Something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, and which I’ve been perpetually putting off, is writing some short Steam reviews for the games I’ve played over the past few years. I have read from many sources that hitting certain thresholds of positive reviews can make a significant difference in how well games can expect to perform on the platform, particularly lesser-known titles. In the not-too distant future I see myself attempting to complete and sell one of these small games that lives or dies based on reviews, so it really feels like I ought to be following the golden rule and getting some reviews written! It’s something that is quite easy to forget to do, however…
But! In a flash of brilliance, I cleverly got distracted from writing these Problem Machine posts for long enough to create the golden opportunity of needing some quick filler material to catch back up! This is, clearly, what true innovation looks like. Without further ado, I present: Some Steam Reviews I Wrote
This game is excellent in none of the ways you expect a game to be. Do you want good combat and stealth mechanics, believable and compelling characters, plausibility or verisimilitude? Too bad! Do you want to step into the mind of a crazed CIA asshole accidentally seducing women while getting backstabbed by literally everyone? Do you want to turn invisible and walk up to 5 guys and punch them in the throat? Do you want all of your choices to matter but in opaque and confusing ways that still feel like you’re at the whim of the author? Probably not, but after playing Alpha Protocol you’ll realize it was exactly what you needed in your life.
Finally a game that answers the question “What if The Legend of Zelda were deeply surreal and existentially unsettling?” Beat up monsters with a broom, confront troubling truths, dive into the glitchy heart of the machine to uncover more and weirder secrets.
Axiom Verge takes the weirdest and most alien aspects of Metroid and makes them weirder and more alien. An incredible feat of solo game development from Thomas Happ, it eschews almost every traditional “Metroidvania” movement and access upgrade to create unique new methods for navigating a hostile environment. The hacking and drone abilities gained early on provide fascinating new method for exploring and modifying the world, with a huge number of potential applications – implying an equally huge number of potential secrets to be uncovered.
I really enjoyed this game in a way I haven’t been able to enjoy any of its sequels or spinoffs. The game’s troubled development is stamped all over it – vast empty generic environments taking the place of the procedural level generation that never panned out, a story told haltingly through illustrations and radio comms, tonal whiplash between austere atmospheric music and batshit over-the-top characterizations. All of these add together to become more than the sum of their parts, creating an experience somehow melancholy and zany, akin to the weirder bits of the Fallout games. Unfortunately, for all subsequent titles they discarded the quiet loneliness and doubled, tripled, quadrupled down on the zaniness – I just don’t have the energy for all that. Still, I sometimes think back to the fond memories I have of Borderlands, and wonder if any other game will someday figure out a way to bottle that strange desolate deranged energy.
Braid no longer stands out in a market flooded with beautifully rendered puzzle platformers, but it still has a certain elegance, a way of fully exploring all of its mechanics and what they evoke, which is beautiful and fascinating. Though the art of game design may have moved on, and the developer may discredit himself with increasingly shameful and ignorant takes, Braid is still a game worth playing, enjoying, and studying for anyone interested in how games can express themselves through their mechanics.
If you like Symphony of the Night and its successors, you will probably enjoy Chasm. The movement and combat mechanics in particular show direct inspiration and will seem immediately familiar and comfortable to anyone who’s played the later Castlevanias. The movement upgrades, unfortunately, aren’t especially well-done: As the game progresses, it tends to become slightly less enjoyable to move around in, as you get different types of wall grab which behave unpredictably differently and clunky glide mechanics, with the ever-so-vital double-jump unlocked only quite late in the game. The randomization seems to be minimal, and overall I felt it slightly overstayed its welcome, but the solid mechanics and great soundtrack and art made Chasm an overall very enjoyable experience.
A deeply flawed but very special experience. This game gestures towards being an exploration of player choice and moral decision-making, but ultimately fails to deliver on this idea – at the same time, however, the overall journey succeeds at pairing meditations on death and moving on with a bumping soundtrack and rhythm game mechanics. You may perhaps disagree with some of its ideas and be frustrated by some of its choices, but if you allow yourself to take its journey you’ll probably find something to love and find deep meaning in.
Along with the other Skautfold games a remarkable example of what a small developer can accomplish in a limited timeframe. Though it’s rough around the edges, this is a capably made Metroidvania with some Souls-like mechanics mixed in. There are many interesting weapons, spells, and familiars to be found, which allows you to choose your favored approach to the obstacles and improvise as you go. What really stuck with me, though, is just the tone of it – exploring this huge weird living castle, with rough-but-evocative art and melancholic music, steeped in understated cosmic horror – there’s just not much like it out there (except for, of course, the other Skautfold games).
Along with the other Skautfold games a remarkable example of what a small developer can accomplish in a limited timeframe. Combat is largely timing-based and relatively simple once you get the hang of it: All of the primary weapons are available at the start and it’s largely a matter of taste which you prefer, while several secondary weapons are found later on which serve the double purpose of being useful in combat and opening up later areas. What’s really exciting, though, is the sheer imagination of the environments: walking along the ocean floor while the water hangs overhead, finding the remnants of ancient alien ships and artifacts, haunting voids holding nightmare memories, Moonless Knight keeps you guessing what’s coming next.
A simple but charming little Metroidvania. The one-bit graphical style is elegant and fun and surprisingly readable, the upgrades and exploration are fairly satisfying. The tone of it is a bit memey for my tastes, but the soundtrack is great and the gameplay is satisfying.
Pony Island was something of a sleeper hit and Inscryption is now beloved by many, but in between those two was The Hex. You can see many of the ideas that were foundational to Inscryption taking shape here, but many people probably overlooked this title because its style is a bit primitive and Newgrounds-ey compared to the developer’s other games. However, if you look a little deeper, you will find a fascinating experimental work, combining simplified game mechanics from several genres with a strange story that uncomfortably examines what exactly the relationship is between games, those who play them, and those who make them.
Explore a weird 60’s spy cyberpastiche with a surreal gag around every corner. Every moment is so inventive that even when a joke doesn’t completely land it still brings a smile because it’s so audacious and strange. The closest any game has gotten to being a Naked Gun or Airplane!
This game has a minimal amount of meaningful interactivity, but an incredibly evocative style and tone. While not as refined as the Edward Gorey art which clearly influenced it, the art invokes his style to good effect – a room made dark by dense scribbles is effective at concealing and revealing tiny hints of surrounding horror that wouldn’t be possible with a more realistic rendering technique. It may not be challenging and it may not be deep, but as an expression of anxiety and dread Neverending Nightmares is extremely effective.
I didn’t know what to expect going into this except for that it had spooky ghosts. I was not prepared for the surreal joys of driving from haunted ruin to haunted ruin, through the red mists and buried wreckage, listening to spooky minimalist electronica on my way to conduct ghost interviews. Very strange experience, riding the line between goofy – contrived physics puzzles and blasting ghosts with a potato gun – and profound – uncovering the trail of betrayals and monstrosities that lead to, seemingly, the earth itself rising up to destroy the old amusement park. Somehow, all these strange pieces just feel right together.