Lucas White
Game industry critic and reviewer
Writing For
Playstation Lifestyle
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A pumping soundtrack. The sounds of endless bullets. Naughty words that start with “eff” and rhyme with “pluck.” Yep, it’s time for a Devolver Digital-ass Devolver Digital review. Hopefully this one’s better than Anger Foot.
Before Skin Deep came across my desk, I had never even heard of it. That’s not to say there’s anything wrong, but that I went in completely blind. What is this game? Who knows, let’s just boot this bad boy up and see what happens. That’s probably for the best, because “immersive sims” don’t do a lot for me, and that’s exactly what Skin Deep is when you boil it down. However it’s also weird, scaled-down, relatively simple and fast-paced, and also, weird. It’s almost like someone took Deathloop and tossed it into a blender with a bunch of YouTube cat video compilations.
When Danganronpa creator Kazutaka Kodaka and Zero Escape/AI: Somnium Files creator Kotaro Uchikoshi formed (with other industry legends like composer Masafumi Takada) Too Kyo Games, fans of both series wondered if these modern visual novel/adventure game legends would collaborate. It took a while, but that day has finally come. The Hundred Line -Last Defense Academy- is the result, and it is exactly the kind of thing I expected from this dream team project. It’s completely unhinged, basically.
Readers, if you recognize my name, you probably know I love the heck out of classical, turn-based RPGs. I’m always happy in front of games like Dragon Quest, SaGa, Shin Megami Tensei, Final Fantasy, and other weird stuff that doesn’t have huge brand power. But if you asked me to name the quintessential RPG, the one that defines the genre in my mind, it’s gotta be Lunar. These games, especially their PlayStation remakes that were lovingly packaged in boxes full of goodies, were formative experiences for me at an age when I barely knew what things like anime and “role-playing games” were on a conceptual level. So much so that when I booted up Lunar Remastered Collection and started hearing its newly-recorded version of “Wings,” a wave of nostalgic yearning hit me like a truck. So, that’s the angle I’m coming to this review from. Be warned. We might get a little cringe tonight, folks.
Nitroplus’ Rusty Rabbit is an easy hook. The key visuals show us a bipedal rabbit, wearing a patched-up bomber jacket, chomping on a carrot like a cigar, with a village made of scrap junk on the side of a frozen mountain in the background. Learning the rabbit pilots a mech suit in Metroidvania dungeons and is voiced by Kazuma Kiryu of Yakuza fame in both Japanese and English seals the deal. But what might seem like a zany, over the top action game turns out to be more nuanced than you might expect. Weird, wholesome, and deliberately rough around the edges, Rusty Rabbit is an earnest passion project that looks like a normal video game but happens to be more of a visual novel-coded character study.
It’s a great time to be into SaGa. Kawazu’s team has been able to build on the success of some risky remasters, all the way to making a brand-new game and a full remake that has helped solidify SaGa as one of Square Enix’s secret weapons. As such, SaGa Frontier 2: Remastered was seen as the perfect time to try a “shadow drop,” and see how the RPG community reacts. I hope it does well, because not only is a new SaGa always a good time, but this remaster is a beautiful example of how an older game can be preserved and refined at the same time.
Bleach being back in 2025 is wild. I was in high school back when the “Big Three” were exploding in popularity, consistently topping charts and pushing more manga and anime into mainstream spaces in the west. But while One Piece and Naruto are still a constant presence in media and games, Bleach fell off a long time ago. Bleach’s anime ended prematurely in 2012 and hasn’t seen a console video game (aside from crossover appearances) since 2011. Over a decade later, Bleach is back to finish the story with the Thousand-Year Blood War anime series and Bleach Rebirth of Souls, a brand-new fighting game, to go along with it.
There’s a sequence in Look Outside I’m never going to forget. I’m in a ravaged apartment, fumbling in the dark for supplies and equipment. The family that lived here was overcome by the thing outside, but it’s not over for them yet. I’m dealing with them one by one, out of a mixture of pity and curiosity I’m not proud of. One of them, used to be a young boy before the teeth erupted from his throat, didn’t attack me first. Whatever’s left of him inside just wants to play with his army men. I found a little green soldier in the kitchen earlier, and, in a moment that feels more like accepting defeat than when I beat the kid’s father to death in the hallway, sit down to play.
Just like its impressively long and unwieldy title, Atelier Yumia: The Alchemist of Memories & the Envisioned Land is a messy game. But it’s a messy game with lofty ambitions and a lot to like, even if which pieces you end up liking are not the pieces you expected or wanted to like, especially if you’re a returning Atelier fan. It’s also hard to recommend Yumia as a starting point despite its apparent interest in being one, when I can point to Ryza as a strong foundation that manages to justify itself as a three-part arc that never overstays its welcome. What we have here is an RPG that casts too wide a net for its own good, but has a lot of cool ideas and hits enough different notes in different ways that still make it worth playing. For folks willing to engage with a flawed experience in good faith and put up with some janky bloat, Atelier Yumia has a lot going for it. But those looking for a more realized vision that cleanly hits its targets will likely lose patience.
When I was a kid, “edutainment” was a thing in video games, especially on PC. I had several point-and-click adventures that had me solving puzzles, answering trivia, and other brain-wrenching exercises to get by instead of simply jumping on goombas or whatever. They were neat, even if they didn’t adhere to the same kinds of standards as a big budget franchise like Mario or Final Fantasy. When I had a kid of my own, I noticed those games all but vanished, relegated to mobile titles that would sort of teach about numbers, letters, and such, but be more laser-focused and inevitably ask for more money. Carmen Sandiego was one of the biggest edutainment IPs of its time, and playing a new one in 2025 feels like rediscovering a lost art.