The following "Best Of" list is part of a series among members of the Gameological community. For my piece, I chose to write about games I played for the first time in 2023, rather than focusing on games that were released in 2023. I chose to discuss ten categories out of the available twenty. Keep your eyes peeled for other Gameological Awards posts!
Introduction
When you think about all the “things” that happen in any given year, chances are you’re thinking about the ebbs and flows that come with this unpredictable thing called Life. We have good years, bad years, and downright weird years, but usually each year carries with it a little of each. For me, 2023 was the pinnacle of that qualitative mishmash. I spent most of the year in an unbelievably dark place. In January, things got off to a bad start when I suffered the most crushing and devastating loss I’ve ever experienced. Things continued to trend downhill as I had to push through in a toxic job with an abusive and psychologically manipulative manager. I felt my health fail and my relationships begin to deteriorate. It was all I could do to hang on to the joy in my life. I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling wondering when things would ever get better. And, in August, they did. I received a great job offer from a fantastic company. Shortly thereafter I finally finished my three and a half hour long Super Mario Manifesto. And, finally, in October I got married. Things had finally turned a corner, and slowly but surely, my life started to feel like it was reassembling itself.
“Alex,” you may be thinking, “this is a video game listicle. Why are you telling us this?” Well, it’s important to set the stage. My playstyle this year was fundamentally different than in prior years. Whereas I would typically cast a wide net in order to play as many unique games as possible, in 2023 I found myself playing the same games for much longer periods of time. Whether I was repeating titles or just sinking dozens of hours into the same series, this year’s final count was interesting. I played close to half as many games as I did last year, but played for nearly 100 hours more overall. Wild! Anyway, without further ado, the nominees this year are: Final Fantasy, Super Mario 64, Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope, Metroid Prime Remastered, Metroid Prime Remastered, Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse, Celeste, Paper Mario, Final Fantasy XIII, Halo 5: Guardians, The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, Final Fantasy XVI, Banjo-Kazooie, Sonic Spinball, Borderlands, Starfield, Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright, and Super Mario World.
The "Hindsight is 2023" Award
This award goes to the game that, in time, I've changed opinions on, for better or worse.
Middle school sucks. For everyone. You struggle with your maturity, your sexuality, your identity and, worst of all, you usually do it alone because of that horrible voice inside of your head telling you that you’re the only one suffering. Eventually you take solace in art and often times that art helps you make it through the day. But then, years go by, and you revisit that movie or book and, uh, it’s not as great as you remember. The dialogue makes you cringe, the themes are heavy-handed, and boy it’s a lot more racist than you first realized, huh?
This was my fear with Metroid Prime Remastered. Yeah, I played it and replayed it a lot as a teenager, but once I became an adult who could afford to buy new games pretty regularly, I stopped my semi-annual visits to Tallon IV. And, as I broadened my horizons, I began to really worry. Maybe all that backtracking is a problem after all. Maybe all those bosses are bullet sponges and the combat isn’t actually that dynamic. Maybe the late-game fetch quest drags if you don’t have the locations of the artifacts memorized. I was actually scared that playing this remaster would ruin the game I’d held on a pedestal for so many years.
Well, guess what idiot? It doesn’t! The game fucking whips ass six ways to Sunday! It’s perfect and has no flaws and I was 100% correct as a teenager to say that it’s the best game every made! Eat shit! I’m right!
The "Best Backlog" Award
This award goes to the game that had been sitting in my backlog for ever and certainly lives up to the hype.
There is this weird guilt you can sometimes get when you do something again. With so many different experiences out there, and so limited time, are you really going to pass up a new opportunity in order to repeat an old one? Why vacation in the same city when you can go see a whole new country? Why eat at that same restaurant when there’s another whole neighborhood with eateries you’ve never stepped into? Why replay that game for the hundredth time when your interactive to-do list is growing by the hour?
I told myself I wanted to play through Metroid Prime again, but I just couldn’t rationalize a replay when there were new Final Fantasies and Souls (both Dark and Demon) to play. As a result, Metroid Prime occupied a weird place in my backlog…ever present in the queue, but never moving forward. So when Metroid Prime Remastered was released in February, I figured it was the perfect time to kill two birds with one stone. I got to try something new while also scratching something off the Backlog list.
Of all the games in my backlog that I’d finally gotten to, Metroid Prime Remastered was the most rewarding. I managed to have new experiences with a game that I thought I’d known everything about, I was impressed by things that I had written off as “potentially stale,” and I was so enamored with the experiences that I replayed the game immediately after beating it. Sometimes it pays off to wait a bit before finally getting around to something!
The "Best Replay" Award
This award goes to the game that I replayed and for which I’ve gained a new understanding or appreciation.
On February 23rd, I finished a playthrough of Metroid Prime Remastered and had a wonderful experience playing an updated version of my favorite game of all time. That was, however, technically the first time I played that game. It wasn’t a replay, so it wasn’t eligible for this category. However, two days later, I played Metroid Prime Remastered again, and it is therefore entitled to consideration for this award. And it won! Wow!
Whereas my first run was, essentially, an Any% playthrough on the standard difficulty, I went for 100% on my replay AND I did it on the Hard difficulty. For people unfamiliar, a 100% run requires me to grab every single power-up in the game while also completing my logbook, a collection of all Creature Data, Pirate Logs, and Chozo Lore scattered across the planet. Most of these prizes can be collected at your leisure, but a few can be missed…be sure to scan that boss monster before you kill it!
The increased challenge from Normal to Hard mode wasn’t a particularly big factor, as my Total Death Count increased from “0” to “1” (Thanks a lot, Ridley!)…the real challenge for me was actually achieving that 100% crown without the use of an online guide. I don’t criticize anyone for looking up hints or facts on the internet; I do it quite often. However, this was a self-imposed challenge done in order to see just how well I really knew the inner machinations of Metroid Prime. It required an extra three hours of playtime, but I did complete my itinerary and I did it without help.
Sometimes a replay can be satisfying on its own…a chance to revisit that world you fell in love with years ago. But when you know a game inside and out, some of the most exciting experiences can be had when giving yourself a brand new challenge to tackle!
The "Waiting for Game-dot" Award
This award goes to the game that I didn't play this year, nor last year, nor the year before that. Maybe next year.
Sometimes you find yourself putting off a game for months on end. Years even. And a lot of the time, that’s because you just have too many things on your plate. Yes, I would have loved to have played that shiny new game the day it came out, but I was planning a wedding and starting a new job at the same time!
Other times, though, it’s not your fault! Sometimes Nintendo just sits on Metroid Prime Remastered for literal years and you are physically unable to play it even if you want to. Thankfully, my patience was rewarded this spring and I was finally able to play the game that had eluded me since the rumors first surfaced nearly six years ago.
The "Game That Made Me Think" Award
This award goes to the game that has educated or informed me in some way.
I’m a big science fiction fan, always have been. From the moment I first laid eyes on Star Wars (shut up), the idea of spaceships and alien planets have fascinated me. Right around college, the horror genre began to enamor me as well. I was very picky about my scares early on, but I began to embrace everything from slashers to the supernatural. But the perfect genre is the merger of those two. Sci-fi horror…now that’s where it’s at! When I first played Metroid Prime as a kid, it certain ticked that collective box. Creepy corridors! Spooky aliens! Things that go bump in the night!
But as the years went on, the horror elements didn’t stick with me as much as the rest of the game did. I remembered Metroid Prime less for its scares and more for the excitement that came with exploring a new planet and solving environmental puzzles. This wasn’t really a horror game, was it?
On my replay of Metroid Prime Remastered, when I went for 100%, I took the time to read through all of the lore I was collecting. With better media literacy than when I was, ya know, twelve years old, I can confirm that, holy shit, this game is teeeeeeerrifying! This is a different type of horror; cosmic horror at its most dreadful. Through each snippet of lore we read, our understanding of the Chozo and their fruitless attempts to grasp what knowledge they’ve found in the stars and prevent their race from sliding into extinction. We read about a species coming to terms with the fact that their time on this planet is coming to an end, and the cause is not only beyond their comprehension, but not even limited to their planet. It gives weight to everything we experience as we explore further into the depths of Tallon IV. We see the remnants of a society long gone and, perhaps even more frighteningly, we see another race repeating those mistakes. The cycle of despair will continue.
When I was a kid, the scares were surface level. “Ah! A monster is chasing me!” But as a person in his thirties, the real fear comes from the knowledge unearthed along the way. There is something out there, beyond our sight, and it can wipe us all out at any time. This mysterious force is not malevolent or targeted, it’s just a random bit of nature that we are ignorant to find and powerless to stop.
Sleep tight!
The "Unexpected Joy" Award
This award goes to the game that defied expectations and was more fun than anticipated.
There are a whole lotta remasters that come out these days. Some of which are welcomed, like those that update from a 4:3 aspect ratio to one that’s 16:9, while others, like those that make the jump from PS4 to PS5 with no real changes, seem like cash grabs. As a result, any announcement of a remastered game is often met with skepticism over just how good this new coat of paint is going to look.
So when Metroid Prime Remastered was announced for the Nintendo Switch, my gut reaction was to be less excited for the visuals and to, instead, be happy that I’d be able to play my favorite game on newer hardware. I first watched the trailer on my phone and, though I could tell the graphics were updated, I was a little underwhelmed with how they looked all things considered.
Until I played the game.
My word, this thing is beautiful. Every corner of Metroid Prime is etched into my very brain, so this was not a new experience per se. I didn’t feel like I was looking at the state-of-the-art video game. Instead, I was re-entering a world that only existed in my brain. When I first played Prime, it was miles ahead of anything I’d touched at the time, so my mid-00s mind said “This is photorealistic!” As the years went on, however, and the rest of the industry caught up with, and eventually surpassed, Prime’s visuals, the discourse shifted to “holds up pretty well” and “good for its time.”
Metroid Prime Remastered’s updated graphics took me back to when I was a kid, experiencing Tallon IV for the first time, and thinking “This is a real world.” This is the Metroid Prime of my memory, a place that looks so authentic and tangible that I want to reach inside my screen and run my hands through the individual grains of sand or across the alien foliage. The textures, the movement, the little drops of water that splash on Samus’s visor…it’s all so perfect! With this release, Nintendo has raised the bar on what a proper remaster can really be.
The "Best Encounter" Award
This award goes to the best thing you came across in a game, be it a boss battle or buried treasure.
One of my lingering memories of Metroid Prime was blasting away bosses with big health bars. Most of these enemies had a larger strategy besides “shoot them,” but I have some pretty distinct memories of mashing the A button out of existence on my GameCube controller. In the years since, having played games with a heavier focus on combat, I started to worry if Metroid Prime’s approach to bosses was…a little too grindy for modern sensibilities. The pinnacle of this bullet-sponge boss gallery was the Omega Pirate, a juiced-up captain of the Space Pirate guard.
Perhaps it was my increased willingness to use missiles and beam combos (what’s the point of being fully stocked on weapons if you aren’t gonna use ‘em?) or maybe it’s because this game makes zero wrong decisions, but at any rate, Metroid Prime Remastered’s Omega Pirate is a kick-ass battle from start to finish. I’m often exhausted by bosses who summon minions halfway through the fight (looking at you, Gravelord Nito), but the Omega Pirate manages to deftly shift from one phase to another without ever breaking the pace.
Are we shooting his Phazon-filled pustules while he attacks? Are we using our X-ray visor to locate his invisible whereabouts? Or are we fighting off minions while their fearless leader licks his wounds in the corner? It doesn’t matter! This fast-paced fight kept me on the edge of my seat for its entire, surprisingly breezy duration...a far cry from the repetitive slugfest I feared it to be.
The "Best Music" Award
This award goes to the game with the best music. Kind of self-explanatory.
I grew up in one of the snowiest places in the United States. Upstate New York is subject to the absolutely relentless precipitation of the Great Lakes and, though I don’t miss shoveling the stuff, I admit there is a picturesque splendor to it. One day, when I was in middle school, I got off the bus right as the flurries started to fall. It was the first snow of the year and it was beautiful. Right at that minute, I happened to be listening to my favorite song off of the Metroid Prime soundtrack: Phendrana Drifts. The bus drove off, but I just stood in the driveway taking it all in. An impeccable moment in time.
Phendrana Drifts is the perfect song for a frozen tundra…peaceful and enticing. While this track’s sensibilities are quite different from the rest of those found in the game, it does not hold exclusive rights to the word “perfect” as a descriptor. From the game’s wondrous introductions to eerie ruins and funkalicious overworlds, the Metroid Prime Remastered soundtrack is bursting with songs that are wholly unique, but remarkably cohesive.
And remember…these songs are twenty years old! They should sound primitive and stale! But they don’t. They are just as dynamic and engaging as they were when the game first debuted. The Metroid Prime soundtrack is the story planet Tallon IV itself. These songs are the heartbeat of a living, breathing world.
The "Wildcard" Award
This award goes to a game that deserves a shout out, even though it may not be the best at anything.
Games are big. Games are complex. There’s just so much to say about them that it’s hard to come up with clean takeaways. Our lasting impressions could be as simple as a line of text or as indescribable as a new emotion. Metroid Prime Remastered is one of those complex games. There is just…so much to discuss that delivering concise commentary is challenging. In an attempt to nail down that mysterious little "je ne sais quoi," I’ve enlisted some help. ChatGPT, what do you think about Metroid Prime Remastered?
The most significant aspect to convey about Metroid Prime is its enduring impact and the successful transition it made with the remastered version. The game holds a timeless quality, captivating players with its atmospheric storytelling, engaging gameplay, and a soundtrack that continues to resonate after two decades. Despite initial fears of revisiting the game as an adult, the remastered version exceeded expectations, proving that Metroid Prime's charm and depth stand the test of time. It's a testament to the game's ability to provide a nostalgic yet fresh experience, offering both familiarity and surprises for new and returning players alike.That was weird and bad! AI shouldn’t be used for writing things!
The Game of the Year
The big boy.
Let’s be clear about one thing: I am not a writer. I do write, often poorly, about things that I like because my opinions are like sneezes. I just need to get them out. Does that make my blog posts boogers? Maybe! They have a lot of the same letters.
Despite the extremely low stakes surrounding my writing, I do try to keep things interesting. I try to make sure that I don’t just regurgitate the same ideas over and over. I try to be surprising, but I also refuse to lie. As ham-fisted as my metaphors may be, as long as my run-on sentences are, as liberal as I am with commas, my writing is always honest.
So, when it comes to the Best Game I Played This Year, well, there’s only one option. After all, if Metroid Prime is the best game ever made, and since its remaster came out this year, Metroid Prime Remastered is the only choice for this most prestigious of awards. It is an unsurprising pick, maybe even a clichéd pick, but it is an unabashedly Alex pick. Metroid Prime has affected my life more than any other piece of art I’ve engaged with and I am proud to award it my Game of the Year.
Alright, for real this time…
The "Unexpected Joy" Award
This award goes to the game that defied expectations and was more fun than anticipated.
When I say “I’m going to play every game in a series,” I am always serious. It’s a thing I do and I love to do it. But I would be lying if I said that I have enjoyed every game in every series. Sometimes a franchise has entries that don’t quite measure up to the others. I’m always glad I played the stinkers, but they can be a slog.
When I endeavored to play the Final Fantasy catalog in its entirety, I was a bit weary of the early entries. After all, NES games have a reputation for being punishingly difficult and not entirely fair to the player. How much 8-bit bullshit would I have to wade through before I found any enjoyment?
It only took an hour or so for me to realize that the original Final Fantasy was not a typical NES game. This debut title was exciting to explore and effortless to play. I never felt frustrated by “Gotcha!” mechanics or surprise nonsense hiding between the pixels. This was a fully-formed, well-thought-out adventure that was as complete as it was ambitious.
Very few games can achieve today what this one did over thirty years ago...an epic adventure that hooks the player with that perfect balance of challenge and excitement. And for being the first ever game in the Final Fantasy series? It is nothing short of a masterpiece.
The "Just Didn’t Click with Me" Award
This award goes to the game that everyone loves. Everyone except me.
There is a common complaint you may run into online when discussing video games. This complaint spans genres and decades, a gripe untethered by the restraints of time and space. The absolute worst thing a game can be is “too linear.” This is an interactive medium, after all! Why not allow the player the freedom to experience the story, the characters, and the world in their own way? Why shackle this medium to the rules of books or movies or any other form of storytelling?
On the one hand, I understand why this complaint may be levied. On the other, I think it misses the mark. “Linearity” is, essentially, a tool used by the developers to craft an experience. It allows them to ensure that the pacing is spot-on and that concepts or mechanics are introduced in a way that feels right to its audience. It can create a sense of focus, allowing the player to truly master the gameplay.
If, however, a developer takes this approach, the gameplay had better be good. If there is nothing else for the player to do besides one or two things, and those one or two things don’t stack up, then there’s nothing else to fall back on. And that was the case with Final Fantasy XIII.
Final Fantasy XIII was a game where you walked down a hall and fought enemies. What could be bad about that? Well, in this case, combat was less about “swinging swords and dodging attacks” and more about “telling people what their job was.” You’d set a paradigm, like “Relentless Assault” where the three members of your party would all fight enemies. If you were feeling the pain, you could try “Salvation” where everyone would heal each other. You could run a “Defensive Screen” or try out “Solidarity,” any number of paradigms where teammates would take on a specific role in the group.
And I just found it to be boring. I was watching gauges fill up and health bars deplete, occasionally pressing buttons to switch paradigms or override a command. While playing Final Fantasy XIII, the player’s job is to supervise and optimize, coming up with the best combinations of paradigms to quickly and efficiently clear out enemies. I’m sure this is enjoyable to some people. But to me, it felt tedious. I was micromanaging a game that was playing itself.
I knew that this entry would take a “high-level” approach to combat, similar to the skirmishes in Final Fantasy XII. However, XII offered more exploration and questing to the player. Final Fantasy XIII lives and dies by the quality of its combat, and when that doesn’t click for you, the whole game doesn’t click.
The "Best Encounter" Award
This award goes to the best thing you came across in a game, be it a boss battle or buried treasure.
At long last, 2023 saw the release of one of the most anticipated releases of all time. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is one of the best games ever made and easily hangs around in my nebulous Top Five ranking. This most prestigious of sequels was released in the spring and took the world by storm, dominating the zeitgeist for weeks, if not months.
I didn’t really love it! I think it has a lot of problems! Oh no!
What were those problems? Well, it’s complicated…so complicated, in fact, that I’ll probably need to write a separate essay one day. There’s a lot to unpack. Pros and cons abound. Despite this murky preamble, The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom does offer one glimmering point of perfection: The Battle Against Colgera. There are a bunch different reasons why this fight rules. Let’s enumerate them!
The setting is awesome. There is something undeniably fun about a mid-air battle. There’s a sense of urgency, as the fast-approaching ground is very eager to make your acquaintance. Fighting on, despite the impending collision, fills you with a sense of superhuman excitement. Sure, Link can bust out his hang glider at any moment, but when you’re looking up at a giant Ice Worm Dragon Monster Thing, it’s very easy to lose your sense of positioning. The swirling winds and stormy clouds only add to the sense of immediate danger in this encounter.
The nuts and bolts are incredible. Colgera, like many Nintendo bosses, has a weak point. Several, actually, and shooting big flashy points of interest with a bow and arrow is extremely cool. Extremely. Cool. However, this is a free-fall fight after all, and the team recognized that an even cooler option should exist: diving bombing this motherfucker. Should bows and arrows not be your thing, you can just aim your body at Colgera’s segmented weak points and blast through them like a human bullet. It rules. It rules so hard.
The music is perfect. There are actually two reasons why the music kicks ass, so let’s subdivide this list even further!
It’s awesome. Listen to this! Pretty great, huh? It’s good stuff.
The dynamic score is part of a larger aspect of the storytelling at play here. You notice how the music suddenly gets really upbeat around the eleven minute mark? That’s not the standard boss battle music, that’s actually the theme of the Rito. This tune first debuted in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker and has accompanied the Rito in every game since. So why is it playing here? Well, it’s a reflection of your companion’s character arc. Throughout the chapter, you’re accompanied by Tulin, a Rito fledgling who really wants to be treated like an adult (a trope that never fails to hit me right in the heartstrings). Well, when Colgera appears, it’s Tulin’s “put up or shut up” moment…his chance to prove he really is the warrior he claims to be. This upbeat Rito tune plays once the tide turns in his favor, a reflection of his coming of age.
Tears of the Kingdom may not be perfect, but this moment is. It’s an excellent culmination of story, setting, and mechanics, illustrating just how rich storytelling can be in an interactive medium.
The "Oh Yeah, I Did Play That..." Award
This award goes to the game that I just plain forgot I played.
There were two games that came out this year that were sequels to games I absolutely loved. One of which was the aforementioned Legend of Zelda title, but the other was more of an oddball game. I never would have thought that Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle would be one of my favorite Switch games, but it’s been six years and this family-friendly tactical fighter remains one of my top picks for the console. So one would think that Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope would be on my Highly Anticipated Games of 2023 list, right? Well, unfortunately, the game came and went, but I have nothing profound to say about it.
What makes this game’s forgettable nature so strange is, frankly, the fact that the game is actually very good. The combat is great! Maybe even better than that of the original! By abandoning the grid-based nature of its predecessor and allowing the player to freely move across the map, all manner of clever maneuvers can be attempted. The weapons and power-ups are crafty and ingenious, and the enemy variety is top-notch. This is a really great game!
Here’s the thing: the original game was full of manic energy. You felt like you were barreling forward on this train and the wheels could fly off at any moment. This chaotic world was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of its own absurdity. Each of the four chapters had long, linear maps that struck a masterful balance of anarchic battles and decompressing puzzles.
Sparks of Hope, by contrast, offers the player several small, open worlds to explore. As in traditional RPGs, enemies encountered in the overworld take you to a separate battle screen, and side quests and collectibles are likewise spread out across the map. As a result, the tight pacing of the original is lost. Furthermore, the bizarre energy of the original is dialed back as well. Gone are the dizzying situations put forth by a cast of frantic characters. Instead, we have a collection of worlds that feel…normal.
Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope, much like Tears of the Kingdom, is a technical improvement over its predecessor, but lacks the hard-to-quantify charm that made those predecessors great.
The "Best Replay" Award
This award goes to the game that I replayed and for which I’ve gained a new understanding or appreciation.
When you replay a game, you can sometimes become blind to its inner machinations. You don’t really need to think about it too hard…you go into Autopilot Mode and revisit the familiar places that exist in your memory. The sights, sounds, and feelings all ensconce you like a fuzzy blanket. It feels great! But you may not notice some of the tiny little imperfections amidst the warm embrace of nostalgia.
A few years ago, my wife (then girlfriend) played a game I’d pushed onto her plate. She didn’t have a particularly long gaming resume, so it could serve as a gentle reintroduction to the world of video games. On the flip side, I’d been begging my friend, who has played more games that I can ever dream of playing, to try out the same title. They both got back to me and said, yes, the game rules. So, on one of the few weekends that wasn’t already spoken for by a demanding schedule, I finally revisited Paper Mario.
And folks, it does, in fact, rule.
Paper Mario excels at everything it sets out to do. Shall we make another list within a list? I think so!
The story is the best in the series. Yes, I know, Mario games aren’t famous for their stories (and they shouldn’t be!), and yes, Paper Mario does have a light narrative touch when compared to games like Metal Gear Solid or Final Fantasy. However, the notes that Paper Mario endeavors to hit are all high ones. The characters are all incredibly endearing, the world is full of charm and detail, and Princess Peach, for the first time, actually plays a vital role in her own rescue. There is an earnest nature to Paper Mario, something that has been lost as the series has progressed. While later entries would boast a tongue-in-cheek metatextual sense of humor, this game never abandons its dedication to its own story.
The music and artwork are both top notch. It’s uncommon for a soundtrack to have nothing but bangers, but Paper Mario’s track listing does not contain a single dud. From rockin’ battle themes to magical moments of serenity, every track hits. Likewise, the artwork manages to capture a storybook aesthetic in a 3D space. Colors pop, characters stand out, and the beautiful environments never fail to leave an impression.
The combat has depth AND encourages experimentation. Many RPGs allow you to play your way. That’s their appeal, after all. You wanna be an all-powerful mage or a big strong swordsman? Go right ahead! The problem that some players run into, however, is that they have spent hours levelling up into a class that they don’t ultimately enjoy. By that time, unfortunately, it’s too late to turn back without wasting hours of your life grinding for XP. Paper Mario, on the other hand, allows players to learn new skills and abilities, but never requires a permanent commitment. By putting on (or taking off) badges, players can try out different techniques at their own leisure. And, in so doing, it allows players to find incredible synergies and create a playstyle whose depth knows no limits.
My friends told me that Paper Mario still holds up, but replaying the game with the specific intention of re-examining its mechanics allowed me to appreciate it all over again. It is a game perfect for newcomers and seasoned veterans alike. Everyone should play Paper Mario!
The "Waiting for Game-dot" Award
This award goes to the game that I didn't play this year, nor last year, nor the year before that. Maybe next year.
I try to alternate between “time-consuming heavy” games and “light, quick, breezy” experiences. I usually feel very full, like I’ve had a complete meal, after sinking over fifty hours into a game, so the quick turnover of smaller indie titles helps keep things fresh. This year, however, I devoted all of my “big game” attention to titles released by Square Enix and Nintendo. Those are the games that are often ranked as “Bests” of their year, or are recommended to me by friends.
Does this sound familiar? That’s because the same thing happened last year. And the year before that.
My slavish devotion to Fantasies, Marios, and retro staples meant I never got around to playing a game that I’m sure I’ll love, Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Nintendo has a way of reinventing genres that I’d otherwise be so-so on. They did it with Splatoon and Mario Kart. But something seems too daunting about learning a game this meaty.
However…there is an update, lest you think this entire entry is copy+pasted from last year’s list. Though I haven’t played this Fire Emblem, I have now played two Fire Emblems.
The "Game That Made Me Think" Award
This award goes to the game that has educated or informed me in some way.
I would start off this paragraph by saying “I have a rule,” but if there’s one thing you’ve probably learned from reading this list (or anything else I’ve written), it’s that I have a shit ton of rules, they are all wildly pedantic, and I am unyielding in my adherence to them. I am the way that I am and I will not apologize.
One of my many rules is that video games take Attention Priority. I do not listen to podcasts or watch movies or multitask in any way. My attention is devoted to The Game. The reason for this is quite simple: I want the full treatment. I want to take in the world. I want to see how the music and visuals intertwine. I don’t want to be denied any aspect of the experience.
So when I started playing Borderlands, I did just that. My undivided attention, full stop. But, as the hours went on, I found myself…kinda bored. This wasn’t a particularly dynamic or exciting world. There wasn’t much music to speak of. And I was fighting the same enemies over and over again. This was gonna be a loooooong game, wasn’t it?
Whenever I told friends I was playing Borderlands, they all said the same thing. “Oh, I liked it. I played it with so and so.” You see, this is a co-op game. Sure, you can play it solo, but most people get some friends together and play as a group. They hop on a call and shoot the shit while exploring the planet of Pandora. In fact, when you boot up the game, the first thing it prompts you do is connect to a lobby. Playing together was, in effect, the intended experience.
Now, I don’t like playing multiplayer games…kind of at all. But it got me thinking; if this game was meant to be played with A Distraction, maybe I’d give myself a distraction. So, instead of calling up my buddies, I threw some Star Trek: The Next Generation on my other monitor and got back to playing. This was, without a doubt, the right move. After all, I’ve seen Star Trek before, so I didn’t feel like I was missing out by only “kinda” watching it. I could listen to the adventures of the Enterprise crew while keeping my hands and eyes busy navigating caves and raider camps.
The “attention balance” can be a tough tightrope to walk when multitasking, but when you get it right, nothing is better. It forced me to rethink my habits…yes, I have my rules, but rules are meant to be broken. Maybe there is some flexibility in the way I approach games after all. I have yet to play any other Borderlands games, but next time I go Vault Hunting, it will certainly be with some familiar faces populating my second monitor.
The "Best Music" Award
This award goes to the game with the best music. Kind of self-explanatory.
This is the first time, in the many years I’ve been doing this, that I feel like I’m…sort of cheating with this answer. Unlike in prior entries, this is the first time that I chose a game whose soundtrack I was familiar with beforehand. Ever since Celeste worked its way into the zeitgeist, the vaporwave arpeggios and staccato piano notes have been a staple of my two thousand-plus song Video Game Music Playlist. However, Celeste was never eligible for awards consideration in my year end reviews because, well, I’d never played the game. Those are the rules, Maddy!
So, while it’s true the music absolutely whips, I was provided with a rare opportunity: to completely rediscover something via context. Like all soundtracks, each song is meant to accompany something. Levels provide circumstances, and hearing how those circumstances related to the music I’d been familiar with for years was a remarkable experience. I understood how the dynamic percussion worked! I recognized the importance of the various leitmotifs! I even teared up during the prologue when that bridge began to collapse. I had put off playing Celeste for quite a while because, frankly, the game’s difficulty intimidated me. But I finally started to climb the mountain…and the surge of emotion I got from the familiar score provided me with all the motivation I needed to see the adventure through to the end.
The "Best Mechanic" Award
This award goes to the very best "thing" that a game allowed you to do.
What, exactly, is a mechanic? This is a question that has plagued armchair critics and internet commenters alike for years. Is it something small, like “swinging a sword” or is it a larger apparatus, like “using all magic?” No one has an answer for this question because, frankly, it’s not particularly important to answer. I bring this up not to point out how imprecise the English language is, but to silence any haters who want to say that All of Final Fantasy XVI’s Combat is not “a mechanic.”
Yes it is, shut up.
I suck at action games. I am shit at Bayonetta and Street Fighter. I can’t remember combos to save my life. I find the constant numbers flashing across the screen incomprehensible and illegible. So when I learned that this new Final Fantasy game’s combat would be led by Ryota Suzuki, a Devil May Cry veteran, I started to get scared. Would this be an action-packed adventure or an unintelligible slog of button mashing and flashing lights? To say that it’s “the former” does not even begin to describe Final Fantasy XVI.
When you fight an enemy in Final Fantasy XVI, you fight with intent. You fight with precision. You fight like you’ve been doing it your whole goddamn life. This high-speed blend of melee and magic is deliberate without ever feeling alienating. From minikin squabbles with mosquitoes to epic showdowns against fire-breathing dragons, the expansive list of moves in your arsenal is complex without ever feeling overwhelming. The user interface is sleek and streamlined, allowing the user to cycle through any number of magical moves without fumbling through menus or systems.
Final Fantasy XVI starts you off slowly, but ramps up quickly. However there is a clear purpose and mindfulness that went into the crafting this game’s combat. From the introductory chapters to the challenging side quests, you will develop a mastery of the Final Fantasy XVI’s mechanics and feel like Neo at the end of The Matrix.
The Game of the Year
The big boy.
Expectations, broadly speaking, are fucking weird. There are so many tiny, intangible little things that go into our favorite pieces of art, but we very frequently fail to articulate them. Hell, we may not even fully understand them. We say that things are “Good” or they are “Bad.” We say that things are “just like Lord or the Rings” or are “the Dark Souls of turn-based deckbuilding farm simulators.” We may not even understand why we love the things we love or hate the things we hate. It may not be until we are halfway through a movie that we realized just how much we value the things missing from the screen.
For better or worse, Bethesda has a reputation in the gaming industry. They are known for their massive scope and their frequent glitches. They are known for their captivating worlds and their repetitive encounters. They are knowing for giant leaps forward and their frequent steps backward. They are fun and frustration incarnate; folks who make some of the prettiest, messiest, most complicated pieces of artwork around. So when they announced a brand new science-fiction IP, what could you expect?
A lot of people expected Fallout: In Space or The Alien Scrolls. You make a character, go to planets with big, wide-open maps, and shoot stuff! You join a faction and talk your way into (and out of) finicky situations. You buy stuff for your ship and you get married to some NPC who is otherwise a pack mule for your extra loot.
And, to a certain extent, that’s exactly what Starfield is…at least on the surface. You do all of those classic Bethesda things you’ve done time and time again. But Starfield is so much more, and it’s that “more” that makes this game so incredibly different.
Starfield is far and away the most ambitious title Bethesda has ever released. I was gobsmacked time and time again during my playthrough at the sheer audacity of Todd Howard’s crew. I could not believe the countless different tasks I was asked to complete during the campaign, and how much fun they all were. Quantum entanglements! Full-scale space battles! Corporate espionage! Monsters lurking in the shadows! Gun-slinging stand-offs! Backroom bribes! From combat to stealth to conversation, I never knew what the next mission would have in store for me…but I knew they would always be incredibly clever.
Despite the galactic vision of the game, Starfield’s narrative scope is incredibly focused. In addition to a main quest, players are invited to participate in four faction quests and each one feels deliberate and refined. Yes, there are hundreds of planets upon which you can build bases and mine for resources, but the story is confined to a select few points of interest, and the game is all the better for it. It truly feels like a civilization on the verge of something beautiful.
What’s even more impressive than Starfield’s abundance is its restraint. The game knows when to let you sit with your loneliness. The capitol of Mars is a colony…a small mining outpost with a few barracks and shops. When you step out of the climate-controlled habitat, you are alone in the harsh Martian atmosphere. A lesser game would have populated this part of the map with bizarre creatures that spring up from below the surface of the planet. This is a game, after all, why not give the player something to shoot at on their way from Point A to Point B? But Starfield is content to let you wander the desert alone, with nothing but red clouds of sand blowing across the jagged mountains around you. The galaxy contains just as many inhospitable planets as it does welcoming ones. It doesn’t need to dangle sparkly keys in front you, like you’re a toddler in need of stimulation. You are free to simply exist in this world.
In moments like this, I would exhale in relief. “Okay, they got it right.” But those moments became less and less frequent because the fear of a misstep slowly evaporated. Starfield knows what the hell its doing. In conversations with friends, we would frequently talk about the decisions the game makes and, after looking at what other games have done in the same situation, we’d arrive at the same conclusion: Bethesda really knows what it’s doing, huh?
Starfield is the game I’ve always wanted, but could never really articulate. I wanted to experience Space and everything that entailed. I wanted something that was Star Trek. Something that was 2001: A Space Odyssey. Something that was No Man’s Sky and Deliver Us the Moon and The Outer Worlds and The Outer Wilds and Alien all at the same time. Starfield is all of those things and none of those things at the same time.
That’s not to say Starfield is perfect…games without the words “Metroid” or “Prime” in the title rarely are. However, Starfield is ambitious. It’s ambitious at a time when games, frankly, often aren’t. It’s ambitious in ways that Bethesda often isn’t! When I play through the game, I can feel the passion emanating off of every single texture and text box. There is craftsmanship and care woven into the fabric of every mission in the game. It would be easy for Starfield to be Fallout: In Space. It would be easy to make some cool looking aliens, give the Vault Boy a helmet, and say “Hey, it’s something, right?” But that’s not what Bethesda did. Instead, they made something truly unique. They went out of their comfort zone and swung for the fences. Starfield strives to be better, and for that, it is the Game of the Year.
Just kidding, it's Metroid Prime Remastered, baby!
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