Sucker Punch leaves nothing on the table with Ghost of Yotei. This game represents everything we were promised the PS5 could deliver and then some. Every aspect of its artistry, mechanics, and technology is used to the fullest in perfect balance. No one part of Ghost of Yotei outshines the rest, and that's because each component bleeds into the others so naturally that they cease to feel like disparate elements. Atsu's journey is one that will stick with me, but not because of the magnificent world I explored, the memorable cast of characters I grew to love, or the dramatic swordplay. Those are all different colors used to paint the complete picture that is Ghost of Yotei. All are strong on their own, but together form something much greater.
Yes, I jumped more than once when a monster pounced on me from a hidden corner, but that is more akin to surprise than true fear. Fear is what I felt in the scenes that turned the metaphorical act of Hinako sacrificing who she was to conform to others into literal acts. That's the kind of fear that sticks with me -- not any monster that can be killed, or even a curse that can be cleansed, but the unfathomable monster that is society. The monster that we are, but pretend we aren't. Even though Silent Hill f misses the mark with things like the offering system and unnecessary sanity meter, every other component eventually comes together to make something unmistakably Silent Hill.
No matter what I'm doing in Borderlands 4, I'm always earning something that offers a new way to strengthen my character's identity. Guns each feel more distinct than ever, making the loot grind that much more enticing. Each fight is an opportunity to flex my personality thanks to the movement system allowing me to approach and react in dozens of ways, with bosses acting as the exclamation point to it all. But most importantly, Borderlands 4 struck the best tonal balance yet. Borderlands 4 feels like the idealized version of what this series was always striving to be.
Metal Gear Solid Delta: Snake Eater manages to live up to its own legacy thanks to the forward-thinking design of the original, but takes no risks beyond a more approachable control scheme. It is because Kojima pushed the limits of interactivity and stuck to timeless themes in his writing that even a copy-pasted version of it is still effective over 20 years later, though with a few embarrassing relics of the past. In that way, the legacy of the original is perfectly preserved here. But it does raise the question of whether or not we even needed it.
Drag X Drive feels like an excellent prototype more than a full package. The control scheme proves to be more than just a gimmick and makes the act of moving engaging. Combined with the twist that playing basketball in wheelchairs has on a familiar sport, the result is a very solid and enjoyable time. But with only that one mode to hang its hat on, I don’t see Drag X Drive rising above a novelty.
Mafia: The Old Country is a game at war with itself. None of the pieces it puts down fit together to form a unified picture. It lacks any standout gameplay system to build around, nor a strong character with clear motivations to give the game a distinct identity. It is a game that feels torn between multiple different directions, with the only piece left unscathed being the strong performances, an authentic historical setting, and the writing of the supporting cast. However, that can't hold up a barebones gameplay experience and narrative hook that takes way too long to take hold. This is one offer you can safely refuse.
Donkey Kong Bananza could've easily been a reskinned Mario game with Stars replaced with bananas, but Nintendo chose the riskier path. While it has the familiar structure of past 3D platformers, everything about how I engaged with Bananza felt like a deconstruction of the genre (pun intended). While it may stick a bit too close to a familiar core structure, Bananza goes deep in exploring clever and unique ways to use its destructive systems to build a confident new platformer.
It takes seeing through the entire story for me to see the full picture. Yes, Death Stranding 2 is anxious about the side effects of mass connection. It isn’t blind to all the ways it can be manipulated and used to rob people of their humanity rather than enrich it. But it doesn’t give up hope even in its darkest self-reflection. It weighs the pros and cons and still comes out with a desire to keep us all together. The danger is out there whether we’re on the grid or not. We may as well stand in the rain together, with a song and a smile.
