The Civilization: Beyond Earth demo is both good and bad. Bad, because a game of Civilization really can't be adequately explored in the 100(?)-turn limit the demo imposes. Good, because those turns do reinforce the point that, yes, this is Civilization V in space.

Which is also a little bad, in the sense that many of Beyond Earth's "new" features are really just Civ 5 features in a thin disguise. Resource management seems to be largely identical. Culture rewards are slightly enhanced but basically the same. Combat, exploration, espionage, and trade routes all seem the same too. The biggest differences between Beyond Earth and the Civilization V: Brave New World feature set are that there are no religions in space (wasn't one of my favorite features anyway), and that the barbarian-like aliens are super fucking tough. Honestly, I am a little worried about early-game viability, given that hostile alien lifeforms are so threatening to exploration and expansion.

But that might be giving them too much credit. Ultimately, I was able to play enough of Beyond Earth to confirm that I should enjoy it in the same way I've enjoyed Civ 5.

Progress: Finished the demo; founded a second city, started a spy agency, deflected some alien attacks.

For months, I wasn't just disinterested in returning to Killer Is Dead; I was afraid to. Afraid that it would confuse and aggravate me even more than before. Afraid that it would amount to a third strike against the auteur who, once upon a time, delivered some thrillingly cohesive and entertaining games. Even when I came back to it about a month ago, I had difficulty convincing myself to follow through. It was only a few days ago that I finally got into a light "groove" with the game -- but now I'm washing my hands of it entirely, after a bullshit death in Episode 9 forced me to replay an unreasonable amount of level. Twice.

Aside from the sword combat - which is mostly good - everything else about Killer Is Dead is just poorly-done. The camera is a travesty, getting stuck on almost everything in the game world, and frequently concealing enemies who are actively attacking Mondo. The shooting mechanics are abysmal, and featured just frequently enough to be irritating. Some (not all) bosses can only be defeated by exploiting indecipherable weaknesses. The currency/point system for health, blood, and upgrades is unnecessarily arcane. Many levels feature slow-moving, uneventful walking segments. Some levels are jarringly brief, and some others are bafflingly long, especially when they include inscrutable puzzles. The "gigolo" levels are just stupid, somehow dull and frustrating at the same time. Cutscenes seem to go on forever, and yet still don't manage to explain anything.

The shortcoming that finally got me to throw down my controller was the way that special and finishing moves use the "blood" meter. The blood meter is a valuable resource, allowing Mondo to heal and use other special abilities; but one critical use of blood is for a finishing move, which can either execute a weak enemy or finish off a worn-down, stronger enemy. The problem is that if blood has been depleted before or during a battle - such as, to heal - then the finishing prompt over a weakened enemy is unachievable. After a short time, the enemy will get back up and resume the fight; naturally, without enough blood to continue healing, the battle is likely to deteriorate from there. I feel like the game is taunting me for not having the prescience to save enough blood for a hypothetical finishing-move prompt.

(This is what happened both of the aforementioned times I was sent back to the beginning of the level after dying. And sure, there is an item that I could have used to revive immediately, but that just would have been a band-aid on a single encounter -- and a horseshit excuse for the game's obnoxious behavior.)

I went ahead and spoiled the plot for myself, because ... well, even if I had continued the game, I doubt I would have understood it. And, yeah: it's garbage. Like some amateur arthouse dreck, it gradually reveals a nonsensical backstory, while totally failing to develop its characters in any meaningful way. The only parts of the narrative that are actually worth paying attention to, are the standalone, monster-of-the-week episodes that don't link up with the main story at all.

At its best, during moments where the sword combat is working correctly, Killer Is Dead stands proudly next to No More Heroes/2. And occasionally, irrevently-humorous dialog will deliver some of that good old Suda feeling. But these experiences aren't typical. For the most part, Killer Is Dead is just badly made.

Better than: Flower, Sun, and Rain (at least there is some gameplay here)
Not as good as: Lollipop Chainsaw (whose "highs" weren't as high as Killer's, but which was much more tolerable on average)
Maybe not as good as: Killer7, but that's a chronologically difficult comparison to make.

Progress: Gave up during Episode 9.

I have only a passing knowledge of the Dynasty Warriors franchise, which I think actually makes me a pretty good target for this Zelda crossover. Playing Hyrule Warriors feels very different from any other Legend of Zelda game; and yet, the series' familiar characters and environments are integrated well-enough that it all... mostly, feels right.

In retrospect, the genre-bending angle isn't actually that hard of a sell. Zelda games are accustomed to pitting Link and friends against a massive army of evil -- Hyrule Warriors essentially just adds a "good" army, and removes the dungeon puzzles. Through just shy of 20 stages, the game's Legend Mode tells a story that initially tries some interesting (okay, fanservicey) twists, but eventually becomes exactly what one would expect from any other Zelda game. Familiar faces, both good and bad, chip in as the campaign hops around between levels like Hyrule Field, Death Mountain, the Water Temple, and Gerudo Valley, with Hylian soldiers and Gorons fighting Stalfos and Moblins, et al. There are even franchise-appropriate opportunities to use traditional Zelda items, like bombs to blow up a weak wall, or arrows to target a Gohma's weak point.

And in that respect, Hyrule Warriors delivers a number of legitimately-enthralling encounters: boss battles, particularly in the game's second half, present some real pattern-recognition and timing-sensitive challenges. For the most part, though, Hyrule Warriors is unsurprisingly mild. Hordes of enemies, and a smaller number of mid-bosses, get to deal with the business end of a given protagonist's weapon, as said protagonist must clear out one area, then another area, then escort a friend, then resume clearing, and so on. Especially in the first half of the campaign, the combat is mostly brainless. It's reasonably fun, sure, and timed events tend to keep it from becoming too tedious. But only occasional special events and boss battles really stand out amid the whole experience.

To be fair, there is in fact a lot of content here: the Legend Mode campaign is a respectable length, there are a bunch of other game modes with less narrative-focused objectives, the crafting/upgrade system is pretty deep, and there are a bunch of unlockables and "medals" to boot. At the end of the day, though, I wasn't quite interested enough in the core gameplay to continue on with these options.

Hyrule Warriors is a successful spin-off, and almost certainly some fun for any Zelda fan. It's not exactly what I would call a masterpiece, and independent of its Zelda association, the appeal of its gameplay formula does seem pretty narrow. But despite how ... dumb, it can seem at times, the product as a whole is satisfyingly well-made.

Also, the two-player co-op mode is an easy recommendation, combining the normal gameplay with some light tactical coordination. Runtime performance on the GamePad is ... not great. But it's worth tolerating to participate in the closest thing yet to a Legend of Zelda real-time strategy game.

Better than: Link's Crossbow Training, that time I tried Dynasty Warriors: Gundam
Not as good as: uh, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D, I guess
But, it might also be better than: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

Progress: Finished Legend Mode on Normal difficulty.

Battle Group 2 has a good trailer. Not just because it's full of explosions and dramatic music, but because it focuses on in-game content, and shows the gameplay off directly. It even teases a thrilling 24-style counter-terror story. Unfortunately, despite being rooted in the game itself, this trailer is a little misleading.

The story, for one thing, is a throwaway. There's hardly any more to it than a few seconds of caption text, never developing any characters or setting. The variety of gameplay, too, is somewhat overblown; for example, the super-cool time-slow power it shows is an expensive powerup that can only be used very sparingly through the course of the 31-level campaign.

What does make the game interesting is its upgrade system. The main ship, as well as a sidecar-buddy ship, can be upgraded to new models and enhanced with extra ammo and armor/health; and though those latter upgrades are simple and straightforward, the different ship models are able to introduce some neat mechanical twists, in the form of unique attack methods. Some ships have auto-aiming cannon fire, and some others have deployable attack aircraft.

These fun nuances, though, are dulled by the grindy game economy. The amount of oil (upgrade currency) it takes to actually afford these upgrades is way too much, such that levels have to be replayed to make enough to power-up. And since the potential oil amounts vary dramatically from level to level, this grind is really a matter of tediously replaying the same level or two over and over again.

It's short - easily less than two hours total, even with grinding for upgrades - but that feels like an appropriate running time to wring all of the fun out of the game.

Battle Group 2 is fun for what it is, and has one or two cool design ideas, but is overall shallow and unsubstantial.

Better than: Missile Command
Not as good as: Raiden Fighters
To its credit: the production polish (in graphics and sound) is surprisingly good.

Progress: Finished the campaign, 92 stars.

Barbarian has a great name, and a great concept: hyperactive tower defense. While tower defense games with real-time avatars have become somewhat common, Bardbarian takes this concept a step further and puts the towers themselves around the player. Like Defender's Quest without the paralysis schtick. Running around, dodging attacks, assembling and upgrading a small traveling army to fend off attackers. Great idea!

Unfortunately the game falls prey to some severe execution errors fairly early on. All enemy attacks are ranged, which adds some bullet-hell dodging gameplay; but hireling defenders only loosely follow the bard-barian avatar, making it unreasonably difficult to protect them. Although they can level-up and become stronger, these hirelings rarely recover any health; when they fall in battle, their weaker, base-level replacements will inevitably follow them into the grave soon after. And since upgrades are only available inbetween attempts (in rogue-lite fashion), the net effect is that, as soon as the game begins, there is a statistical wall that current upgrade levels won't be able to overcome.

Perhaps the game's biggest blunder, though, is how it balances this difficulty. Loading-screen hints outright advertise that income-increasing upgrades should come first -- but even with those, meaningfully augmenting the defending army's power takes an inordinate amount of money. Upgrading unit types only goes so far, since each type has built-in weaknesses; upgrading the maximum army size is insufficient, without also upgrading the resource income that allows hiring more units; and with all that done, if an enemy gets to the defensive structure at the end, or even to the bard himself, without more upgrades it will only take a few hits to end the game. It took me more than half an hour of grinding through easy enemy waves, just to afford enough upgrades to get one wave farther than I had from the beginning.

Also, the game's single music track gets pretty old pretty fast. I'm ... glad to be rid of it.

It's still a good idea, and I did have fun with it for a while. But making real progress in Bardbarian is too much grinding and toiling, with too little payoff.

Better than: Majesty: The Fantasy Kingdom Sim
Not as good as: Kingdom Rush, Brütal Legend
Of all my complaints about Bardbarian: the anemic soundtrack still baffles and disappoints me most.

Progress: 8/20 waves.

Papo & Yo has a messaging problem. Its allegorical story is clear from the beginning, but gets muddled in the middle, before becoming laboriously overwrought in the end. Its tale of familial strife and abuse is sympathetic, yet tedious. But the good news is, aside from all that, Papo & Yo is a surprisingly competent and creative game.

The game is organized into a handful of discrete sections, each focusing on a central piece of level design. One section has broken terrain revolving around a central platform; another partitions the level into regions of a soccer field. Each section does an impressive job of integrating puzzles directly into the level, like one where a tower has to be repositioned into a bridge, across which are more blocks to further lengthen said bridge.

And all of these game elements are thoroughly soaked in a surreal aesthetic, with a thematically-consistent, yet continually-surprising style. Buildings walk around on stilts. Water tanks sprout wings and fly away! Architecture slides and rotates around to rearrange the level like it's no big deal. The overall design is satisfying not just for its whimsy, but for how cohesively implemented it is.

The controls are ... okay. Collision with the environment feels stiff, and the camera is sometimes slightly out of whack. Animations and models are a bit underwhelming too, with the exception of the "monster," which has a surprisingly high level of detail. The music, though -- the music is pretty excellent. Not necessarily something I'd listen to outside of the game, but the folksy, ethnic sounds fit the game's pseudo-fantastical favela aesthetic perfectly.

Papo & Yo is pretty short - about three hours, for me - and could even stand to lose about half an hour from the beginning and ending. But it's otherwise a dense, thematic, well-crafted puzzle adventure that's not quite like anything else out there. (Sure, there are some distinct similarities to Majin. But it's different enough.)

Better than: A Story About My Uncle, Journey
Not as good as: Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, Majin and the Forsaken Kingdom
And there's a jetpack!: because, of course, why not.

Progress: Complete.

From the beginning, the eponymous story of A Story About My Uncle is ... a little off. The slightly-stilted English narration is part of it, but only a part: there's also the inconsistent dedication to the storyteller's fourth wall, and obscure in-game messages that - rather than teasing deeper parts of the story - are just music video links. The game's childlike sense of wonder is fun and fascinating at first, but, about an hour in, its focus on storybookish light sci-fi just feels dull and unsatisfying.

I can say pretty much the same thing for the gameplay. The game world's hyperactive platforming and beam-grappling are neat at first, if lacking in originality; but rapidly become an annoyance, as an over-reliance on grapple-swinging is hampered by momentum-killing collisions. It's never a huge point of frustration, since checkpoints are fairly frequent, but this flaw keeps the grappling mechanics from shining the way that they otherwise could.

The game seems to be pretty short, too. As far as I can determine from achievement info, I'm a little over halfway through, putting the game's total length at well under two hours.

It comes across as a well-done amateur game, but fails to find a substantial raison d'etre for itself. The grappling feature isn't that unique, and any given first-person puzzle game (Portal, et al) has better platforming and level-design. At the same time, the story isn't anything special (becoming utterly predictable in the first 20 minutes or so), and there are also plenty of examples of better storytelling in games.

A Story About My Uncle isn't bad, but it isn't as good as it should be, either.

Better than: Dear Esther
Not as good as: Gone Home (which, it really could have been)
To be fair, the ending: which I looked up on Youtube, seems pretty good.

Progress: Got a bit into the Star Haven.

Numerically, most of Shadow of Mordor is good, but unremarkable; free-flowing combat, easy-mode stealth sneaking, objective icons dotting the map, fast-travel towers, ability points -- even an underwhelming story, befitting genre expectations. But to write the game off as yet another open-world adaptation would be a severe disservice to its highlight feature, the Nemesis system: which comes to dominate, pun intended, the gameplay experience. (Even if it does take a while to warm up.)

The pacing is the only real grievance I can lodge against Shadow of Mordor, and by the campaign's halfway point - once the abiilty to brainwash orcs finally unlocks - the slow start seems totally worth it. In the first half of the game, Talion is just learning how to become a murder machine; in its second half, he becomes an agent of infiltration and conquest. Dead orcs get replaced, but dominated orcs remain in power, and can be used not only to defend Talion in the enemy-filled wilderness, but to target, chop down, and supplant high-ranking warchiefs.

Maybe the only thing more satisfying than finally taking revenge on an orc captain who's previously struck you down, is bending that orc captain to your will and watching him amass an army of like-minded minions. It is... incredible.

Well, to be a bit more critical, I do have to call out the campaign, which is well-acted and -written in moments but overall screams "cut content" (especially in the ending, which is a super-rushed sequence of anticlimactic quick-time events). And the lack of meaningful payoff for most of the game's collectible extras - like unlocking the "true power" of Talion's weapons, which uh, doesn't seem to make any difference at all - is a letdown as well. But these are par for the course, and, again, are effectively and completely overshadowed by how goddamned awesome it is to tear apart and take over Sauron's army.

And in a way, that's what makes Shadow of Mordor so awe-inspiring. Despite its flaws, and despite some lingering mediocrity, and even despite some weapons-grade bullshit regarding the game's promotion, I am still excited every time I find a new orc captain to dominate or slaughter.

I can only imagine how stupefyingly cool the next Nemesis-system game will be.

Better than: Batman: Arkham City, Assassin's Creed III
Not as good as: Grand Theft Auto V (...because of heists), Saints Row IV
And I'm still floored at how well it handles player-death: although, after upgrading Talion's super-death ultra-powers, I haven't died in quite a while.

Progress: Finished the story, 93% completion.
(EDIT October 8th, 2014) Progress: 100%

Shadow of Mordor starts out slowly. But I'm warming up to it.

Its introduction is narrative-heavy, and actually does a great job of balancing exposition with control tutorials. Or it would, if that exposition was actually interesting. Talion the Ranger's premise is utterly trite -- modest life in Middle-earth, orcs rampaging around, you know the drill. What makes the game's plot fascinating are elements of the world (Mordor) that differentiate it from the novels and films, and the backstory of the wraith character; but these aspects are regrettably absent from the game's opening. In fact, three hours in, I'm still waiting for the wraith's in-game story to catch up to what was revealed in pre-release trailers.

But the game comes into its own as soon as the pretense is dropped and the open world becomes "open." A map dotted with disparate activities. Stealth kills and sword brawls. Collectible points and upgrades. I always love collecting and accomplishing random shit in an open-world game, and Shadow of Mordor provides ample opportunities for all of that.

The "Nemesis" system is playing out a lot better than I expected. Granted, the procedural characterization of orc captains (the eponymous nemeses) is unremarkable; but the way that the orc heirarchy is framed, both when Talion defeats one and when one defeats Talion, makes the enemy horde feel more alive than is typical in a video game. And it achieves the impressive feat of making player-death rewarding, by affecting the game world in an appreciable way -- promoting the victorious captain, making him stronger and bolder.

Most of the game's remaining mechanics, though, are more lukewarm. Not bad, just, not significantly distinct from a modern-day Batman, Assassin's Creed, or Saints Row "style" of game. As in AC, Shadow of Mordor's contextual controls are pretty overwhelming at first, although I'm getting used to them. The weapon runes are ... okay -- they feel more meaningful than the throwaway equipment in Darksiders II, but are lacking in excitement so far. And I haven't unlocked enough character upgrades, yet, to change or direct the way I play the game.

It's fun, but - my cool orc anti-buddies aside - I'm still waiting for the game to "wow" me with its world or with its moment-to-moment gameplay. Right now I'm more motivated by my desire to remove to-do items from the map, than I am by any story missions.

Progress: 6%

Guacamelee isn't an exceptionally good beat-em-up, nor is it among the better Metroidvanias. As a hybrid of these genres, it does fairly well -- well enough, really. But it's impossible to play Guacamelee without fixating on some of its deficiencies.

It has the interconnected world map of a Metroid-style adventure, and ability upgrades which unlock new paths through said map. Like Shadow Complex, Guacamelee takes an irritatingly-long time to get to some of its most crucial upgrades (namely: the double jump) -- but ultimately, it does result in an admirable collection of skills for expertly navigating the game's world. At the same time though, there is a visible lack of creativity in its obstacles: almost all of them are colored blocks, that just need to be hit with an ability of the corresponding color. Maybe in raw mechanical terms this isn't actually different from Super Metroid's power bombs, super missiles, beam upgrades, screw attack, et al; but the design sense of Guacamelee's blocks is distinctly underwhelming. The interconnected map, too, is lacking in surprising shortcuts ala Metroid Prime, and actually isn't all that different from Dust's isolated sub-maps.

Guacamelee also has the dodging and attacking mechanics of a 2D action/fighting game, in which those same ability upgrades factor heavily -- in fact, one of the combat system's biggest problems is that, until a sufficient number of these abilities is unlocked, the moveset is pretty limited. Once uppercuts, horizontal dashes, and body slams enter the repertoire, punching and kicking the Jesús out of undead enemies can get pretty damned entertaining. But issues like automatically triggering moves when they aren't wanted, and enemies with too many interrupting and/or knock-backing moves, make some encounters more frustrating than they really should be. The combat is excellent when it's working, especially against some creative and challenging bosses; but frequently fails to work, especially against large waves of lesser foes.

Guacamelee offers a few other mechanics of interest, like an upgrade system that rarely feels helpful, sidequests that can't be tracked (which sidequests am I still on? no idea!), and some dimension-shifting platforming challenges that are actually super-fun. Aesthetically, too, Guacamelee is conflicted: its avant-garde art style looks great in characters and some landscapes, but often makes it too difficult to distinguish foreground and background elements. The soundtrack is pretty good, but most of its tracks have very short patterns, and end up sounding extremely repetitive. Even the game's story suffers from inconsistent quality, with a few clever moments surrounded by an otherwise unremarkable and totally unengaging narrative (and an introductory area steeped in an uncomfortable amount of pop-videogame references).

What's most disappointing about Guacamelee isn't, really, any of these issues in particular. It's that this version I played, the "Super Turbo Championship Edition," is the third release of the game. There has been so much time for Drinkbox to revisit and hone this game; and this is what's come of it? The problems that remain in Guacamelee STCE are too obvious to really excuse after this much iteration.

There is enough good in Guacamelee to enjoy, just as there's enough bad to deride. While I'm glad to have "finished" it, I have no interest in re-scouring the map for its remaining collectibles. Guacamelee is fun, but could be even more so, if more critical attention was paid to its varied and disparate shortcomings.

Better than: Castlevania: Order of Ecclesia
Not as good as: Dust: An Elysian Tail
Seriously, it's baffling: that the game doesn't have any list of active sidequests. What am I doing!?

Progress: Beat the final boss on Normal.