.

Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne (2003)

Shortly after the success of the original Max Payne, the development of a sequel began. Upon first glance, it seems like Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne is just more of the same, leveraging the mechanics, setting, and characters that made the first game so iconic. But there’s a lot of subtle changes to gameplay and the writing that elevates the sequel above its predecessor in many ways. I recommend reading my review on the original Max Payne to get full context for the remainder of this review. 

Where the first game was a fairly straightforward revenge tale with some conspiracy and psychological aspects thrown in, the sequel’s approach to storytelling is more nuanced and focuses on its characters and their relationships. It takes place a couple years after the events in the original game with Max as a police detective. He gets pulled into the underground yet again because he stumbles onto a murder crime scene and runs into Mona Sax. As Max digs deeper into the web of conspiratorial organizations, the player also gets a glance into the broken psyche of Max Payne.

Despite getting his revenge on every person responsible for his wife and child’s death two years prior, Max is obviously still deeply unwell. Vengeance was a brief respite from the darkness, but the hole in Max’s spirit still remains. Seeing Mona again sends Max spiraling, and he desperately tries to chase her despite her ties to criminal organizations. At first, I was shocked by how quickly Mona and Max fell in love considering their only connection was from a brief encounter two years ago. But they met because they had both lost a loved one and were seeking revenge, and it becomes apparent that Mona and Max have a toxic dependency on one another. They clung to the first person that showed compassion and assisted them in their quests, and their relationship is their attempt at filling in the hole that their loved one left.

The character-driven story is a more mature and thought-provoking approach to storytelling compared to the straightforward thriller that the original Max Payne was. The writing noticeably improved in the sequel, there’s a lot less camp and cheesy lines. But there’s still hints of levity such as infamous gangster Vinnie Gognitti’s obsession with comic strip hero Baseball Bat Boy. Or the snippets of in-game TV show Dick Justice being an obvious parody of the original game. Revisiting Max and examining his mental state years after the death of his family and accomplishing his revenge was brilliant. And it culminates in the closing line with one of the most haunting yet hopeful quotes in any game that I’ve played.

The story isn’t the only obvious advancement made in Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne. Gameplay wise, the sequel cleans up many of the rough edges of the original. Enemy placement is decidedly less cheap, enemies are no longer hiding in corners or nooks ready to one-shot you with a shotgun. The adaptive difficulty aspect also feels smoother, even as the game got tougher, I never ran into those moments from the original game where I would shoot a basic foe point blank numerous times only for them to instantly kill me with a single pistol shot. These improvements went a long way to make the game less frustrating.

Another aspect of note is the improved physics engine. Disposing of enemies causes them to ragdoll across the screen and collide spectacularly with all sorts of objects in slow motion. There’s also a higher reliance on the use of bullet time. Killing enemies while in bullet time increases its potency, letting you move quickly while the world slows down. This lets you activate bullet time and clear out whole rooms while spinning around in slow-motion, dodging bullets and raining lead. While I do think putting more emphasis on bullet time, the unique feature of Max Payne, is great, I do think it was a tad overdone here. I liked that bullet time was an occasional treat in the original game. You had to earn your right to use it and you had to decide when the best time to make use of it was. In Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne, you can be in bullet time so often the novelty can wear thin. 

Atmospherically, I think the original game is far more iconic than the sequel. Walking the silent streets of New York City in a blizzard was chilling and moody. The apartments were grimy and disturbing to spend time in. Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne in comparison spends a lot of time in dull warehouses. The most interesting location is the fun house, and I do enjoy how it is revisited multiple times, letting you trigger traps on unsuspecting enemies as you learn the layout. But I missed the snow-covered streets and freezing cold that the original game conveyed so perfectly.

Overall, I think Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne improved over its predecessor in numerous ways. The more mature themes, the refined writing, the smoother gameplay experience, there’s no doubt that Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne is a technically better game than the original. But when I think of Max Payne, I think of wandering the frozen hellscape of Manhattan with the only respite being the graffitied and abandoned apartments filled with mumbling drug-addicts and grime. Even if I do think Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne is a better experience as a whole, I can’t help but remember the original more fondly.

Stephen’s Favorites of 2024

I feel like 2024 was the first year where I at least tried to keep up with recent releases. I wanted to highlight the games from this year that were my absolute favorites. Of course, as someone with a full-time job, a family, and other hobbies, I didn’t get to play every major release of this year. There were plenty of games on my radar that I didn’t get around to such as Indiana Jones and the Great Circle, Lorelai and the Laser Eyes, and the remake of Silent Hill 2. Here are all the 2024 releases that I managed to play:

Now let’s get into my favorites of the year.

UFO 50

UFO 50 is a truly unique experience and we may never see anything like it ever again. It’s a collection of 50 retro games made by the fictional company UFO Soft. It’s an absolutely astonishing collection in both breadth and depth. Every classic genre is included, but no entry is a simple imitation of an actual retro game. Every game has a unique twist. There are so many gems in the collection. You could easily sink hundreds of hours into UFO 50 and still have games you’ve barely touched. The creators behind UFO 50 describe it as a blend of retro aesthetics with modern game design knowledge, and they absolutely nailed that aspiration. Read my full review here.

Astro Bot

Astro Bot may not be the most innovative game out there, but damn is it fun. The joy I got from exploring its wonderfully detailed levels was reminiscent of playing Super Mario Galaxy as a kid. Every level had some sort of set piece, theme, or unique power-up that had me smiling. And I loved visiting the hub world to try to identify all the robots dressed up as classic Playstation characters. Astro Bot is just wholesome fun. Read my full review here.

Balatro

Balatro is the most addicting game on my list. In this roguelite deck-builder you play poker hands to score points. As you progress through a run, you can modify your deck in a multitude of ways. The main way to increase your score is by acquiring jokers which vary wildly in their effects. The sheer randomness of Balatro is what makes it shine. There are so many different ways to build a successful run and every time you play, you’ll think you found a new overpowered combo. Read my full review here.

Animal Well

Animal Well is a surreal metroidvania. It’s a labyrinth full of mystery. Figuring out how to explore and interact with the world and the animals was enthralling. Without any guidance, the world is up to you to discover. Secrets upon secrets are layered atop each other, some requiring a dedicated community to unearth. It’s one of the most atmospheric games that I’ve ever played with ethereal visuals and echoey auditory effects. Read my full review here.

Pikmin 4 (2023)

Pikmin has always been a series that has had underwhelming sales numbers. The cutesy aesthetics paired with the horrific reality that you will lead your squad of adorable little guys to their brutal demise means that the audience for these games is limited. I suspect people are discouraged by the time limit or the stress of having your pikmin get eaten, electrocuted, lit on fire, or otherwise killed. After the long hiatus following the release of Pikmin 3, it feels like Pikmin 4 is an attempt to appeal to a larger audience. In some ways, this is a fantastic thing. Pikmin 4 is the biggest, most complete game in the series. On the other hand, the concessions made in hopes of attracting new players actively harm the game.

Like every other game in the series, Pikmin 4 is a real-time-strategy game where you grow hordes of cute creatures known as pikmin to complete tasks for you. They are fairly brainless, so they form a symbiotic relationship with the player. You lead them around and command them to fight enemies, retrieve treasures, and carry pellets back to base so that more pikmin can sprout. Individually, each pikmin is weak, but as an intelligent swarm they can conquer the environment and tackle massive foes.

The most impressive aspect of Pikmin 4 is its scale. This game is bigger than its three predecessors combined. And it combines all the elements from the previous games to deliver the most complete experience. Every zone is a sprawling playground to explore with dozens of treasures to find. Caves make a return from Pikmin 2, but are intentionally designed rather than relying on randomized layouts. Challenges from Pikmin 3 are now woven into the main campaign and are honestly my favorite aspect of the whole game. Every type of pikmin makes an appearance. It’s genuinely impressive how much they managed to squeeze into this game.

The larger areas don’t feel overwhelming as they are somewhat split into smaller zones. As you explore there are predetermined spots for you to move your ship and the pikmin’s onion to, making it easier to haul treasures and grow more pikmin without having to run all the way back to the original landing site. Much of the game’s content is also found in the caves. While I wasn’t a fan of caves in Pikmin 2 due to their repetitive nature and random layouts, I think Pikmin 4 executes on the idea much better. They have intentional design to challenge the player on their puzzle-solving, combat, and navigation skills. I still much prefer the open surface areas to caves, and I do think that Pikmin 4 has a handful too many caves, but the dungeon-crawling they provide is a fun detour from the open-ended exploration.

Aside from caves, there are also Dandori challenges to be discovered as you explore. Dandori is the art of strategizing and executing a plan for maximum efficiency. To me, this is one of the strongest aspects of the Pikmin series. Dandori challenges come in two forms: time trials and battles. The time trials are 5–10-minute challenges in a small arena where you have to strategize how to get all the treasure as fast as possible. I loved solving each of these challenges like it was a puzzle. Figuring out where I should start, which pikmin to pluck, which enemies to defeat, and what order to do things was quintessential Pikmin. Getting all the platinum medals on these time trials was challenging but achievable, and it was my absolute favorite aspect of Pikmin 4.

The Dandori battles on the other hand had a major flaw in their execution. These battles are similar to the time trials, but you are facing an opponent with their own army of pikmin. You both try to collect treasures to gain points, and it is a frantic experience as treasures and enemies frequently respawn. There’s also power-ups and items to sabotage your foe. I really like the idea behind these battles and there is an extra layer of depth as you have to consider which treasures are worth fighting over. But the big issue I have is that for some reason these battles have a split screen view. Half the screen is dedicated to the AI opponent’s point-of-view. It makes playing these battles feel super claustrophobic and hard to tell what’s going on. I don’t think I ever looked at the opponent’s screen to see what they were doing. At the very least, this should have been a toggleable feature so I could turn it off and focus on my own strategy.

Another major shakeup to traditional Pikmin gameplay is the inclusion of night expeditions. These are missions solely focused on defending your base from enemies. You command a new variety of pikmin, called glow pikmin, which excel at combat. These missions are fairly short and aren’t particularly difficult, but I did enjoy taking a break from normal daytime exploration to partake in some frantic defense. Ultimately, I think Pikmin 4 attempts to appease every aspect of the series’ fanbase. Between the combat focused night expeditions, optimization heavy Dandori challenges that require multitasking, dungeon crawling caves, and the laidback exploration of regular areas there is something for everyone to enjoy. 

Not only does Pikmin 4 impress with the scope of its gameplay, but it also is one of the best-looking games on the Nintendo Switch. The environments, characters, and creatures all look fantastic. More importantly, I love the environments of the game. Every area is obviously inspired by micro-slices of Earth. A backyard garden becomes a massive area to explore. The shifting tide on the beach leads you to climb a sandcastle. My favorite area is the inside of a house. Figuring out how to navigate the furniture in the living room and kitchen is a great mix-up from the more naturalistic environments that Pikmin is known for. I really do love the focus on the environments created by humanity. It inspires imagination about what sort of life exists at the micro scale on our planet. Who knows, maybe there are little aliens running around collecting bottle caps and buttons when we aren’t looking.

Despite everything that Pikmin 4 does right, it also makes a ton of mistakes in an effort to appease new players. The issues are immediately apparent from the start as Pikmin 4 has one of the most painful tutorials I’ve ever played. The game takes forever to let the player start playing. And when it does, it constantly wrests control away from you to give you a tutorial on even the most straightforward of mechanics. Even after the tutorial the game throws giant text boxes on the middle of the screen during gameplay. After playing for 30 hours, I don’t need my vision obstructed by a tip telling me that there are pikmin at my base ready to be plucked. 

There’s just too much talking in general. The original Pikmin was an isolated, alien experience. After every day the characters talk on and on about nothing. Despite the large cast of characters, I can’t remember anything about any of them. In Pikmin 4 you take the role of a member of the rescue corps on a mission to rescue characters stranded on Earth. The rescue corps sets up a base where everyone you rescue hangs out. I appreciate the idea of having a cozy hub to hang out in, but it’s extremely barren and all the characters just feel like they are stapled on. I wish some temporary buildings or structures would be built as you progressed. Like having shops for items, upgrades, and cosmetics rather than just having those characters stand around in the open. I would have loved it if this hub had some personality.

Gameplay wise, there’s a wealth of issues. First and foremost is the control scheme. The game forces automatic lock-on on the player, with no way of toggling it off. The result is that many combat encounters are dumbed down to a single button press. You no longer have to aim your cursor; the game takes that skill out of the equation and guarantees that your thrown pikmin will land on target. The mechanic also becomes unwieldy during late-game encounters with many enemies because the automatic lock-on is incredibly “sticky”. A frequent annoyance is trying to prioritize a high-threat enemy but the game decides to prioritize random treasure or other tasks.

Pikmin 4 provides the player with a massive toolset. There’s a robust upgrade system that not only increases your health and elemental resistances, but also provides utility such as calling all idle pikmin to your side. There’re purchasable items such as bombs and stunning lightning to be used on tougher enemies. But the biggest addition to your arsenal is Oatchi. Oatchi is an alien dog trained to assist in rescue missions. Listen, I love dogs, and it’s hard not to love Oatchi, but Oatchi borderline breaks the game. 

The problem with Oatchi is that Oatchi is too good at everything. Oachi can fight enemies and can defeat most of them single handedly. Oatchi can carry heavy objects. You can ride on Oatchi’s back with your squad of pikmin. This is particularly useful because it makes it remarkably simple to have your squad of pikmin avoid enemy attacks. In previous games, having a squad of 100 pikmin could be unwieldy to control, but now it’s a breeze with Oatchi. You can also charge at enemies which deals damage, stuns them, and flings your entire squad of pikmin on their back. The vast majority of enemies are decimated by the combo of being stunned and having 100 pikmin attacking them. It genuinely feels like the game isn’t designed for the havoc that Oatchi can wreak. It’s until the final boss of the post-game that I encountered an enemy that felt designed with Oatchi in mind.

Aside from Oatchi, another major addition is the inclusion of ice pikmin. This new type of pikmin can freeze bodies of water if enough of them are occupying it. This is a great strategic addition as it creates traversable paths for your squad, but at the temporary cost of dozens of pikmin. In combat, ice pikmin are extremely overpowered as they can rapidly freeze enemies. This is balanced by having ice pikmin do less damage, but just a handful of them is enough to freeze enemies while the rest of the squad deals the damage. They are at least somewhat kept in check by the fact that your supply of ice pikmin is limited until very late in the game.

I think there was massive potential with providing the player all these overpowered options such as items, Oatchi, and ice pikmin. It could be framed that beating the game is a foregone conclusion, but maximizing your efficiency to do it quickly is the point. There’s only one Oatchi, so choosing what to have them do could be an interesting decision. Picking the optimal place to use items to save time could be fun. Ice pikmin would be more balanced by their lack of damage if you had to go quickly. But unfortunately, I don’t think Pikmin 4 does a good job at encouraging this efficiency by default.

For a game that emphasizes the concept of Dandori, there is very little need for speed outside of the Dandori challenges. There is no day limit in Pikmin 4. Every individual day has a timer, but it’s irrelevant since you can just end the day and start a new one rather than risking running out of time while doing a task. Dandori challenges and some of the post-game content are my favorite aspects of the game because they do put some pressure on the player. Having to think about the best way to use the tools available to you and what route to take is engrossing even if the combat is on the easier side.

The major flaw of Pikmin 4 is that it lacks an edge. There’s no element to provide friction that inhibits the player from just steamrolling the whole game. The wealth of new tools makes most combat encounters easy. Without a time limit there is no need to optimize and think about how to tackle exploration efficiently. There’s not even a significant number of puzzles like were present in Pikmin 3. As I played, I often felt that I was just going through the motions, that the game just kind of plays itself. I really would’ve appreciated something that made the moment-to-moment gameplay a tad more thoughtful. I’m ok with the game being relatively easy, but there still needs to be a threat to keep the player engaged.

The Pikmin series is one of evolution. You could never say that it’s stagnating or failing to implement new ideas. I love the grandiosity of Pikmin 4; it certainly feels like the ultimate Pikmin experience. But the lengths gone to attract new players makes the experience feel neutered. The automatic lock-on, the drawn-out tutorial, the lack of an overarching time limit, and the overpowered tools that the game provides all dull the edge that the series once had. It is for these reasons that I give Pikmin 4 a 7/10. Every game in the series has something to offer, and while Pikmin 4 may lack friction, it’s a solid collectathon with a ton of content.