Ben Reeves
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Game Informer Latest Reviews
Video games have been trying to compete with film for years. Some developers hire A-list actors, pile on cinematic spectacle, and chase Hollywood flash like a cartoon coyote chasing its prey. While trying to compete with film, games have often adopted the language of cinema. Dispatch offers an alternative. Instead of imitating movies, it borrows liberally from prestige television, showcasing character-driven storytelling, slow-burn drama, and high emotional stakes that tighten with every epis...
Video games have been trying to compete with film for years. Some developers hire A-list actors, pile on cinematic spectacle, and chase Hollywood flash like a cartoon coyote chasing its prey. While trying to compete with film, games have often adopted the language of cinema. Dispatch offers an alternative. Instead of imitating movies, it borrows liberally from prestige television, showcasing character-driven storytelling, slow-burn drama, and high emotional stakes that tighten with every epis...
Video games have been trying to compete with film for years. Some developers hire A-list actors, pile on cinematic spectacle, and chase Hollywood flash like a cartoon coyote chasing its prey. While trying to compete with film, games have often adopted the language of cinema. Dispatch offers an alternative. Instead of imitating movies, it borrows liberally from prestige television, showcasing character-driven storytelling, slow-burn drama, and high emotional stakes that tighten with every epis...
Every adventure is a journey of some sort, but we are often so consumed with the destination we sometimes forget to enjoy the ride. Far: Changing Tides pushes you to soak in the small moments that can be overlooked in our rush to reach the peak. Okomotive newest side-scrolling platformer is a meditative odyssey full of trials and triumphs. But this pilgrimage is so powerful I was often content to forget about my end goal.
Mastering a martial art takes years – if not a lifetime. Disciples must hone their bodies to the point that they perform every attack, every counter, every movement with pinpoint precision. A skilled warrior must move without thinking. Likewise, mastering Sifu's combat system takes a high degree of dedication and practice. Like a true martial artist, you must push through the practice pains before you reap any rewards.
You wake up in a dark cabin, chained to a worn table. A mysterious man sits on the other side of the room. You can't see the details of his face through the darkness, but his crazed eyes pierce the shadows. Something under your belly lurches as he invites you to play a card game. The rules seem simple; you summon creatures to attack your opponent's army of foes, and you easily win the first few hands. Still, you can't shake the anxiety of what might happen if – no – when you lose. You play on, the eyes on the other side of the table slowly burning a hole in your stomach.
The Metroid series is largely defined by its haunting atmosphere and ominous tone. Inspired by the Alien film franchise and the works of H.R. Giger, Metroid has always been only a few steps removed from the horror genre. Metroid Dread inches the series even closer. The moment Samus sets foot on Planet ZDR, she becomes prey. Every deadly creature – and machine – in the world is hungry for Samus' blood, and she is trapped miles below the planet's surface, far from her ship. And, the only way out is through the barrel of her arm cannon. While Samus' latest adventure delivers the classic exploration-based platforming/action we've come to expect, I never shook the all-encompassing anxiety that gives this adventure its name … and I loved every minute of it.
In an era full of 100+ hour open-world campaigns and games as service titles that can be played in perpetuity, WarioWare's 3-to-5-second microgames almost feel like a commentary on the state of the industry. On the one hand, Get It Together's microgames require split-second thinking, continually offer the unexpected, and feel refreshingly original. On the other hand, this ultimately shallow experience left me wanting more.
The early Crash Bandicoot games of the ‘90s were partially experiments in how to navigate 3D space. Crash didn’t freely traverse an open world; he marched down tightly designed digital tunnels. The camera zoomed in and out of the action and panned around the character, which seemed novel at the time. However, Crash’s movement was limited in ways that seem restrictive by today’s standards. In some sense, Crash Bandicoot’s gameplay was a product of those limits of technology as much as it was any single creative vision. And yet, those limitations helped produce one of 1996's most memorable platformers. Crash Bandicoot 4: It’s About Time proves the classic formula still works in 2020.
A decade ago, the original Super Meat Boy released into what almost feels like a different industry. Team Meat's hardcore platformer was at the forefront of the modern indie renaissance; games like Super Meat Boy helped show that even small teams of dedicated developers could make a big mark on the gaming landscape. A few years later, Team Meat announced the follow up, Super Meat Boy Forever, a pseudo-sequel that would take Meat Boy into the world of autorunners. Naturally, this raises a few questions: can Team Meat distill Meat Boy’s pixel-perfect platforming into a game where players are limited to a single input? And, does Super Meat Boy Forever have any chance of leaving the same kind of cultural mark on the industry as its forerunner? Now that I’ve played the game, the answers are clearly “Surprisingly yes,” and “No chance in hell.”