OLD FUCKIN’ VIDEO GAMES, kids. Some say the old ways are still best. Frankly, I think we’re living through gaming’s greatest generation right now. Frankly, the old shit feels like it’s getting harder and harder to play. But my heart still bleeds for that old shit, so here we are.

2018’s Best Games of 2017

Polybius

The story of Polybius’s development was all I needed to give the game a shot. The way the game looked, sounded, and felt was enough to hook me in. But playing the game in VR shook me to my core the way few games have. I don’t know if Polybius will stand as tall to me years from now as games like DOOM, Super Mario Maker, or Galaga do, but that first hit of it in VR felt like experiencing those games for the first time. It tapped into that pure, uncut, Columbian videogame-ness that I am a fucking fiend for. It felt like a videogameass video game. It was perfect. I was so happy for once. It was an odd sensation.

The story of Llamasoft’s 2017 game Polybius traces back to another game from an unspecified developer at an unspecified date named “something like” POLYBIUS. The story of POLYBIUS is a crazy, dumb wormhole to go down, but the long and short of it is this: a small group of people insist that they played an imaginary arcade game called POLYBIUS that was developed by the government to train child soldiers or some other insane shit. The game was most likely an early version, bootleg version, or flat out misremembered version of another arcade game called Tempest. Llamasoft’s Jeff Minter helped develop Tempest 2000. Jeff Minter decided to develop a game called Polybius. Jeff Minter rules.

Polybius is ostensibly a very fast, very fun, old school arcade shooter. It is colorful, fun to look at, and has excellent sound/music. There are lots of numbers on the screen that seem meaningless. There are bonuses and things of that nature. I don’t know how they are activated or why they matter. If you hit something, you lose a shield. If you lose all your shields, you lose the game. Sometimes the game says weird stuff to you. On the surface, this is Polybius. I enjoy it.

I think Jeff Minter figured out that the secret to enjoying virtual reality is the virtual part. I don’t want my VR to feel real, man. Real fucking sucks. Real is why I’m in virtual, so gimme that VIRTUAL virtual reality, motherfucker. Polybius is that reeeeeeal virtual shit. That good good.Though the game does not directly draw from any commonly shared POLYBIUS “testimonials,” it trades on arcade history by mashing together bits and pieces of arcade classics into concentrated blast of nostalgia. It feels like a faint memory of a video game that is just out of reach. “What does this music remind me of? Is that sound effect from Star Wars Arcade? Is that even legal? Wait, is that a Space Invader?” It feels so real you’d swore you’ve played it before. It’s like Road Blasters. It’s like Space Harrier. It’s like Galaga. It’s like Tempest. Polybius is somehow this loving tribute to arcade history and a riff on its own Urban Legend and yet entirely its own lighting fast fever dream thing and… it just fucking owns so hard. And then you put the VR headset on.

My limited experience with VR went exactly as expected, which is kind of a shame. There’s one game where you’re in a Guy Ritchie-ish flick and you shoot some Vinnie Jones lookin ass motherfuckers. It went as expected. Another game had me deep sea diving, where I saw a bunch of fish and ran into a shark. It went as expected. I watched someone else play DOOM VFR. It went way fucking worse than expected. Polybius seemed so familiar at first glance, but when the VR headset was on, it wasn’t like anything I ever expected. It made me feel like I was inside an arcade machine, like I was suddenly a part of one of those things I’ve spent my whole life playing. It was sex. It was sex with an arcade machine. It was everything everybody ever wanted, I assume.

As I blazed through each of the games 50 levels, a lot of what I thought was the game’s oddball nonsense started to add up. The absurdist subtext that accompanied each level name began to feel more like hints or strategies (“Let go, Luke” prompted me to maybe just not shoot indiscriminately for awhile). The game does a tremendous job of very subtlety teaching you its fairly basic concepts and then eventually asks you to betray the ideas it taught you. It’s easy to look at this game and see it as bait for the niche retro market. It’s low-poly, doused in neon, and trades on every last quarter of your arcade nostalgia. By the time I hit the final screen, it felt like every part of the game had purpose. All those invisible moments where the game was teaching me how to beat it suddenly appeared. The scores got higher, the jokes got funnier, and the colors got trippier.

There’s a bit after each level where it runs down your score, let’s you know how many shields you have left, and generally breaks up the game’s pace a little. But if you want that raw shit and you want it faster and don’t have time to dick around with a level break, all you have to do is push up that there controller stick that kinda looks like the plunger end of a syringe a little bit and THE TRIP HITS YOU FASTER. Considering this is a game that spends a lot of time throwing pills at you (that both hurt and harm), I think these Llamasoft folks know what the fuck is up.

Polybius on its own is very special. The mindfuck that is Polybius in VR feels like discovering Video Games again. BOW DOWN ALL HAIL 2018’S 2017 DOOM OF THE YEAR Polybius. The real one. Also, I don’t mean to be a narc, but I’m pretty sure I heard some very faint Super Mario sound samples sprinkled in there. I really hope Minter and Llamasoft get away with it. I hope they never stop getting away with it.

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice

Hellblade is a grim but gorgeous mood piece about depression, loss, and identity. The more traditional video game parts sprinkled throughout range from irritating to tolerable, but at the heart of the game is a cacophonous blend of audio/visual psychological terror.

We follow our heroine Senua through a constantly evolving landscape that transitions gracefully between reality and delusion. The art direction is striking throughout, mixing Norse and Celtic mythology together to create a look that might evoke Horizon: Zero Dawn or 2018’s God of War, but the game’s masterstroke is the way it blends warring visual styles together. The game’s static state has a grainy, ashen look to it, but it often gives way to extreme lighting and lens flare while also throwing FMV at you. Photo filters fight with each other and fade away on a whim, giving each cutscene/set piece its own distinct feel. Despite so much clashing visual trickery, the game always feels so bold and confident in its own skin.

As stunning as the game looks, it’s the sound design that takes the cake. Playing this game with headphones on feels like a brand new experience. Depression has often been described as a brain in a shouting match with itself. Hellblade really takes that idea and runs with it, but does so to great effect. Voices pop in and out to both help and/or hurt, depending on what the narrative calls for. Dread and paranoia lurk throughout, causing the player to keep Senua’s head on a swivel.

The polygamous marriage between art design, sound design, and narrative is so thematically in step that it makes it all the more heartbreaking that the gameplay just can’t quite jive with it all. This is a game about being comfortable with whom you are, how you see the world and forging your own path… so long as you follow the extremely linear path laid out before you. It’s a bummer, but it can’t detract from how expertly crafted the rest of the game is.

While the gameplay leaves me wanting, developer Ninja Theory’s stylistic ambition is inspiring. Their dedication to authenticity and sensitivity with regards to mental health is commendable. It might be a long time before I play another game like Hellblade. That at once totally sucks and is also pretty fucking rad.

What Remains of Edith Finch

Maybe it’s a silly subconscious tick, but every year I seem to save up all of the year’s “walking simulators” and binge through them during Oscar Season. Those types of games, your Firewatch’s, Tacoma’s, Gone Home’s and many before them have been catching heat for years from certain corners of the internet for being “glorified walking simulators.” Unfortunately, people who write and talk about games just kinda ran with it by naming the genre after that exact criticism for a while. In fact, I think people are still calling them that. That’s a really dumb thing to call a genre of games. But then again, genre tags are mostly pretty fucking useless.

I don’t think I save up all these games for Oscar season because walking sims are like movies. They are not. But they’re the closest approximation the medium of video games has to movies. I think people see a video game “trying to be a movie” by making a narrative driven, carefully paced and combat-free experience and launch labels like “artsy fartsy” and “indie darling.” I think that’s dumb as hell. But maybe that is why my brain tells me to play walking sims during Oscar Season, because deep down I’m just the same pud on the internet I’m currently bitching about.

There’s a moment in What Remains of Edith Finch that is so unabashedly video-gamey in the coolest way that it feels like it proves not only the genre’s worth, but the medium’s as well. Books are read, movies are watched, but games are played. They require your tactile input. D-pad to move, A button to shoot, B to shit, Y to fuck, X to suck. Edith Finch pulls off this one crazy trick about midway through the game that crystalizes the difference between video games and everything else so distinctly that it belongs in a museum. It blends the player’s physical interaction with the controller and its onscreen narrative so carefully and subtlety that by the time I realized what was happening I felt hypnotized. Or duped. Or maybe even violated. But it felt like a moment that was only possible because I using an Xbox One controller to basically throw non-stop Hadokens for fifteen minutes straight. If that sounds stupid or doesn’t make sense, it’s only because video games are the coolest and not because I’m bad at this. Trust me. I’m good at this.

Tekken 7/Injustice 2

Tekken 7 was the first step in my quest to become The Ultimate Fighting Game Champion* (*marginally competent at fighting games). I’ve found that fighting games speak in a language all their own, with terms and symbolism that sometimes carry across different dialects, but sometimes don’t. Tekken 7’s 3-D plane hasn’t translated to many of the other fighters I’ve played this year (as I’ve been fucking with mostly Kombat, Street Fighter, and a shitload of NEO GEO games), but discerning differences between character types in this game was huge for me. Naturally I took quite well to the wrestler fella (King, in his finest Bullet Club garb with the strap around his waist), but toying around with faster characters or more ranged characters or Akuma (more on that later) was a good way to find common ground with Tekken’s 2-D counterparts. I got to a point in Tekken 7 where I was able to stand toe-to-toe with the CPU in versus mode, which was huge for me. I promptly got owned online and never looked back, but Tekken 7 felt like good entry point into the genre.

If Tekken 7 got me in, Injustice 2 kept me hooked. Stripping away the third dimension was a huge relief to me, a dirty rotten low down piece of shit fucking n00b. On top of that, everything is just easier to do in this game. That may sound like sacrilege to fighting game pros, but it’s a revelation to a know-nothing like me. I can have Joker throw some jobber like Captain Cold into an electric chair all with two pulls of the triggers. Wanna see Scarecrow slam whoever the fuck Doctor Fate is around like those sleeping bag babes from Jason X? L+R TRIGGERS WHILE METER FULL. It owns.

On top of that, the story is the best kind of batshit, cheeseball, comic booky bullshit this side of… fuck, I don’t even know anymore. All of Marvel’s movies try to be smart and all of DC’s movies try to be not Marvel. Injustice 2’s story seems to occupy a space in comics media that doesn’t really exist outside of actual comic books anymore: epically told, silly, nonsensical team-ups with little regard for canon. That may sound exactly like what modern comic book movies are to some people, but Injustice 2 just embraces its dumbness so well. “Quick, we need to super charge Aquaman’s trident and throw it at Brainiac’s warship because he started conquering planets while Wonder Woman was being a nag and convincing Superman to kill everybody” is basically a thing that happens. It is the best kind of dumb.

Everything

Everything always looked dumb as hell, but I bought it because it was the first game ever eligible for an Oscar and that felt important at the time, so I took the plunge. Unlike the 4K Out Run reboot that SEGA won’t give me, Everything plays itself! You can just kinda sit there and watch a dust particle turn into a mollusk, then a martini, then a French horn, then a hippo, then a pyramid, then Neptune, then you can turn into ACTUAL NOTHING. And once in awhile, a British philosopher spouts some nonsense while you asexually reproduce a fleet of oilrigs or polar bears.

A full year after this game came out, there still isn’t much information on it. Scour the regular dark corners of the innernette where the chudly dorks discuss weird indie shit (Reddit, Giant Bomb, etc.) and you’ll still have trouble finding any sort of guide or interpretation as to what the fuck is going on. This is precisely what made my favorite trip into Everything’s world so appealing. I found the “Golden Gate,” one of the few online breadcrumbs scattered across Everything forum posts. Once you descend into a Golden Gate, you wind up in actual, literal Hell.

Throughout the game you’re bombarded with kitschy, quirky daily affirmations and post-it note philosophies from the world’s various objects. When you get to Hell, these objects are wracked with guilt and disdain for the life they once lived. It just feels like people should’ve talked about that a little more is all.

Katamari Damacy/We Love Katamari

In recent years, my heart has found enough room in it for games that really aren’t so fun or great in the gameplay department but have a distinct enough style to keep me hooked. Katamari Damacy’s gameplay is fine enough; it’s simple, goofy, and fun. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the best part of the game is its music. Pumping “Dan Don Fuga” through old, built-in CRT speakers was the highlight of many a weekend this year. There’s calmness to the low stakes gameplay that is always welcoming, but that soundtrack will always be A-#1 in my book. Until I can jump into that Switch remaster, you can find me nose to the screen, volume at 100, putting the moon back together with sumo wrestlers and king crabs or whatever the fuck.

Mega Man Legacy Collection 1 for Nintendo Switch

Brother, you haven’t lived until you got fucked up in bed on a Sunday morning and cheated your way through Mega Man 2 like a dumb, drunk asshole because THAT BAD BOY’S GOT A GODDAMN REWIND BUTTON, BAYBEE! The paralyzing self-indulgence of drinking alone in bed watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force matched with the mental and physical mountain climb that is defeating Dr. Wily will make you feel like a motherfucking god.

Getting Over It with Bennet Foddy

I will never beat this game, but I think the whole point is that I need to be okay with that? And I am. So. Well done, Bennet.

Remaster-piece Theater

Burnout Paradise Remastered

You’re welcome. After years of evangelizing on Burnout Paradise’s behalf, I singlehandedly got a 4K remaster made for modern consoles. I’m sorry I couldn’t get the Switch port out the door, but this Xbox One port looks pretty damn… well honestly it looks about the damn same but who gives a shit MORE BURNOUT PARADISE, MOTHERFUCKER. YES there’s a severe lack of arcade-ish street racing games around these days and YES EA’s other franchise has been chewing turds for years now but none of that has anything to do with why Burnout Paradise Remastered dropped. I did it. Me. King Burnout.

After nabbing an “Old Game of the Year” nod from yours truly in 2017, Burnout Paradise hit the body shop and was speeding down the streets of Paradise City by March. There’s no doubt that a new Burnout could and should rectify some of Paradise’s more dated shortcomings (messy UI, no waypoints, no fast travel), but the core feel of the driving, sense of speed and overall world immersion still put the game at the top of its class a full decade after release. It’s kind of mind blowing. If there is any justice in this world, EA sends Need for Speed to the bench for a couple years and gives us some sort of spiritual successor to Burnout Paradise, the game of a motherfucking generation.

Lumines Remastered

It took me 60 hours of thumb-numbing, eye twitching anger and a metric ton of dancehall j-pop/j-house techno-beat contemporary, but I unlocked all the skins. It’s a shame I got so pissed at every last one of them by the time I reached level 100, otherwise I would’ve loved to make a playlist and run through all of them for fun. But I don’t know if this game is fun anymore. I think it may have broke me. Tetris Effect is here now and it doesn’t make me want to bash my head in, so I’m okay with putting Lumines Remastered down for a while.

Old Games of the Year

Pac-Man CE DX+

Let’s not mince words on this: Pac-Man CE DX+ is a masterpiece. It has been a staple of my GaMeR LyFe since it came out in 2010. Its rapid fire, twitch based arcade frenzy lends itself quite well to quick drop-in/drop-out play sessions. You’d think that it would take succinct, sober focus to really master the game’s finer points. YOU’D BE WRONG.

At some point during the year, I went on this little streak where the more fucked up I got, the higher my high score would climb. Every week or so I would get absolutely blitzed, boot up Pac-Man CE DX+ and bask in the glow of my arcade prowess. This whole thing most likely ends with me dying of alcohol poisoning as I plant my flag at the top of the Xbox Live leaderboard. I cannot wait.

Watch Dogs 2

Whenever a game like Watch Dogs 2 or Saints Row IV or Just Cause 3 comes along it reminds me of how much fun Grand Theft Auto used to be. Every GTA that came after Vice City just felt like more GTA to me, whereas the aforementioned games felt like they were pushing the boundaries of what open world games could do. The Saints Row franchise began as a GTA knockoff but eventually went so far over the top that it more or less turned into a superhero game (that Grand Theft Auto V ended up riffing on). Just Cause 3 was far more grounded than say a Saints Row IV, but maintained the massive scale while leaning on its batshit physics to keep players entertained. Watch Dogs 2 feels like a pretty good balance between the two; you can do some crazy shit in this game (hack cars, start gang wars via smartphone, drive some really fucking sick four-wheelers), but it still feels human.

A lot of that has to do with the cast of characters. The Deadsec cats are a fun bunch of dorks to hang out with. They goof on bad movies, know how to party and do everything in style. From the clothes to the cars, every customizable skin in this game is so distinct. I would award this game “Most Style” if that were a thing. Everything from the hats to the UI to just feels so slick. This game just makes me feel cool and happy.

The game does a great job of building its heels, too. They could’ve plugged in any old Silicon Valley techbro as a villain and it would’ve been enough, but Watch Dogs 2 does such a great job of making you want to see these assholes lose hard and get punched in the fucking mouth while doing it. Despite a few character beats that cheapen the story and some major pacing issues near the endgame, Watch Dogs 2 is a vital entry in modern open-world action games and promising template for the future of the franchise.

Garou: Mark of the Wolves/Waku Waku 7

Garou is my dom. That game owns me so fucking hard. Just straps it on and rams it right in my fat, shitty ass while I beg for more. I CANNOT BEAT GATO. FUCK YOU, GATO. With all of the 2-D fighters available on the eShop, my Nintendo Switch served as a NEO GEO for a good portion of the year. Garou was the easiest one to wrap my head around. It looks phenomenal, feels tight as hell, and frustrates me endlessly. So whenever Gato or Rock get done fisting me into oblivion, I tend to turn to Waku Waku 7, another game that frustrates me endlessly but is just so damn cute.

If it weren’t already made clear by its more vibrant aesthetic and fantasy-based characters, Waku Waku 7 has a much more generous learning curve than Garou and makes my ass beatings just a little easier to take. Whenever Garou was on the edge of making me punt my Switch into the sun, Waku Waku 7 would level me out, like Galaga would for Baldwin during his 80s coke benders. Me after a Garou beatdown is “gah fuck this, fuck you, fuck me, fuck it all.” Me after a Waku beatdown is “hah, oh well. Look at the cute purple guy/thing. I’ll get him next time.” It’s such a delicate dance keeping me sane.

Donkey Kong/Out Run

Two of my video game dreams came true this year. I got Switch ports of two of my favorite arcade games ever.

Nintendo and the port wizards at Hamster put Donkey Kong in the palm of my hand. Not the hacked up NES port. Not the Gameboy game from 1994. For the first time ever, we got the OG arcade release of motherfucking Donkey Kong. The first appearance of Mario. The game Billy Mitchel always cheats at. THAT Donkey Kong. They said this day might never come, but we got there fam. Now, we celebrate.

And Out Run! I can get cranked on my couch and cruise to “Passing Breeze” ‘til the lights go out in Georgia. This game still needs an endless mode, though. That way I never have to see any of you fucking people ever again.