Claire Jackson
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Writing For
KotakuLatest Reviews
With a unique setting and low barrier to entry, Flintlock might just be the invitation to the soulslike genre you’ve been waiting for
I’m soaking up the sun as I stroll along the beautiful beaches of Hawaii when suddenly a group of suspicious-looking characters take notice. As they approach, threatening me, I’m transported from the reality of Hawaii around me to some kind of alternate dimension where I’m expected to pull off some thrilling heroics. My enemies no longer look like your average tough guys on the street—their eyes glow red, they’re able to spew toxic fumes at me. But their new monstrous appearance is no match for my sweet selection of skills, my trusty baseball bat, and a crew of comrades who are ready to dive in with their own eccentric combat skills. But before they throw down, they’ll have to wait their turn, of course.
As my spaceship emerges from interstellar travel to orbit a once-distant alien world, I know that once I’m down on its surface, it won’t feel like a world at all. Instead, what Starfield will give me is a series of zones, awkwardly stitched together in a way that makes it hard to pretend they make up a planet. This world, pretty though it may be, is merely a stage set. That’s true of any game’s world, of course, but in Starfield, the illusion doesn’t hold up under the weight of so much menu diving, so many loading screens, so much repetition in planetary features and structures. Yet I land here anyway, ready to see what awaits, because there’s something at the core of Starfield that’s clicked with me, something that makes me wrestle with human truths and grand cosmic mysteries I can’t resist. I just wish the game’s weak points didn’t undermine the illusion it’s striving to create.