In many ways, I feel the same way about Football Manager 2018 as I do about football in 2018. I love the sport, but I found so much of the talk around it and the personalities involved more than a little bit tiresome.
It's a game about raising your own level and mastering one of the finest combat systems ever put on a screen. It might be standing on the shoulders of Souls, but it's got its eyes on a very different destination.
From its origin stories to its brief emergent narratives, few games let you take part in better tales than this one.
It's the Cronenbergian cyberpunk game I never knew I wanted, and it's shot right into my top ten of the year so far.
If you've never Nidhogged before, this might be the best place to start since you'll almost certainly be able to find a non-laggy game much more quickly, but it's missing some of the original's elegance, and not just in the visual department.
It may be slight, but it's delightful.
Caveblazers is superb and I'm looking forward to discovering all of its secrets, and to the local multiplayer add-on that's apparently coming soon. I can see myself playing for years to come.
There's not quite enough here to win me over completely, but there's more than enough to make the numerous trips I've made worthwhile, and part of the charm is in never knowing if there's anything left to discover.
Perception falls between two posts. It's premise is strong and the echolocation works well, but there simply isn't enough to do in that old house, other than knock on the walls and listen to tales of times gone by. It's a game that I wanted to like so much more than I do, partly because it's so visually appealing and partly because Cassie is such a likeable character. She deserves a better story for herself rather than to be an observer of other peoples' lives.
What elevates it from a fascinating and gorgeous experiment in presentation to an immediate contender for my game of the year is the way that the broader narrative informs the stories it contains, just as the house is home to its many rooms. Without casting judgement or becoming didactic, Edith Finch explores both the good and the harm that stories can do, and how folktale, imagination and superstition can lift us up and dash us down.
Shock tactics so persistently silly that they become the equivalent of a flaming bag of poo on a doorstep. I will always defend the right of horror fiction to be horrible, but never excuse it for being so dull in its depravity.
It's precisely the kind of horror game I love – grotesque but not gross, and interested in thoughtful pacing and escalation rather than jumpscares and shocks. Also, linear though it is, there are some collectibles I'd like to hunt for and the whole game is short enough that I'll happily play it again, or watch someone else playing.
At the beginning of the game, I'd hoped to solve a mystery and have a few laughs, but now I miss the company of this little crew. It's a smart game though and a thoughtful one, even if it sometimes hides those qualities behind its clown makeup and a beaglepuss.
It's rare to see such ambitious storytelling and open world roleplaying tied to such a stylish combat system, not to mention the (optional) Souls-like multiplayer elements, shooter tangents, mini-games that punctuate rather than interrupting, and that big ol' world to explore. You don't need to have played any of Yoko Taro's previous games to appreciate Automata, even though it has links to both Drakengard and (of course) the original Nier, but it'll probably make you keen to seek them out. Me? I'm hoping Platinum get a chance to work with these worlds and words again.
Unexplored is almost certainly going to be one of my favourite games of the year.