I adore a good werewolf, my God. I suggest that werewolves provide game designers an opportunity to be irrational. Werewolves don’t hesitate to strike with grace. They do not take blind swipes at you with the wrist instead of the hand, shambling and gathering like zombies. Rail weapons do not require recharging in their arsenal. Rather, werewolves appear out of nowhere and are suddenly quite near. They don’t respect your private area. Werewolves have extended health bars, berzerk energy, and a barrage of scary claw slashes. We adore werewolves despite the fact that they are jerks.
Evil West has a werewolf equivalent, and I believe they capture the essence of what makes this ecstatic, absurd, straight-ahead, chugging blast of a video game so wonderful. Really rather simple. Werewolves are horrifying when you first see them. They’re too much. Each one stands alone as a boss battle. Whoa! Which was it? Pardner, I want to see the last of them! But yes, pardner, you do see more of them. They have groups. They arrive with additional adversaries. They accompany bosses.
Nevertheless, by the time the game is out, you’ve eliminated them. slamming them aside. splattering their bodies and popping their skulls off. This is Evil West: it has that ridiculous power curve, that wonderful Double-A delight. You practically become a god by the time the game ends. Furthermore, gods really allow game designers to be irrational.
Now let’s move on to the plot. West of Evil. It’s the storyline. It’s the old west, yet the wilds are full with monsters, shambling horrors, vampires, and other such creatures. As a member of a team, you take these animals and expose their true identities. It becomes somewhat more complex, but not overly so. In this game, the White House of the story is the crash site of a zeppelin full of grotesque, slobbering horrors. Here, plot serves as fuel, a motivator that pushes you into even more carnage.
Inspired by the latest God of War, this third-person brawler genuinely comes to you straight from 2011 or so. You can kick monsters to gain some space, and you can punch them in combinations to seem really big on screen. And after that, you may use an electrical gadget to hit them, pull them toward you, or both, and apply a frenzied, staggered beatdown reminiscent of the Arkham games, with all the voltage making their skeletons buzz away within them while you work. They may be thrown into the air and thrown against each other and spikes like a cannonball. Once you’re well into the campaign and happily charged up, you may pound the ground and effectively vaporize them on the spot.
Not all of it is punching. Really, it could be Evil West’s tagline. Yes, the West is evil, but you can’t just hit it. For farther-off foes, you have a rifle and a six-shooter. Nothing to gather ammunition; everything is dependent on cooldowns. Additionally, electricity may be used to fool anything. The same applies to the unique weaponry, such as flame-throwers, a crossbow, and other items I won’t reveal. Simply timing it with the cool-downs; no ammunition. Watch your electrical power and wellness in the meanwhile.
Although enemies recur frequently, it doesn’t matter because they are largely magnificent. All your adversaries from 2011 are here and ready to enfold you in their arms. the men that charge you and blow up. the men that emerge from the earth after digging. You have to flank the shield men. The people that occasionally fall into earth while hovering in the skies. Each of them may be destroyed by hammering or blasting it, and they all have weak points where the glowing spots emit a chime and an arc of light, luring you in to target them for tremendous damage or a health drop. Simple, predictable adversaries who are progressively added to during the campaign (this is one of those games where mini-bosses swiftly become merged into the main enemy camp) and who attack you in novel ways in fresh arenas that are ideal for showcasing your newest technology. It’s nearly Robotron at times.
How about it? To begin with, it’s unexpectedly gorgeous, providing a thrill through a variety of Western landscapes, including mines, mountains, snowy hills, blue sky canyons, and shady, eerie swamps. Slaughter is interspersed by traversal sections or puzzles, usually requiring electricity or a little amount of moving carts. It’s a great cleanser to prepare you for the following fight, nothing too complex. Say it quietly: there is a beautiful hub. While all of this is going on, you are gathering lore fragments, money for upgrades (which are always difficult to choose between), and level-up bonuses that gradually transform you from a werewolf apprehensive to a person who seldom ever sees one.
Put another way, it’s an extremely well-made video game. It recognizes itself as the launcher-based game that features protagonist lines like “Never thought I’d be blowing up my own house!” And it provides beauty and diversity in its modest pleasures. I haven’t had a chance to test the two-player online cooperative mode, but I understand that the consoles could lag a little bit—though on the PC, I haven’t had any issues. Apart from that, Evil West is very charming, violent, and glaringly outdated. Bulletstorm is it. It is an analgesic. Werewolves are all over the place. I also had a great time.
Although the appeal is diminished by the slow tempo and simple character interactions, there are still some scary moments. Time and tragedy equal… mythology? The current cultural obsession with real crime and serial murderers is well-established, and The Devil in Me seems at ease drawing inspiration from this 1800s history. Though his legend claims him with owning the “murder castle” complete with traps and torture devices, “America’s first serial killer” and serial fraudster may never have had one, The Dark Pictures Anthology uses this story for their escape-room slasher entry.
The Devil in Me opens at the renowned “murder castle” of Sherlock Holmes, where a hilariously caricatured Holmes serves as the host and indulges in menacing wordplay that his guests, a couple of goofy newlyweds, let sail over their heads. While creeping about, I fail an early heartbeat-rhythm quicktime event and see the wife break out in laughter. This earns me a dramatic irony-dripping warning from Holmes: we wouldn’t want to tumble and break our skulls open, would we? The two lovers are doomed even if I barely escape that destiny thanks to a better-timed QTE—after all, they are the prologue heroes.
The format of the Dark Pictures Anthology episodes is well-known, and The Devil in Me stays true to it. Before you really meet the cast of people you’ll be playing with, the prologue prepares you for the scares you’ll encounter. Whether it’s a split-second “run or hide” decision or a slow-burning trust issue, the decisions you make will determine whether they survive or not.
After the prologue, The Devil in Me slows down as it introduces its cast, a documentary crew traveling to capture a contemporary version of the murder castle, erected inside a fog-filled island where cell phones are prohibited. (This arrangement is met with only the mildest of protests, since nobody realizes they’re in a horror story—a concept I still find endearing.)
However, it becomes evident that I’m able to push these individuals far less than I did in prior episodes as I get to know them better—the independent grip, the bashful audio technician, the insecure presenter, the harsh director, and the conflict-averse cameraman. I max out – or completely tank – character connections in a single scene, and I have significantly fewer dialogue choices spread across far fewer talks.
To be open and honest: Seeing characters make bad choices due to their own dreadful flaws and inclinations or because they don’t realize what genre they’re in is one of my favorite things about horror movies. When a killer walks up at someone’s front door, there’s a certain suspension of disbelief that horror feeds on, and I love it when it can make me shudder or want to watch from behind my hands.
After ranting at his team all day for not having a smoke, what happens when director Charlie gets lured into an obvious trap because there’s a box of cigarettes in the center of it? I adore that, therefore I don’t care if there wasn’t actually another option at that particular moment. However, the most of the time, my level exploration is entirely uninspired, both inside and outside of the world. Nobody seems to be making any kind of choice. Not because I have to get to the other side, but rather because I know that the key to moving forward is identifying the appropriate area of the environment to engage with, that’s why I’m searching for a box to shift about, a switch to toss, or a gap to wriggle across. Although The Devil in Me places a lot more emphasis on exploration, these passages feel forced and detract from more character-driven moments.
Still, not every exploratory episode moves at the same leisurely pace. I had to duck behind cover every time the murderer and I were about to cross paths in one section where I could only navigate from room to room utilizing the red light from a camera sensor. I felt nervous even after successful QTEs, and I was conscious of how much of my field of view I was willingly excluding every time I peered into the camera. I really liked how detailed the QTE accessibility options are in these areas. In games where there is a binary on/off choice, I typically have to choose to turn them off, which would take away all of the suspense.
Seeing and observing are themes that recur throughout The Devil in Me. There’s a constant reminder that someone is watching even in the manner the current cast is initially presented via test film. Throughout the game, the images of the actors being observed unsettlingly reappear as they scrub through it, and we zoom beyond their professional experience to their genuine weaknesses.
With traditional spyholes and contemporary technologies bridging the time gap, we regard both the historical Holmes and our villainous clone as voyeurs. The similarity seems apparent given that our cast is made up of real criminal documentarians, especially after watching some deliciously sensationalist teasers of the team’s work. Though it’s hardly subtle theming—the villain’s refuge is even referred to as “a director’s suite”—it seems to end there.
The game urges you to play detective even while people quarrel about whether it’s proper to do so. Although the crew’s conjecture about “is he mad, or does he have mother issues” sounds like something from a true crime podcast, you may piece together biographies by acquiring the appropriate artifacts if you’re interested in finding out for yourself. Traveling is horrible, unless you’re looking for achievements, right?
Everything was set up for this first season’s finale to go out on a high note, complete with a villain who could spin a mustache, an increased scope, and a pivotal question regarding our commitment to genuine crime. It’s surprisingly duller, rather than messier, despite its ambitious failures to make The Devil in Me work less effectively. It’s extremely B-movie. The Dark Pictures excels at mess: messy decisions, messy people, and the peculiar, unexpected conclusion. In the past, this added appeal to the anthology has been maintained.
Its larger, better surroundings mostly leave vast open expanses that, albeit wonderfully depicted, show squandered chances, even when it occasionally delivers on thrills. Ultimately, the most brilliant moment in The Devil in Me occurs when it abandons any higher ambitions and asks, “Hey, wouldn’t it be messed up if you were being chased by an axe murderer?” Sign me up for four more of those, please.
Last week, Blade and I went to a book group one evening. Actually, it was Blade’s idea. We had two captains present: Captain Marvel and Captain America, so we were almost covered with captains. once setting everything up to spend time with Captain Marvel, Blade was too shy to refuse the other captain’s request once they overheard. The Art of War was studied. It was chosen by Blade. We discussed the tactics and insight found in the text, and someone brought up the amusing fact that Blade’s favorite book was authored by a person going by the name “Sun”. Ironic given that Blade is a vampire, huh? Following the book club meeting, Iron Man and I went mushroom hunting. Quite amazingly, they are not the babbling of a person who has just fallen off a shelf.
Because it’s also Firaxis’ Marvel’s Midnight Suns, this is Marvel’s Midnight Suns, a game worth being enthusiastic about. You select Marvel heroes to fight Hydra and other opponents in turn-based, card-heavy combat in this tactics game. However, the game also revolves around strengthening the bonds between a group of dissimilar, acrimonious superhumans who have been compelled to dwell outside of time and space in an enigmatic abbey due to the danger of an ancient evil. It’s Fire Emblem and XCOM. In addition to being a blockbuster about the end of the world, it tells the tale of a very demanding home share.
We will revisit topics such as the book club shortly. Now let’s get to the action, the cards, the turns, and the strategy. Stretching like a flexible and reliable spine through the midsection of the game, these missions have story-based and optional elements and have you teaming up with three superheroes to take on villains. After selecting your mission from a classy pool table in the Abbey, you set off to see New York, the Midwest, and other locations that I definitely shouldn’t reveal. There’s a small theatrical element to simply taking off since this is Firaxis. You had the Skyranger in XCOM, with all of your soldiers crammed inside while you awaited the LZ. In Midnight Suns, you must sprint towards a cliff where the superhero with portal abilities, Magick, has sliced a massive hole in the sky, into which you must naturally dive. It’s beautiful stuff.
It took me some getting acclimated to battling here because I was coming from XCOM combat. You can still feel the distinct staccato beat of Firaxis’ turn-based combat as the camera pans about and you make moves. Everything is there, including the Wildean visiting-cards manners-play of applying status effects at the conclusion of a turn. However, the nature of movement is very different as you are not racing to cover ground or on a grid. I felt a little disoriented for a time since there were battles I could almost recognize but not as much to cling to.
It all became evident to me over time. You may play three cards from your deck each round. Your deck is dealt from a pool consisting of the individual decks of each of your mission heroes. Cards can be either Attacks (use Captain America’s shield to hit targets if you’ve brought him along) or Skills (use bleed to counterattacks or apply counter to your allies). They could also be heroic. Similar to mana, heroism doesn’t just happen. It takes work. It is obtained by using Attack and Skill cards, each of which has a Heroism payment that will unavoidably influence your choices. Once you have a lot of Heroism, you may use it to purchase a Heroic card. This is a tremendously strong move, similar to Captain Marvel’s photon beam technique, where she uses her Heroism to toast anybody who is in her way by turning into a radioactive hairdryer with a very tight focus. Because heroic cards require heroism, you must constantly consider the pace and available resources throughout a battle—that is, how to balance the play of inexpensive heroism-building cards against costly heroism-spending cards. However, heroism may also be used for other purposes.
It may be used for environmental assaults, such as punting a sofa across a room and eliminating a number of enemies at once, or picking up a stack of the Daily Bugle and hitting a Hydra soldier with it. Outside of the three card plays you can perform each round, environmental assaults exist. You may continue till you run out of props to strike people with if you have the heroism to pay for them. They also force you to consider your position on the battlefield, especially in relation to your adversaries, and they draw you further back into reality. Is it possible to induce a group of them to congregate around an oil barrel? Is it possible to place a few of them near a rock that you could throw?
You can move one character once every turn in addition to card plays and environmental attacks. This is quite useful in conflicts if there are additional layers, such as aerial bombardment indicated by ground markers or a grenade that will explode in two cards. In addition, you can employ battlefield items—which are essentially XCOM’s special items—or redraw two cards per round. Any of these might change the course of a conflict.
And they are only the tip of the iceberg. You have to contend with a variety of opponent types in addition to mission goals that change and environmental traps and gimmicks. Personally, I detest enemies that split into two or share a pool of HP that they redistribute when they are hurt. Some are completely healthy and die at a single blow, which greatly enhances heroism. There will be bosses that are either there because the plot demands it or who are interfering with a normal mission in order to complicate matters. Whoa, what flies!
And then there are your heroes, with their individual priorities. I adored using Captain Marvel in combat since she was all about applying brutal beatdowns, and she had a ton of cards at her disposal to target troublesome opponents—as the enemy kinds indicate, target prioritization is often the main focus of battles—and basically throw people around. However, there are characters who can somewhat mitigate the harm, such as Spider-Man and Doctor Strange, who serve as supporting cast members. The Hunter is the character you play as; in story missions, you have to lead them into battle and manage them about the abbey. They are just as customizable as the sliders and other elements that determine their appearance. I believe they are a brand-new character that was made specifically for this game, and you may choose how they behave. Any hero you send on a mission with them has an expanding deck of cards (we’ll get to that), which makes selecting only eight for a load-out the most excruciating form of strategy game torment.
The playing cards! The fact that Midnight Suns is a real card game rather than merely a UI-based card game where cards are used to manage spells and assaults surprises me every time I play. In addition to attack cards and buffs, there are cards that have an effect on other cards. For example, a card may provide heroism while also adding a few extra cards to your hand or it may offer you a strong move that destroys a random card. Even before you reach cards that let you pair heroes together for truly amazing actions, there are synergies to be discovered everywhere. It’s also always worthwhile to read the fine print. While the damage is impressive, is the card also capable of causing knockback, which essentially converts the battlefield into a pool table? Does it possess rapidity, meaning that if you use the attack to kill someone, you will just receive the card play back and not the actual card? And this is only the beginning of the complexity.
When you include in those unique mission kinds—in fact, the missions that are created through a procedural process are very engaging—Midnight Suns becomes a genuine joy to play on the battlefield. For example, I had the most amazing mission last night. Instead of taking out every enemy or gathering a doodad, my task was to just make it through four waves of foes. The surprise was that, when I killed low level foes, I got back a card play, while high level enemies awarded me fresh cards. Combining those two criteria allowed me to build up amazing kill totals: five knockouts from a single hero (likely Ghost Rider, who essentially runs people over in his special), and seven knockouts in a single turn. It seemed like I was dealing with a few tiny mini gods out there, even if it was tactical. It used regulations to sell the idea of being a superhero.
I think there’s a lot to say about this. How brilliant game designers like the Firaxis team can show that Marvel’s creators were also quite strong game designers, and how superheroes are already essentially collections of rules. However, we must go on. Although the battlefield serves as the main emphasis of Midnight Suns, there are other aspects of the game as well.
A beautiful 3D hub for video games, the abbey is a great place to go outside of combat. It has many of interesting elements, such miniature ladders on the library shelves and floating lights in the forge. The abbey is essentially a menu drawn in geometry, just like the HQ from XCOM, but it’s also much more than that.
In actuality, it might be quite overwhelming, but to put it simply, what occurs in the abbey has an impact on the heroes and abilities you possess when fighting. They battle it out on the streets of New York and beyond before returning home to the abbey, where the action shifts from day to day and occasionally even into people’s dreams as your heroes bond, create friendships, and eventually fall out.
It all comes down to creating friends at the most fundamental level. You may be able to use more special moves on the battlefield the closer you are to another hero. As you play as Hunter and figure out what to do with your free time each day, you gain friends by giving heroic compliments and hanging out with them for the evening, maybe going to the gym to play pool or seek for mushrooms. I’m not here to pass judgment.
You converse, and the responses you select let you lead your specific Hunter down either a bright or dark road, either of which, you got it, offers them alternatives for fighting. Heroes might be gifted things, or you can choose to spar with them. As the numbers rise, it’s entertaining to watch these well-known faces conversing about various topics. Marvel is especially well-suited for this because all of its heroes are so flawed and prone to arguments. For example, Midnight Suns makes a lot of stuff on how conceited Tony Stark is and how difficult it is to be a super squad in the shadow of the Avengers.)
There are more areas in the third-person, XCOM-like monastery that you may explore. There are areas where you may level them up, unlock and select the cards you win in each combat, conduct research to open up new menus, and send characters on background missions that provide you amazing items but temporarily disable your hero. Again, this is complex stuff, but in the end, it all boils down to assembling a team and allocating resources to increase your squad’s effectiveness or dexterity in combat.
However, that isn’t totally accurate. It’s not as simple as that. It is true that you can observe the benefits of each encounter in the abbey, including how your stats change, what you select and what you ignore, how alliances form and dissolve, and how your own good and evil sides balance out. Firaxis excels at this things, especially the old-fashioned ploy of giving you something amazing at the expense of something else that would have also been wonderful. Yes, strategy games do incite players to concentrate just on the practicality of each system and interaction due to their intricate bird’s nest mechanisms.
However, it goes beyond all of that. There’s more going on here than just usefulness, similar to Fire Emblem, for example. Take a look at the book club: a whole evening spent discussing Blade’s readings. Until you realize that going to Blade’s book club was worth it in and of itself, the scattered friend points you receive for that do not seem totally valuable. Likewise, spending time with Captain Marvel. The same goes for investing money to improve the appearance of your bedroom: picking a better afternoon sweater to wear, moving the artwork on the walls, and selecting the ideal couch and bedside table. The same goes for meandering about the grounds of the abbey, which offers benefits of course, but also gives you the impression that you’re part of a few fascinating riddles that will take some time to solve. (I believe there’s a whole XBLA game set in the abbey grounds that has nothing to do with turn-based combat and everything to do with exploration and storyline.)
This is an excellent tactical and strategic game—that is, one where every element contributes to something else in the stats table. However, the main reason it’s a fantastic game overall is that it loves its surface-level relationships, friendships, movie evenings, and unexpected explosions. The care and attention to detail that goes into this material elevates it above the surface. That convent! In addition to the fact that the doll’s home is a beautiful and intriguing object and that playing with dolls—even virtual ones—can be somewhat uplifting, you return there after every mission with the intention of improving as a soldier. It helps you to step outside of yourself.
Who in the library left the brie on the counter? Who is making jokes on the superhero social network? Midnight Suns makes me think of the long ago days I spent playing with my Ghostbusters toys at home while I was in elementary school. Naturally, I sent them out to kill demons and capture spirits. However, I also spent an odd amount of time in their imagined homes, putting them to bed or preparing supper in the fire station (which for me was an old bookshelf with pieces of cardboard tacked on). Meanwhile, my daughter’s dollhouse has taken over the living room for a long time due to the bizarre soap opera it creates. After being married to Summer Barbie, the two divorced, and Batman is currently employed at the post office. Skipper was a climber in the 5×5 Kallax until her leg snapped off and needed to be mended with a piece of plumber’s tape. (At this time, Cat Noir has been in the bathroom for eighteen months and counting.)
I never expected to be considering these things while playing a game that simultaneously pushes me to make the best use of my resources on the battlefield and has a spell that, when used properly, lets you shower enemy dogs down from the sky, much to their thudding disadvantage. But then, that’s Marvel, I suppose, those ill-tempered heroes whose powers come with vanity and frailties. And that’s Firaxis, whose teams, the last time I was at the studio, worked in small, collegiate-style groups in a variety of rooms that resemble the dormitories in the abbey, and who understand that a good headquarters is always more than simply a posh method to get food.
It is immediately clear from the first lessons that NGDEV’s most recent 2D shooter is designed to turn you become an elite gamer.
To be clear, Gunvein is a true bullet hell shooter in every way. It never lets up from the opening moments, delivering an intensity reminiscent of some of the hardest works in the genre. This is a game that was clearly influenced by prominent figures from Cave, such Ketsui and DoDonPachi SaiDaiOuJou; it’s one of those releases where the gunfire seldom stops between the opening scene and the boss form.
Nevertheless, Gunvein has a talent for bringing out the most in your performance. It’s also quite uplifting. It requires you to complete a tutorial covering the fundamentals of the genre before you can begin the main game proper. This tutorial covers topics like controlling targeted bullets, “cut-back re-stream dodging,” navigating between small and large bullet curtains, and the strategic theory that determines how close you can get to larger enemies. This is not the place to go over each of those techniques, but even if you’ve done this before and have a list of Cave 1CCs in front of you, the lesson serves as a great review. Additionally, Gunvein’s first few minutes will probably act as a suitable primer for those who aren’t as passionate about the genre but still want to experience playing the most tightly packed bullet hell at a competent level. This mindset reveals a lot of the genre’s smoke and mirrors and helps you get out of some really tight situations.
Otherwhere Gunvein seems to have complete trust in your potential to achieve and bristles with passionate counsel about handling difficulties. This is not to suggest that it is a toned-down shooting game—quite the opposite. But instead of sending less skilled players to a watered-down easy mode, it seems intent on turning all of us into masters.
It’s well worth taking a look at the basics before going any farther with the gaming mechanics within. Gunvein, a shooting game designed by boghog, a rising star at Mechanical Star Astra, and NGDEV, known for their modern shooters for systems like the Neo Geo, focuses on creating innovative games within the boundaries of the template set by Cave, Toaplan, Raizing, and numerous other studios that first mapped out what bullet hell could be.
Gunvein’s tone and visual style are equally influenced by this tradition; everything from the ship and bullet designs to the scene below takes a reference from those timeless works. Not that Gunvein is only a derivative, mind you. Although it may not be visually striking, it adds a modern twist to the classic bullet hell style, presenting it with a crisper, cleaner presentation than is typically seen in a medium where gritty pixel art is quite popular. Speaking of tone, the game’s energetic soundtrack establishes the mood and enhances the action, while the crisp, well-defined audio does a superb job of informing the player of crucial details as the action is happening. For example, do you need to know when your allotted maximum number of homing missiles has discovered a suitable target? You will be able to tell that with a clear sounding ping.
Regarding aesthetic appeal, the bullet patterns and other general level design components are always superb. As you play, the patterns will become more familiar, but there will always be enough variation to prevent you from becoming complacent or relying too much on memorization. This is made possible by the waves of ordnance that almost constantly fill the screen. They also perform a ton of captivating things that challenge you to be a flexible, quick-thinking pilot. The several opponent waves, set pieces, and bigger hostile groupings, on the other hand, are masterfully timed and positioned, adding a fury of play and tempo that is exhilarating to be overwhelmed by. The generally excellent boss fights, on the other hand, can border on becoming a war of attrition due to how slowly they progress.
You get five stages centered on a credit-based system, spread throughout a vertically scrolling trip that sees you darting above a future war-torn world, with Gunvein proudly honoring the genre’s arcade roots. A particularly aggressive shooting experience is offered by Gunvein, where screen domination—a fast-paced, high-risk strategy centered on rapid kills and presence throughout the play field—is the way to go. It’s an extremely satisfying thrill trip that may keep you feeling ecstatic for a while even after you put the game down.
Using the same fundamental weaponry as DoDonPachi and a plethora of other games, you receive a broad shot that dispatches smaller “popcorn” foes fast and a concentrated, potent laser that slows down your own ship’s speed while concentrating all of the force in front of it. There’s also a homing missile feature, which allows you to quickly track down your target by firing off bursts of targeted bullets at both foes and surrounding terrain.
Thus far, putting lock shot aside, that descriptor may apply to a good many other purebred bullet hell shooters. However, once more, rather than attempting to recreate the genre, excellent shooting game design frequently focuses on innovating within the limitations of the genre. And Gunvein is quite good at that.
Gunvein, who makes bombing one of the most effective strategies for scoring the most points, succeeds in creating a tight conceptual companionship between survival and scoring play. Bombs are mostly used to disrupt combination chains and eliminate possible score cash-ins in shooting games, which are primarily designed with survival in mind. Not so for Gunvein, though.
This is the basic way that the scoring operates. Rapid deaths fill a meter. A collected bomb fragment is dropped each time the meter reaches its maximum. When you gather enough bomb fragments, a bomb is produced. When a bomb is dropped, everything in its path, whether intentional or accidental, is transformed into a shower of massive gold stars that provide a massive amount of points. After then, obtaining more bomb fragments and resuming the core loop are required.
If you play with sufficient aggression, screen presence, and risk-taking, you may add enough pace to the loop to consistently score and bomb. It’s a system that makes you constantly moving, taking chances, and playing with aggression, which makes for an exhilarating and really satisfying shooting experience. However, compared to Ketsui and its kind, things are moving a little more slowly. Gunvein’s demand is strong and the number of bullets is much higher, yet after a comparatively short dedication period, it’s astonishing how doable navigating the garish swarm may be.
The game itself limits the number of participants on each online leaderboard to 10. To view all of your scores in the interim, go to the game’s leaderboard page on Steam. Though it may seem like a strange choice, the Gunvein crew has obviously chosen to honor the aspect of arcade culture that holds that the greatest have a claim to special acknowledgment. It offers an alluring opportunity to be mentioned within the game instead of outside of it.
In contrast, the three player ships offer a ton of potential variation in terms of play style and score system. Each has a unique ratio of lock-on range, speed, and firepower. More significantly, each offers a unique lock-on mechanism and a range of bomb behaviors, from a positional mine to an extremely powerful overpowering laser. This implies that there are a plethora of diverse play styles and scoring systems to investigate. There is a lesser difficulty option, but it’s by no means condescending, and the maximum difficulty level should challenge readers who are experienced with the genre.
In addition, there’s a practice mode and several’missions’ that include boss rush set-ups and short form caravan tasks. There’s even a very unique roguelike setup that does away with the careful architecture of the arcade mode, randomly introducing various elements, establishing a ship upgrading system that can be changed on the fly, and offering a plethora of customizable options. Do you want to take on Gunvein on a low difficulty level when enemies appear all over the place and you are unable to memorize the patterns? For those who aren’t as devoted to the shooters’ purity, Roguelike Arrange has you covered.
In the end, Gunvein becomes a fairly recognizable shape. You might want to explore elsewhere if you’re looking for something that truly reinvents its genre. But it delivers a genuinely excellent shooting game that is constantly thrilling, has incredible scoring depth to explore, and somehow enhances your own talent by gently changing norms to challenge players to try new techniques and strategies.
A lot of contemporary shooting games deviate from the genre pattern created by Cave. Among that large bunch, Gunvein is among the best.
Now, let’s get this out of the way immediately. True, is the response. Yes, in elegant threads, The Callisto Protocol is Dead Space.
Yes, The Callisto Protocol is set hundreds of years from now in the deepest, darkest space, much like Dead Space. Yes, The Callisto Protocol has terrifying zombies that scream and charge at you rather than shuffle and groan as they do in Dead Space. Yes, The Callisto Protocol examines humanity’s callous, mindless ambition in addition to the tragedy of an infectious sickness that resurrects the dead, much like Dead Space does. It does these tasks more effectively than Dead Space in some areas, but not always. In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Is it any wonder that the games have so much in common when you consider that the same man invented (or co-authored, in the case of Dead Space) both of them? Most likely not. Isaac Clark’s experience is still fresh in my mind from recently replaying Dead Space, so both consciously and unintentionally, I made comparisons between the two almost the entire time. I think it will be difficult for anybody who has played Dead Space to avoid drawing comparisons between the two games given how many things are similar: the inventory interface, the dismemberment system, the iconic stomp, the gondola scene, and Jacob’s Core health bar. It’s unfortunate that Callisto will always be in the intense shadow of Dead Space because what it offers in the way of solid combat, eerie settings, expertly done lighting and sound design, and strong voice acting is entirely worth it.
Dead Space is clearly a major inspiration for Callisto, but it also innovates on it, changing the environment and the gunplay to keep the player from growing bored or repetitive. While there are some confusing decisions and a noticeable lack of player agency (Jacob’s adventure is tourniquet tight and exploring off the beaten path won’t always pay off), if the goal was to create a Dead Space clone, then developer Striking Distance has succeeded admirably.
In Callisto, you take on the role of an ordinary delivery driver named Jacob Lee, who is imprisoned without charge or trial in Black Iron, a terrifying detention facility that houses the most dangerous offenders in the galaxy on the moon, for reasons that are not related to the engineer who is trapped on an abandoned mining ship. While it’s hardly the most inventive plot device ever, it serves its purpose, and once Lee gets over his traumatic introduction and discovers the jail has been infected, he starts to plan his escape.
Even though Clark was silent, I didn’t feel the same way about him as I did about Lee, and although I found his wrongful imprisonment to be fascinating, I wasn’t as interested in Lee’s narrative. It’s not that Josh Duhamel and his co-stars don’t do a great job; Lee’s dialogue and delivery were just fine. It’s just another game about a man who is locked up for a different crime that he didn’t do, and although it serves as a plot device, it’s unfortunate that the idea wasn’t a little more creative.
But the previously described action? Oh Lord, it’s quite good. Every scene seems powerful and real as the residents of Callisto are chopped apart with sickening precision. Similar to its spiritual forerunner, Callisto aims on destruction over just killing, so you’ll discover – primarily the hard way – how to cripple, maim, and dismember your enemies instead of automatically opting for the headshot. It’s interesting to note that there is a melee system as well, which means Lee must be as cautious with his dodges and ducks as he is with his shootings if he hopes to survive the animals’ propensity to charge at you.
That’s not all, though. Along with learning how to stealth kill—a useful ability considering the limited supply of ammunition that somehow finds the ideal balance between being overly generous and cruel—you’ll also learn how to take use of environmental dangers like bursting pods to increase your chances. Occasionally, you will come across intimidating security robots and have to choose between avoiding them or going straight for them. You may also use your reliable baton in place of ammunition if everything goes completely wrong and you run out of ammo (pro tip: improve it as soon as possible). Thank you very much.
Battles might feel incredibly difficult at times—even unreasonably so—but that’s good since you’ll get to see more of Lee’s delightfully graphic death animations the more deaths you cause. Furthermore, apart from one really irritating elevator trip, repeating parts seldom feels frustrating because to the great checkpoint system and the possibility to make manual saves.
About halfway through, you’ll find yourself below, trekking through tunnels, and facing dozens of a brand-new, terrible species of dwellers. However, if you want to have any hope of escaping unharmed, you’ll need to move cautiously here. Indeed, this unexpected part does, at first, significantly heighten the suspense. The terror eventually wanes, though, when you realize they have the AI of a shopping cart and that the several daubings that forebodingly advise “don’t make a sound” should instead mean “don’t run”. Even when you’re pulling off noisy stealth kills and crushing bodies for ammunition, it’s impossible to be afraid of something that may run into you and appear to be unaware of your presence.
By the way, it’s not just the adversaries who have beautiful looks. While at times it might be a bit too “helpful” in illuminating routes ahead, the lighting direction is mind-blowingly amazing and effectively highlights Callisto’s horrifyingly beautiful surroundings. This also applies to the audio design, however I must confess that after an hour or two, I realized that most of the cries and moans weren’t related to a specific goon that was hiding around a corner. The blood, the gore, the stickiness of moist random flesh that rots in corners—it’s all wonderful. No, The Callisto Protocol does not have the rich environmental storytelling that I adore from Dead Space; sure, the backgrounds are more varied, but they still feel like props rather than fully realized people like Ishimura from Dead Space. It’s unfortunate, in fact, that such intricate settings were unable to reveal more information about Black Iron’s mysteries and the lives of those who came before us.
But intellectual is not what this is. Move-this-crate-here and endless inventory management are the only riddles there are, actually. One monster in particular, Sackboy (it’s a head in a squishy sack thing), always appears to attack before you ever bloody see it. Furthermore, branching pathways are nearly often blocked off, whether by boxes, debris, or an oddly placed dead end. This means that even when you believe the game is opening up and allowing you the ability to explore, I can unequivocally state that it is not.
It’s a ridiculous omission that eliminates all motivation to take your time and appreciate this type of context—you also can’t move around when listening to audio logs. It’s your responsibility to remember who left the log, even if you did wish to listen to it. The inventory doesn’t bother to tell you which logs are new and which ones you’ve previously listened to. Midway through the game, you don’t so much expand your inventory as go from one extreme to the other, and even then, you’ll constantly be dropping batteries for the GRP, your special gravity glove, to make room for more expensive items that will allow you to upgrade your weapons.
Moreover, I thought the GRP’s take on stasis was woefully inadequate. Too frequently, I would use it to pull foes toward me until my strength ran out, causing the zombie to fall in front of me and giving me a slap in the face. I should admit that I was more concerned with improving my weaponry than my GRP, so this could be my own fault, but at the halfway point, I was hardly using my telekinesis abilities at all.
The most noticeable thing it lacks is Dead Space’s gripping narrative and oppressive atmosphere. Though it feels a bit churlish to gripe about it, I suppose some people won’t care about it. Still, if you’re forced to pick between Dead Space’s impending remake and Callisto and value plot above combat, keep that in mind.
In the end, the Callisto Protocol’s hectic action and violent combat nevertheless made a lasting impression on me since it built upon the excellent architecture of Dead Space and incorporated all of its many amazing elements. No, it’s not as terrifying as I was expecting, and it hasn’t got everything down pat. However, what if, like me, you enter The Callisto Protocol believing it to be a trite copy of Dead Space? Alright, not exactly.
Are you fond of fonts? The game Swordship is a must-play for typeface lovers. (Following Pentiment.) Swordship has typefaces. It adores typefaces. Furthermore, it’s not just the typefaces per se; it’s also how the game uses them. Once a level is completed, “LINE CLEAR” is seen on the ocean. Once you’ve finished organizing your profits, the word “SHIPPED” appears on the screen. In this game, the typefaces really bring the design to life. Because of how masterfully “GAME OVER” is put together, dying is actually enjoyable.
Swordship is still really good despite the typefaces. This is an intense avoid-’em-up game with a nautical theft touch that is truly brilliant arcade gameplay. Your Swordship is a little yellow troublemaker, a needle-thin arrowhead-shaped vessel that can open its small jaws and grasp containers that have been lost to the sea. It isn’t truly able to shoot, but it can fool foes that are close enough to each other into getting killed. The objective of the game is to gather containers and eliminate adversaries within a solitary, constrained top-down screen. The gameplay is enhanced by the player’s ability to race across an infinite wave surface. That’s the whole point of Swordship. As with the typefaces, though, it’s more about how the game uses the rules than it is about the actual game rules.
Alright, so gathering up receptacles. As you speed ahead, navigating left and right as well as up and down, a container becomes closer. A shipping lane is indicated by a bright yellow line that shows on the screen, letting you know this. Enter there and retrieve the container! Snap! There isn’t a game I’ve played this year that I feel is better than this one. total communication. You are now holding a container in your mouth. You can bank it, which entails waiting until a drop-off point appears on screen and hovering there for a little while, or you may use it as a bomb to clear the screen of foes.
Although it seems simple, that is actually very difficult. This is a result of the numerous opponents occupying the screen. shot after tracking you with their turrets. Mines that surface. walls of crackling lasers. criminals that hover and drop explosives from above. BBQs with revolving ovens. all kinds.
These adversaries are similar in that they have red markings indicating the locations they will attack, and before they strike, there is a delay that lets you enter the red mark, check that it is where you want it to be, and then exit. Therefore, for the overhead bomb droppers, approach a turret you wish to eliminate, wait for the red markings to appear, and then back off. In the meanwhile, the turrets may be tricked into aiming for other turrets, fireball lobbers, laser wall guys, or mines that can be set off to destroy turrets. Continue moving forward.
You can make a very magnificent, elegant, and mysterious dodging game by mixing up the boxes and the opponents. I never grow tired of making enemies criticize their own side. The opportunity to dump a container at the last second to get points and move out of the path again just in time to avoid being murdered never gets old to me. I can’t get enough of the perfect dive, which allows me to dodge a bomb and put out a fire by briefly submerging beneath the waters. This makes me think of the old arcade game Spy Hunter: placement is everything, and you have to keep an eye on a several things at once.
So, swordship is already excellent. However, it actually becomes a little bit bigger for me. Not only the quick zip of the animations, or the straightforward low-poly images that exploded with color. The way everything is connected is something I adore. The containers you gather can be kept for more lives or banked for points at the conclusion of each level. Alternatively, you may save them and use them to receive a reward, such as having the container lanes aligned going forward or receiving immediate drop-offs. On the other hand, points let you progress through the game by enabling permanent upgrades, various ship powers, weather, difficulty settings, and concept art. It never ceases to surprise.
This combining of elements, this set of complex decisions that puts you in control as you exchange health for points in order to mislead yourself, actually makes Swordship seem more condensed in a section of the game – advancement and unlocks – where many arcade games start to feel a little too bloated. You always make these intriguing, potentially favorable choices. Every unlock, every point, and every life have significance. This game is simply amazing.
A basic idea that fails to spark and terrible writing undermine the otherwise captivating spirit of early-aughts double-A gaming. The marketing materials for Wanted: Dead characterize the game as a “love letter to the sixth generation of consoles,” which includes the PS2, Xbox, and Gamecube. It’s the creation of veterans from that era; Takayuki Kikuchi, a former employee of Tecmo whose credentials include the original Ninja Gaiden, formed the development company Soleil. It’s ironic that intense and persistent distaste may often accompany a love affair, and I’m not a big fan of Wanted: Dead. I don’t enjoy storyline that is 70% playing about with cop movie clichés, wave-based confrontations that often butcher you just before a checkpoint, or abrupt, pseudo-Gearsy shooting. I dislike campaign design that appears to be mostly used for Easter eggs and one-off vignettes. These items don’t appeal to me at all. However, I do sort of adore them.
I suspect the reason I love them is that I belong to the target audience of Wanted: Dead, which is early middle-aged players who came of age during the golden age of the “double-A game” – in other words, games from the early days of broadband, before Naughty Dog and Ubisoft made every third-person rival learn parkour and court comparison with HBO, before Steam became ubiquitous and trade-ins became extinct, and before every game required a season pass and a loot treadmill. During this period, there were less established ideas about what a videogame should accomplish, thus mid-tier 3D action games in particular were allowed to be unpolished, raw, brutal, brazenly slammed together, and, very frequently, an entire pile of arse. The concept of “double-A” seems to have been invented by nutters who could never move on from Midway’s passing, so I’m not convinced it ever truly happened. But whether it’s a rose-colored illusion or not, it perfectly matches Wanted: Dead.
After an introductory news broadcast with Thatcher and Yeltsin—of which I can only remember the phrase “a failure of common sense”—Wanted puts you in the shoes of Hannah Stone, a cyborg in sneakers with a katana who leads the infamous “Zombie Squad” of former convicts turned enforcers in a near-future version of Hong Kong. Over the course of a week in-game, Stone and her roughneck allies will investigate an android conspiracy; nevertheless, the writing frequently prioritizes slice-of-life humor over story development, with whole sequences centered to the group’s eating of ramen.
Throughout the campaign, you’ll travel to parks, clubs, and warehouses that are made up of hallways and wide areas with far checkpoints. There, you’ll battle a monotonous group of grunts, ninjas, and mech men before finishing the campaign with an exhausting bossfight that follows a set pattern. As generic as it sounds, it’s a structure I haven’t quite seen since the PS2: in particular, the lack of a save-anywhere function trains you to be careful with the few healthpacks you carry about and highlights how much the game design relies on arbitrary pop-up reinforcements. The content in between missions, however, is more reminiscent of later action games, especially Platinum’s Astral Chain: you roam around a police station gathering case files for experience points, chit-chatting with anonymous officers (of whom half work carrying boxes), and engaging in one of the numerous, entertaining, but unnecessary minigames, which vary from rhythm-matching karaoke to arcade cabinet shmups.
I try to maintain better company than this, but I like the thought of cooling my feet with secondary characters, especially in a game as brutal as Wanted can be. Resurrected from the putrefying depths of Blockbuster Videos by a severely abused ChatGPT customer, the basic cast consists of an offensive foursome of friends from the 1980s. A comedic sexpest with go-faster hair and scars offers jokes that should make you cringe but are basically incomprehensible. A cutesy take on The Simpsons’ crazy cat woman is matched with him. Fans of bad casting may anticipate not just a permanently enraged Black chief of police, but also a silent Black squad member who goes on a mission with you to a bar named Deaf Panther. There are noticeable breaks in consistency between the main and background speech, and the prose is generally sour and inadequately localized. The voice acting is quite terrible; one of the funnier scenes in the game is a dance floor battle when a single, very worn-out-sounding VA has to play twelve bouncers at once. The icing on the cake is Stone herself, a scenery-chewing Tommy Wiseau-level character who constantly sounds like she’s just woken up.
Larger plot beats include some rather fluid—if not particularly mind-expanding—discussions about artificial sentience, during which the prose somewhat improves. In another heartwarming memory, Stone must console a little child whose mother has been killed. However, as soon as you venture back outside into the station, playground songs like “What are you searching for in the interrogation room? Torment?” I find the diversity of ethnicities in that station to be fascinating; I suppose this is a reflection of the idea of cyberpunk Hong Kong as a melting pot of cultures, but it probably has more to do with the conditions of production: some police officers speak like Ealing Comedy wannabes, while others sound like the high school kids who get smashed in the first twenty minutes of Spider-Man movies.
Generally speaking, the script’s more delicate moments have the effect of making the jokes elsewhere appear purposeful, which is a punchline I can totally get behind—but not when it’s stretched out over ten hours of intriguing but ultimately boring breach-and-clear. To start, there’s a certain flair to Wanted’s fighting. Stone uses her left hand to execute katana combos while alternating them with her right hand’s automatically targeted pistol blasts. The purpose of the pistol isn’t actually to cause damage; rather, it’s to deflect enemy strikes and weaken them with combinations that start with a gunshot and propel you into close quarters. This interaction may be fulfilling. Despite her shortcomings as a conversationalist, Stone has a nice appearance when speaking. Combining elements of Raiden and Solid Snake, she can move quickly through gunfire and retaliate with gunfire when enemies are having trouble moving, then destroy them with swipes that create beautiful gore loops in their wake.
The pistol’s demotion in the game to a supporting role is reminiscent of Bloodborne. Another feature in Echo of that game is a rally system that allows you to quickly execute a scripted ending animation on an opponent who is stunned in order to replenish part of your lost health. Finishers are unstoppable spells that shift Stone to the side of their target; they are frequently just as effective at preventing harm as they are at dealing it. The last layer of melee fighting is a focus gauge that fills up with each strike or parry and may be used to prepare a crowd of finishers with slow motion gun salvos.
The tutorials in the game do a terrible job of explaining the strategy behind this quite unique version of CQC; they essentially merely take you through button inputs before plunging you headfirst into duels with opponents who have the ability to kill you in a single combination. Specifically, it took me some time to figure out how to use the handgun. Additionally, there’s maybe not enough to unlock: With three skill trees—one for melee—Stone has access to a variety of abilities, most of which are standard fare like wider parry windows and one additional hit for your opening combination. since of this, the sword-and-pistol fighting never progresses above the first complex alchemy. The bossfights are the closest to this transcending of itself since they focus a lot on precise parrying and animation reading. The fairly enjoyable physical fighting in Wanted, however, is paired with a cover-based shooting system that is, at best, clumsy and broken. This is the game’s biggest flaw.
Aside from her handgun, Stone also carries a moderately customizable assault rifle and a number of collectible weapons, including SMGs and rocket launchers, which she manually aims from an over-the-shoulder vantage point. The game’s signature move is combining these fighting styles, but in reality, those Gears of War references are clumsily done and just serve to detract from the overall experience. Thankfully, Stone is considerably more resistant to bullets than she is to bats, hammers, and swords. The cover-locking is slick and spiteful, dumping you into the open like a neighbor’s unwanted cat when you turn the camera too abruptly. Every shooting layout in Wanted has to double as a hack-and-slash arena, where excessively “magnetic” surfaces would be an annoyance. This is why there’s no context-sensitive magic, no automatic cornering, and no switching between cover spots like there was in Gears.
Finding a good view position is not always easy, since throwing a grenade through a door will likely cause it to bounce off the wall you’re hiding behind. Your Zombie Squad friends, who scamper all around shooting constantly and yelling at you while inflicting negligible damage, are the grace notes holding this ridiculous symphony together. Sometimes they can aid you out by reviving an opponent or pinning them down, but generally they merely serve to make it difficult for you to figure out where the frontline is.
Most of the time, you can ignore the cover-shooting, but occasionally, it’s forced upon you in the form of boss encounters and chokepoints. It’s also difficult to avoid the thought that the sword-and-pistol combat would be far superior if Soleil had reallocated the development resources involved. Throughout, there is a clear lack of focus, with certain parts included just for fun. The “wrong number” meme is recreated throughout loading breaks, the narrative is presented in chic but shrug-inducing anime shorts, and there’s a ridiculous joke about censoring chainsaw executions in a game where every 1v1 ends in dismemberment. Although it creates a visually striking trailer montage, it doesn’t blend in with the rest of the film convincingly. It also worries me about the developers at the bottom of the hierarchy. As simple as it is to paint Wanted’s missteps as intriguing eccentricities, they also point to a senior creative who uses Twitter excessively and makes erratic demands on a staff that is overburdened.
Double-A games were appealing in part because, as I’ve come to understand them, they showed off their chaos. Third-person games from the sixth generation stand out to me in especially for its alternating displays of nervous and arrogant splicing. That era’s games are replete with “X+Y” elements, from Devil May Cry’s reinterpretation of weaponry to extend a combo to less popular but nevertheless adored oddities like Psi-Ops, the telekinetic blaster, or The Suffering, which is like Silent Hill meets Rune.
Once more, even at its ugliest moments, I can’t help but be fond of Wanted because it captures the lost, utterly chaotic spirit of the early 2000s. At a time when all games that cost more than a certain amount of money appear to have merged into one glossy, obscenely detailed, open-world action-RPG with service-game components, it’s unsettling to open a game that looks more like a box of broken toys at a car boot sale. Though there’s something in this wobbly vintage pastiche that begs to be understood, recognized, if not embraced, I can’t suggest the outcomes with a clear conscience.
The release of PlayStation VR2 coincides with a turning point in virtual reality gaming. John Carmack showed what was feasible in 2012 when he showed off a duct-taped prototype that gave PC players an amazing sense of presence and immersion. But over the ensuing years, the industry started to split: Oculus moved from its exclusive PC marketplace to independent gear, and high-end PC applications declined in tandem with the exorbitant price of the newest headsets. Then there was Sony, whose 2016 introduction of PSVR gave users of PS4 systems a chance to experience virtual reality. With the PS5, we now have a companion VR headset that upgrades the console’s capabilities at a more reasonable price.
But let’s be clear. With limited availability and a starting price of £529/$549/€599, the PSVR2 is not a cheap buy. It comes with two Sense controllers, an accessories box, and a headset all packed into a sizable box. The primary difference between this version and the original PSVR is the significant decrease in complexity. You don’t actually need much more than the headset’s single long USB-C connection; there’s no pass-through or breakout box to worry about.
The build quality is excellent. Although the headset’s materials are unmistakably similar to those of the original PSVR, many of the first criticisms are addressed. For example, the rubber that encircles the viewfinder significantly increases light blocking while also improving comfort. Long sessions will be more comfortable because to the headset’s noticeable reduced weight and the single USB-C cord being less cumbersome than with the original PSVR. The new controllers also have a high-end feel to them; they are substantial and comfortably heavy in the hand.
Additionally, first impressions are often positive. The headgear itself comes first in this. The PS VR2 employs a halo system, just as the original and Oculus Rift S. To tighten the band, spin the dial after releasing it using a button on the back of the headset and sliding it over your head. There is still a little button situated along the upper ridge that controls the front visor. To zoom in and out of the viewfinder, press here. Moreover, the PSVR2 has mechanical interpupillary distance, which you can adjust with a dial on top of the headset to precisely center the lenses in front of your pupils. Thank goodness, using it with glasses is also comfy.
first impressions, display quality, and compatibility with HDR After making sure the headset is securely in place, you are prompted with a set of setup instructions. Unlike the PSVR1, this new headset does not require a camera or other sensors because it does not rely on external tracking. The headset analyzes your surroundings as you look about, generating a blue polygonal mesh that represents the available area to decide the size and form of your place space. It has a mystical vibe to it, and you can adjust it after the fact by directing your controllers and pulling the edges outward. It is even possible to designate provisional areas by shifting the headgear around. It feels even more sophisticated than the guardian arrangement that comes with Oculus devices.
But once you’re inside, this headset’s new OLED display will be visible for the first time. Field of vision, pixel density, screen brightness, contrast ratio, and motion clarity are some of the important topics to cover here. The PS VR2 can see 110 degrees in its field of vision. It’s not quite as broad as the Vive Pro 2 or the Valve Index, but it’s still far wider than Oculus Quest and the original PSVR. In actuality, though, it straddles the crucial distinction between seeing everything through a porthole and being fully immersed in the action. Like with other headsets, you’ll notice the left and right borders of the displays, but vertical visibility is almost flawless. It seems more immersive and captivating right away.
The PSVR2 has four times as many pixels per eye as its predecessor, which virtually completely eliminates the screen door effect in terms of picture clarity. Small UI components are crisp and readable due to their exceptional sharpness and cleanliness. In actuality, it’s crisper than any headset I’ve experienced. Unfortunately, I’ve never had the opportunity to test the HTC Vive Pro 2, which claims an even higher pixel count, but it utilizes an LCD display instead of an OLED.
Which takes us to contrast ratio and HDR support, which may be the most crucial factor. In the past, I’ve always found that the visuals sometimes seem a little dark and grainy, especially with older headsets like PSVR1. This isn’t the case anymore—the PSVR2 has the brightest screen I’ve ever used. Bright sceneries no longer show dreary, washed-out light as you get with most other headsets; instead, light that seems more natural to what your eyes would expect in the actual world is projected.
Darker content is also advantageous since, in contrast to earlier OLED-based headsets, the PSVR2 can display complete darkness. The presentation is significantly enhanced by the use of deep black depths and brilliant highlights. It seems more like a legitimate high-end OLED TV now, and I can’t stress this enough. It’s really quite beautiful. It also keeps the high performance, low persistence qualities that you would anticipate. The motion clarity at natural frequencies of 90Hz or 120Hz is astounding; it looks similar to what can be achieved with black frame insertion, but without any discernible flicker. Unfortunately, double image effects are seen on objects in games that use async time warp to simulate head movement at 120 frames per second at 60 frames per second. Regretfully, this problem occurs with all other headsets when 60Hz material is used in a 120Hz container.
Headset haptics, audio output, eye tracking, and head tracking Thus, while the screen plays a significant role in the experience and may rival expensive PC headsets when all things are considered, PSVR2 offers more than simply stunning visuals. I want to talk about head tracking first. Head tracking is a long-solved issue for those who have used PC headsets or the Oculus Quest, but for those who have only used the PSVR1, it’s important to note that this new headset has flawless head tracking. As was typical with the original, there is no wobbling or swimming inside the headset; instead, it precisely monitors your surroundings, letting you move freely.
It can track more than just that. Additionally, the PSVR2 has gaze tracking, which allows it to track where your eyes are. This can be applied to enhance gameplay or render performance better. In the former case, the gain comes from foveated rendering, which lowers the burden by generating fewer pixels in peripheral vision. This is a fixed region with most, but not all, headsets and can affect the overall quality of the image. But with PSVR2, a scene’s pixel density changes according on where your eyes are focused. Although not the first headset with this capability, it’s a great way to increase frame-rate without sacrificing visual quality.
There are also gameplay ramifications; in certain games, you may engage with the scene directly by only shifting your eyes. You can navigate menus in Horizon: Call of the Mountain with just your eyes and no head movement. Rez Infinite is an even better example; it has a mode that lets you aim with your eyes, and it really works! It’s really insane to blast enemies down with only your gaze. The haptics are the final significant feature of the headset. While they aren’t really new and feel similar to what you would receive from a standard DualSense controller, having them in the headset is still a fairly neat addition that gives you more feedback. You’ll sense it when anything in Rez Infinite rushes by your brain, or when something rushes past your head in Horizon. Although it doesn’t alter the gameplay, this feature does increase immersion.
Regarding audio, the headset lacks integrated speakers. Alternatively, it features an external earphone port with a 3.5mm size. On the other hand, the headset comes with a set of earphones that snap into the rear of the device. These work with the 3D audio on the PS5 and have a decent sound. The illusion of positional audio will be apparent to you; it works particularly well in virtual reality. The important thing to remember is that all of these technologies work together to provide an extremely accurate, high-fidelity, and pleasant product. Considering the price, it seems like a high-end headset, as it should.
A brand-new VR console controller The experience also heavily relies on the included Sense controllers. For the majority of VR systems, hand tracking is nothing new, but if you’re coming from PSVR, it will be revolutionary. This is what truly helps differentiate this from the original and is the key to appropriate VR engagement. To be honest, the controller design is essentially an exact replica of Oculus Touch. You have identical capacitive buttons, an identical button arrangement, and an identical outer loop design. Still, given how great the Oculus controllers are, this is a really excellent thing.
The new Sense controllers operate anywhere in the room and rely on inside-out tracking from the headset. This guarantees that there won’t be any errors or occlusion problems while you move about, making the gameplay seem exact and precise. I suggest utilizing the wrist straps that come with both controllers, which come with closures and a little engraved PlayStation logo. Haptics is the primary area where the Sense controllers and Oculus Touch diverge. The haptics are much better, much like the DualSense controller that comes with the PS5. The additional haptic feedback really enhances the immersion because you use your hands a lot in the gaming environment.
Even while the hand tracking is excellent, it’s not perfect all the time. In games like Horizon, for example, I occasionally noticed that my hands would occasionally behave strangely when interacting with surfaces. I might add that I have also seen this with various inside-out methods, but all in all, I wouldn’t call it an issue.
Additional features: capture quality and theater mode This takes care of the hardware, but there are other aspects to take into account as well. For example, the theater mode is rather remarkable. Similar to PSVR1, this lets you use a resizing virtual screen within the headset to watch 2D content. But because of the striking improvement in brightness and clarity, I thought it was much more feasible this time. Text and graphics are crisp and clear, and the games are colorful.
The headset’s compatibility for 2D games with 120Hz output and HDR is more significant since it gives you access to a 120Hz HDR OLED screen that you can use for your normal entertainment. It’s a really strong feature; the only thing it lacks is VRR support.
Then there’s the capture scenario; I’m guessing most people don’t have to worry about this, but content makers should. The PS5’s HDMI connector allows you to record the very crisp 4K 60Hz social screen output in the same way you would any other game. While PSVR1 recorded footage with very grainy images and visible boundaries, PS5 seems noticeably better in this mode. The only drawback is that the output is only 60 Hz, and depending on how the game is designed, you can have screen tearing. However, this is not a feature of the headset itself.
First-round game round-up This covers the hardware and important features, but more time will be needed to evaluate the games. With the exception of Horizon: Call of the Mountain, the majority of the games we tested during the review period were already released. While the updates for highly anticipated games like Resident Evil Village and Gran Turismo 7 haven’t gone online yet, we’ll keep you updated on important releases as soon as they become available.
The greatest example of new features is perhaps Horizon: Call of the Mountain. Although the game itself is somewhat different from the flagship releases, it nevertheless emphasizes fine-grained interactions. You physically (virtually?) build weapons, use a variety of tools to scale sheer rock cliffs, fight, and solve puzzles in the vein of Tomb Raider by using the Sense controllers. It fully utilizes 3D spatial audio and haptic characteristics. Since this is effectively a 60 frames per second game with an asynchronous time-warp mapped to headgear movement, there may occasionally be some blur, similar to what happens with 60Hz content running on a 120Hz screen.
Rez Infinite returns for PSVR2 in a revised edition. This is an excellent demonstration of the new HDR features and controls made possible by the upgraded hardware. The highlights of the colors are far brighter than in any VR headset I’ve tested, and the contrast is flawless. While you may use the controllers to aim with your hands, the haptics are employed to improve the experience. It is also quite versatile because you may choose to use eye or head tracking targeting. This is also true with Thumper, which offers a considerably more immersive experience thanks to its haptics, greater resolution, brighter picture, and enhanced contrast. Thumper is still fantastic in the modern day.
Updated for PSVR2, Moss Books 1 and 2 is an excellent example of the higher pixel count in the headset. The game places you in different dioramas while you manage your character. Try Moss on the first PSVR and then go to the PSVR2, you’ll be astonished at the quality difference. Song in the Smoke Rekindled is something we’ve previously discussed with the creators, and now that I’ve used it myself, I can understand their excitement. Something that feels perfectly accurate and fluid is created by utilizing all of the PSVR2’s functions.
PlayStation VR2: The decision from Digital Foundry In conclusion, it is evident from our assessment that the PlayStation VR2 is a powerful bundle. In terms of specifications, it can rival more costly PC headsets; moreover, it is far more pleasant to wear than the PSVR1 and has a great deal of promise. Regardless of pricing comparisons with its predecessor, the issue here is that it’s incredibly pricey in a world where the Oculus Quest 2 offers an all-in-one experience at a far lower cost. Although there is a significant difference in specifications between Quest 2 and this new hardware, I wonder if the install base will increase quickly enough to justify creating high-profile titles for the new platform.
Having said that, the PSVR2 offers a few more features that could influence your choice to buy. The screen works well. It’s excellent. The PS5’s theater mode is quite amazing if you’re still playing on an older 1080p screen with either no HDR support at all or only spotty support. It’s probably not as nice as a standard 4K OLED because of the head tracking, but it’s about the same as playing games on a 1440p panel with support for 120Hz and great HDR.
Going back to the main purpose of the PSVR2, the software lineup is good at launch, however a large number of the titles are improved ports of earlier releases. Despite the fact that a number of those games are free upgrades for PSVR1 owners, what we’ve experienced thus far doesn’t offer a revolutionary gaming experience, and the absence of a Half-Life: Alyx conversion is felt strongly. Although the headset has a standard USB-C connection, it does not support PCs at all. However, it is possible that PSVR2 may eventually be reverse-engineered and made PC compatible. This would have increased the headset’s appeal to a wider audience. However, if the PSVR2 manages to establish a market niche and acquires support from PCs as well, it may eventually become a need.
The new hardware is an excellent choice for PSVR players seeking the next level of performance. This is a far better VR experience that adds to the PS5 all the advancements observed in other parts of the industry and some significant upgrades, such as an incredibly brilliant HDR OLED screen.
During my life on this earth, I have witnessed some beautiful vistas. The Tokyo skyline, the Mavora Lakes in New Zealand, an early morning reflection in my bathroom mirror… While each of these images is stunning and unforgettable on its own, I believe Horizon Call of the Mountain offers some of the best virtual landscapes I’ve ever seen in a computer game.
Horizon Call of the Mountain will be the first VR headset—or possibly VR in general—for a large number of PSVR2 early adopters, and what an experience it will be. During the collaboration between Firesprite and Guerrilla Game, there were moments when I was just in awe of how breathtaking everything was; scenes of far-off waterfalls and snow-covered mountains encased in the ruins of long-dead machines left me speechless, and scenes of verdant forests and shimmering rivers caused me to forget the world outside my headset.
I don’t think I’ve ever played a VR game with graphics as stunning as this one, perhaps Kayak VR: Mirage. It’s unfortunate that the environment and the mechanisms that support it are so unremarkable. I couldn’t help but feel a little bored in between the “wow” moments—and trust me, there are a lot of them.
You assume control of Ryas’ internal monologue in Call of the Mountain. Ryas is a character so boring that I quickly learned to shut him out until his voice was just an obtrusive hum in the background. The plot and how it ties into the main games will appeal to fans of the Horizon series, but for those like myself who were unimpressed with the interactions in the mainstream Horizon games, Call of the Mountain’s story is by far the worst aspect of the game.
One of my pet peeves when it comes to VR immersion is that during the intermissions between levels, NPCs would spew meaningless lore at me for extended periods of time while I was confined to my arms and head. Positively, I got to try out the finger-tracking feature of the Sense Controller, which allowed me to flick the V at anyone who talked to me. I’m not sure what a “Shadow Carja” is, but I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve been called one by someone who was upset or dissatisfied with me.
Call of the Mountain is far more effective in that sense because it is mostly a technical demonstration of what can be done with PSVR2. The details on far-off items are as clear and in focus as anything nearby, and I believe this is going to be one of the things that most impresses those who have only ever played the original PS VR before, thanks to the 4K HDR Display of the PSVR2. In the original low-resolution headset, the colors get muddy and blurry beyond a meter from your face; but, in this instance, the contrast is remarkable. The environment feels far more realistic and alive than anything the original PS VR could provide thanks to the image’s quality and the richness of the colors.
However, the graphics aren’t always flawless; thumbstick movement causes the world to jitter dramatically. This might be because of the level of detail present, as it’s not noticeable in less ambitious games like Jurassic World Aftermath or Star Wars: Tales from the Galaxy’s Edge. Occasionally, I would notice textures appearing out of the corner of my eye. I assume this is related to the PSVR2’s eye tracking feature, which enhances the detail of objects you’re facing directly rather than those in your peripheral vision. Nevertheless, these interruptions barely detracted from the overall experience.
Eye tracking, or “Gaze Tracking” as it’s called in-game, actually enhances immersion in the game in a number of minor ways, including menu navigation and option selection. However, I believe the most significant improvement comes from NPCs being able to look you in the eye when they speak to you—or, in this case, insult you—as it gives them a very human feel.
Call of the Mountain, as a showcase, has also been intended to accommodate the widest variety of VR experience levels, something it excels at. You may experiment with different control schemes and comfort settings, and the action builds up gradually enough that it’s difficult to be initially overwhelmed by anything other than the sights.
The sparseness of combating enormous robotic dinosaurs, which is undoubtedly the most awesome thing to do in the Horizon universe, was one oddity that I found surprising. Call of the Mountain is more about ascending a mountain and then taking in the scenery than it is about taking on titanium T-Rexes. This game, I would estimate, is around 70% climbing and 30% battling robo-dinos. This is probably going to disappoint a good number of players.
That being said, there are some very fascinating structures to scramble over, and you’re constantly given new tools to add some variation to your climbing style. Overall, the climbing is still enjoyable. However, the emphasis on climbing parts above everything else gets a little monotonous, and I found myself wishing for some fighting rather than yet another lengthy stretch of traversal propelled by the upper body.
Fortunately, the Sense Controllers’ precision makes all that repetition seem almost trivial. Those devices are indeed an improvement over the cumbersome, untraceable Move Controllers of the past, and they made ascending even the highest heights effortless. It also has some soft haptics that make you feel as though you’re grasping and pushing yourself up, but they’re a little more subdued than I had anticipated. This is particularly true of the haptics integrated into the PSVR2 headset—which, based on my experience playing the game in preview mode, I believe Guerilla and Firesprite may have somewhat reduced. A Stormbird flies directly over your head in an early area. In the preview, I recall feeling like a gigantic plane had gone by, but in the retail version, I hardly felt anything touch my scalp.
Every level is replete with diversions, such as locations where you may engage in some rock balancing or cave painting, or musical instruments or hammers to crush ceramics. While none of them are relevant to your tale, it’s still pleasant to be able to take occasional breaks to play about in virtual reality and check out how accurate the Sense controllers are. This environment has a lot of physicality, and a lot of the objects you can see can be realistically picked up, tossed, played with, and struck against one another.
The on-rails fighting in Call of the Mountain is one of the game’s most contentious talking points. Combat takes place on rails, with the only movements you can make to avoid overwhelming new players being slow strafes or fast dodges while circling your opponent. Battles against these enormous mechs may be exhilarating if you get the hang of firing your arrows and dodging left and right. At first, it feels restrictive, especially for VR veterans who value flexibility of movement. More than the large spectacle clashes with creatures like the Thunderjaw, I rather preferred the encounters when Call of the Mountain hurled three or more lesser opponents at me at simultaneously.
If you biff up one of the numerous stealth stages in the game, like I did, you may combat these machines using standard free mobility. I had to go through some tall grass in one spot that three Watchers were not looking at, but I stumbled out of the grass at the wrong time and warned them all at once. To my astonishment, the procedure did not resume but instead allowed me to assault them without any restrictions on my mobility. Although Ryas moves a little slowly overall and I was unable to execute the quick dodges required in the on-rails sequences, fighting the machines in this manner was still rather achievable, and it made me hope for a sequel in which the player is given a little more latitude.
In addition to its almost seven-hour main campaign, which offers enough side missions, secret locations, collectibles, and breathtaking scenery to warrant a second playing, Call of the Mountain features a few other modes that become available as you advance in the game. The first of them is a five-minute “safari” in which the first chapter of the game is reworked into a mild theme park ride where you watch robots battle, hunt, and fly about while staying safe in your kayak. Though the admission price is scarcely worth it, it’s still a very neat little experience, and it’s a great spot to take a curious family member who hasn’t played VR before. throughout addition, there’s a little training hub where you can go to practice your climbing and shooting techniques and compare your results to scores established by some of the people you’ll encounter throughout the game. It’s simple yet entertaining, and if you want to explore the area without feeling obligated to finish the game’s story, it’s a great spot to hang out. Sometimes literally.
Call of the Mountain on flat screens would have been little more than an unmemorable spin-off, appealing only to the diehard Horizon fans who can tell the difference between an Oseram and a Nora. However, Horizon Call of the Mountain becomes an amazing sight that everybody may enjoy with the inclusion of PSVR2. Even while the plot and mechanics aren’t perfect all the time, it won’t matter nearly as much when you get to see the breathtaking vistas this planet has to offer.
Welcome to Azuma, a fanciful take on feudal Japan where mountains of gold shimmer beneath sparkling waters, cherry blossoms dance playfully, and monsters known as Kemono—monstrous creatures fused with the very essence of nature—roam freely. Anyone who has ever played a Monster Hunter game will feel right at home.
Although discussing another game at the beginning of a review never feels quite right, in the case of Wild Hearts, it’s practically inevitable. It takes so many cues from Capcom’s venerable Monster Hunter series that it isn’t just reliant on it—it couldn’t function without it. Though there are moments when the game seems a lot like déjà vu, developer Omega Force’s deft reworking of a well-known template pushes Wild Hearts above good clones to become an amazing experience all on its own.
The fundamentals of Wild Hearts, however, will be instantly recognizable to fans of Capcom’s series—or even any of its sporadic copycats, like as Omega Force’s own Toukiden games—offering a growth cycle centered around repeatedly hunting vicious mega-fauna. In essence, defeated enemies drop components that may be utilized to construct better armor and weapons, which in turn make it simpler to defeat far more formidable opponents, and so forth. It’s a system of acquisition that’s as interesting in Wild Hearts as it is anyplace else, pulled together here more loosely by a story of ecological disturbance that stands out for its cast of unexpectedly well-drawn people than any particularly inventive plot elements.
Additionally, Wild Hearts’ structure demands careful balancing and moment-to-moment activity to prevent a quick descent into mind-numbing drudgery. Fortunately, Wild Hearts meets and exceeds these expectations. Primarily, this is attributed to its exceptional combat, which sustains an intense level of excitement throughout its extensive campaign. This is largely because of astute revision and refinement choices that are integrated throughout the majority of the game, distilling the monster hunting genre to its most intriguing core elements and then reinforcing them with some captivating new facets of its own.
For example, Monster Hunter’s naturally fussy nature has been exchanged for something sleeker, more efficient, and more responsive with its eight unique weapons in combat. These include a beginner-friendly katana that focuses on light and heavy attacks as well as more unusual weapons like a staff that can change into five different shapes and a bladed parasol that can deflect blows. Throughout Wild Hearts’ rather small toolkit, there’s a strong feeling of focus and clarity. This also holds true for its fairly narrow but incredibly unique monster lineup. From graceful creatures like eagles and wolves to drop-kicking chickens, sap-spewing jackalopes, and stretchy-limbed fire apes, each has their own set of moves that expands intriguingly as additional elemental varieties are added throughout gameplay.
All of this seems like a calculated reaction to Monster Hunter’s more maximalist methods in many respects; Wild Hearts’ various structural changes exchange hassle and friction for more fluidity and flexibility. I adore the ease with which battles and seamless co-op online play can be started by simply choosing a target on the world map; the flexibility with which you can customize the temporary bonus-granting properties of foods to suit your specific needs while in the field; the ability to transfer over your preferred skill boosts when switching between weapons in the upgrade tree; and the nostalgic video game-like simplicity of leveling up your tiny spherical companion, which aids in solo battles, by tracking down its companions in the real world.
And what a world it is, too. Tall Japanese strongholds emerge from the fog of snow-filled valleys; deserted towns collapse onto riverbanks beneath golden-hued mountains; burnt battlefields open up onto fields of vivid red flowers and crystal grottos; and bamboo thickets twist and turn into narrow rock gorges before bursting once more onto boundless expanses of shimmering silvergrass. While there are a few occasions where the battle flow is annoyingly hindered by claustrophobic, overdesigned places, overall the game is rather spectacular, especially when rampaging Kemono start smashing everything to pieces.
Most importantly, though, Omega Force has left behind a wildness that needs to be subdued. Its five distinct environmental stretches are cleverly designed so that they serve as more than just battlegrounds; instead, they are meant to be conquered and shaped to your will, which is where the Karakuri system comes into play. Every aspect of Wild Hearts’ action is influenced by karakuri, which are complicated wooden contraptions that unfold impossibly into a variety of unique gadgets for use in battle, navigation, or both. They also give the game’s otherwise conventional monster hunting rhythms a lively personality of their own.
Outside of battle, players may build Karakuri wherever and whatever they like, transforming Wild Hearts’ maze-like environments into extremely customizable, endless playgrounds, with some gradually reducing restrictions. In its simplest form, it means you may set up a respawn camp wherever it appears to be the most advantageous strategically at any given moment. You might decide to camp beside a stream that yields fish that you can eat, or by an Ancient Tree that you can tap for flasks of healing water. However, you may go farther by constructing a forge outside of Minato, where you can make armor and weapons, or even a radar tower that can locate target creatures and other objects.
But once you start to access traversal Karakuri, things get a lot more fascinating; like Monster Hunter World, the settings in Wild Hearts are disorganized, perplexing, and occasionally overpowering sprawls. Whereas Capcom’s bewildering endeavors always seemed like a design error (one that has since been fixed in both Iceborne and Rise), the mayhem here feels deliberate; a wilderness that is just waiting to be tamed with enormous fans that can launch glider-wielding players straight up cliff sides, zip wires that can be used to jump enormous distances in a matter of seconds, and more, all of which endure for other players as they enter and exit your world.
It’s a personalized system that makes landscapes come to life and gives the action a nice pre-action cadence. When exploring a new area of Azuma, reconnaissance and exploration are practically necessary. You’ll almost certainly want to head out and prime the land before you even think about taking on new Kemono. This includes building shortcuts, placing campgrounds strategically, opening up new Dragon Pits to increase the amount of Karakuri you can place, and tapping Ancient Trees to fully refill Healing Waters as needed. Everything is masterfully done, and there’s a true sense of synergy between the world, your actions inside it, and how those crucial fights are affected. For example, knowing that an Ancient Tree is just around the corner may literally save your life in a fight, and you can’t help but feel proud when you use a zip line you prepared earlier to cut off a fleeing Kemono at the pass.
Naturally, certain Karakuri serve a more clear purpose in battle. You may construct a spring to catapult yourself quickly out of danger, stack crates to launch yourself into the air and perform an aerial assault, and use a grapple to hurl yourself about Kemono like a particularly obnoxious fly. That’s only a small portion of the vast Karakuri unlock tree in Wild Hearts; what matters most is how all of this affects the fight rhythms, which have a combat flow that reminds me a little bit of Fortnite (a similarity I never would have imagined when I first started playing). Wild Hearts has a similar feel to that game, where the familiar action suddenly lurches into the realm of furious multi-fingered construction to gain the upper hand. It also has that satisfying “I made this!” feeling when, with a flurry of digits, something impossible springs into existence just in time.
It’s true that adjusting to all of this takes some time, and it might be stressful when you also have to worry about the 20-foot monster looming above you. However, it’s a challenge well worth meeting, especially with its more sophisticated Fusion Build combinations that convert simple Karakuri into massive, game-changing traps are known as Karakuri, and they are both crucial to winning and incredibly satisfying. For example, if you quickly set down six torches, you can create a firework that can ground anything in the air. You can also conjure a bulwark that will send charging enemies into a devastating tailspin. Other weapons include bombs, harpoons, and a spring-loaded mallet that, when used at the right moment, can deal enormous damage to enemies.
However, there is even more to this, which just heightens the ridiculous spectacle and delirious excitement of it all. You see, Karakuri need Thread to construct, and you can only have so much on you at once. Normally, you won’t have to worry about it because it can be readily cultivated from rocks and trees when you have some peaceful time to kill time, but in combat, it’s significantly more valuable because developing strong Fusion Karakuri is expensive.
This is where the last battle loop of Wild Hearts comes into play; much like in Monster Hunter, precise hits to particular body areas of an enemy will ultimately force them to shatter, yielding a rare farmable drop. However, in Wild Hearts, it can also reveal thread sections that glow, and here is when Omega Force enters Shadow of the Colossus territory. Sheathe your weapon, leap forward quickly, and you’ll be able to climb all over your enormous opponent. Once you align your body with a glowing point and submerge your arm, you will earn a large boost to Thread, far more over your normal limit. This prize has the power to drastically change the course of a battle.
Although there is a lot to take in, Wild Hearts takes its time revealing its quirks. As you become more comfortable with its interlocking combat systems—the building, the real-time resource management, the pattern recognition, and the good ol’ hitting things with a pointy thing—the entire experience begins to sing, developing into a joyful ballet of barely restrained chaos that is swift, slick, and exhilarating in Wild Hearts’ own special way. It goes without saying that the online cooperative mode, which is judiciously limited to three people for readability, is also a lot of fun, including enormous monsters going crazy, enormous Karakuri traps blinking into existence, hunters shooting across space, and barely controlled chaos unfolding.
I do worry about the impact of Wild Hearts’ relatively small monster pool, but other than some unavoidable tiredness brought on by its near closeness to Monster Hunter (both in terms of its fundamental architecture and release timeframe), complaints are surprisingly minimal. Even though elemental variants frequently add intriguing new twists to well-known battles, and higher-level variants necessitate far more precise tactics due to their increased aggression and altered timings, when all is said and done, elemental variants account for just 21 unique monsters, or less than half of Monster Hunter Rise’s base game. It’s hard to predict how long Wild Hearts will last in the end, especially with the promise of additional monsters to come after launch.
Lastly, performance must be mentioned. Despite being well beyond EA’s suggested specs, my review PC was beset by unsettling graphics problems including persistent stuttering and slow pop-in, irrespective of the settings. Early access gamers have reported that issues could be present on all platforms, and Omega Force has promised to address the issue, beginning next week with a patch to address PC CPU bottlenecks. Even so, it’s something to consider at this time, even if I personally thought the performance was passable if not great.
In the end, though, Omega Force’s creation in Wild Hearts is a game of exquisitely entwined systems that, although obviously recognizable, is clever and novel in ways I didn’t anticipate. I couldn’t help but question early on who all this was for, but after 50 hours, it’s obvious that everyone will have much to enjoy. With literally hundreds of hours of Capcom games under our belts, I think many people who have bounced off Monster Hunter will find Wild Hearts approachable. It also delivers a clever and extremely energizing take on a cherished concept for those like myself. Since this first installment of Wild Hearts is so damn entertaining, I genuinely hope that this isn’t the last time we see it and that Omega Force is given the chance to continue growing and improving the series for many years to come.