Well... that was fast. Perhaps I can tempt you into reading on by promising this opening to be the last reference to 2020's C-word. One way or another, I had ample opportunities for playing games this year - here are ten of my favourites.
Many of those reading this may recall how this goes. Writing these posts has been an annual occurrence for five years now, which probably makes this officially a habit. A quick reminder nonetheless - some games from previous years are included, because I want to talk about them! And imagine if I limited myself to only games released in 2020 - you don't really need my nuanced opinions of this year's latest Picross game on the Switch. Though if you hang around for the honourable mentions...
10. My Time At Portia
Late in 2019 I signed up to Microsoft's Gamepass service, and aside from the intense value for money it provides, a handy side effect came in exposing myself to games I might not otherwise have invested in. My Time At Portia is most likely pigeon-holed into a generic "action-adventure with some crafting" slot, but it turned out to have a lot more going on than I expected. Set in the brightly-coloured, idyllic, titular Portia I found myself at different times mining, getting to know the local townspeople, winning fishing tournaments, dungeon-crawling, farming, feeding and training my loyal horse Red Rum... and yes, quite a bit of crafting. Crafting mechanics haven't always appealed to me in games, but My Time At Portia does a great job of constantly giving you goals that encourage engagement with its crafting systems.
For example, one of the early tasks in the game is to construct a bridge on the local river. This requires some planks, copper pipes, sheets of metal and some bricks - but in turn all of these items need to be produced from a variety of quaint machines in what was soon to be my very active workshop. Cutting the wooden planks, baking bricks in the furnace and so on starts in-world timers that tick down gradually - giving me ample time to explore the area, mingle with the townsfolk and pick up yet more tasks. This all makes for a very gratifying gameplay loop of making stuff and discovering stuff, wrapped up in an exceedingly pleasant atmosphere that made me only too happy to spend a lot of time in Portia.
I have some criticisms of the game - to put it bluntly, it has a distinct lack of polish and feels low budget in all sorts of ways, from a lack of sound effects in combat to menus displaying incorrect button prompts. It is an indie title, and as such I was not expecting a lavish AAA experience, but equally I didn't expect a completed game to feel like it was still in Early Access. Nonetheless, the positives above outweigh these negatives, and I happily spent many an hour in its delightful little world.
9. Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night
From one Gamepass-acquired new gaming experience to another: Bloodstained is a spiritual sequel to the Castlevania series, which I for no particular reason have left largely untouched. I am certainly familiar with the long-reaching influence of Castlevania, strongly associated with expansive 2D environments that fill out a map as you explore them, weapons and character upgrades that transform dead ends into new paths forward, and of course a host of demonic and vampiric enemies.
There was no real learning curve in Bloodstained - from the very beginning the feel of its movement and combat was incredibly satisfying, and the design of its enemies and levels compelled me to press on and uncover more of the map. Add in some other unexpected surprises - I was not prepared for a cooking system that extended my playtime by a dozen hours - and some truly bizarre elements of its art - from what I understand some Kickstarter backers managed to get their pets into the game as enemies - and you get a game that constantly impresses and is enjoyable to play moment to moment, start to finish. The only reason it's not higher on this list is that everything else either hit a very high bar or was more memorable for personal reasons - Bloodstained is worth just about anyone's time.
8. Final Fantasy XV
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| Gladio needs to work on his photo bombs |
Final Fantasy has been a part of my gaming life for a long time - I could go on for a long time about the elements I love in the older games and the intense nostalgia I have for them, but that's a conversation for another time. The fifteenth entry in the series, however, was my first 'new' FF game in quite some time, and I was pleasantly surprised that despite some fundamental changes to the gameplay, there were still plenty of the style and trappings of the older games.
The unfamiliar: FFXV is largely comprised of slowly driving through what might as well be literally Nevada, via the premise of a stag do road trip with some monster-fighting along the way. Turn-based combat is essentially consigned to the past - you could pause the action to pursue a more strategic approach, but the natural flow of the game revolves around holding down an attack button, dodging blows when under pressure and triggering a variety of special abilities in partnership with your fellow spiky-haired stag-doers. When the pace and challenge of this action-based combat are favourable, it makes for a great experience. When they're not, it's a considerable mess - but more on that in a moment.
The familiar... is less tangible but very meaningful. It's the feeling of entering a new region and soaking up the atmosphere of a new Final Fantasy location. It's receiving an ass-kicking from an intimidating monster and returning ten hours later with higher stats and more understanding of the game's systems, and putting those Coeurls in their place. And yes, it's a lot of transparent nostalgia bait - enemies, items and spells from the earlier games, and even soundtracks of previous entries to listen to on your road trip. Low hanging fruit that I happily consumed.
FFXV is also, at times, a deeply flawed mess of a game. The combat, as hinted at above, becomes unmanageable with more than a few enemies and by the end of the story felt dull and rote - even in comparison to its predecessors and other Japanese RPGs. The final third of the game swapped the expansive openness of its world for the antithesis, a series of extremely linear dungeons, which I would have excused if they hadn't gone on forever with no sense of challenge. There are also plenty of holes to pick in the plot and world-building of FFXV, which is saddening because the core cast rank among the most likeable video game characters I've interacted with in recent memory.
And all that's without getting into how a cloud save bug almost wiped 30 hours of progress through the game. Through a lot of googling and my innate bloody-minded stubbornness I found a way around the bug, resurrected my save files and finished FFXV. I'd say that is evidence that, all problems aside, this was a fascinatingly endearing game to me. Perhaps not one I can recommend to everyone, but among the most beautiful train-wrecks in the medium.
7. Spelunky 2
The original Spelunky is another game that looms large in my memories. The 2D platforming roguelike was unforgiving, and consequently immensely satisfying whenever I made progress. The sequel somehow manages to up the difficulty, and I'm happy to report the rewards feel that much greater.
For the uninitiated, both Spelunky's involve descending through treacherous procedurally generated levels, encountering a vast array of cute but deadly enemies that can take you out extremely quickly. After each attempt you will start from the beginning, armed with your growing knowledge of the game. Basically deaths are frequent and the most promising run can end without warning thanks to the chaotic web of possibilities in Spelunky.
Not much has changed in the core elements and even look of Spelunky 2 from its predecessor. One could easily mistake a screenshot as being from the first game, with entire sets of levels such as the mines and the jungle making the leap to the sequel. Your spelunker moves in much the same way, and as previously starts with the trinity of whip, ropes and bombs at their disposal. There is of course some fresh content - new enemies, new areas and many new items to encounter that only add to the chaos. And then there are subtle alterations that became more impactful the more I played - for example, the jungle levels tend to have more claustrophobic sections covered in spiky brambles, which was intimidating initially but in time induced me into a deeper grasp of the game's fundamental movement physics.
Even after 40 hours and over 600 attempts (i.e. gruesome deaths) I've barely scratched the surface of Spelunky 2. Its similarity to the first game should not be taken for a lack of ambition, in my opinion - it builds on and exceeds the original, and as a result produces exponentially more ways of grinding my brief moments of confidence into dust. Highly recommended, provided you're not the type to throw a controller.
6. Fire Emblem: Three Houses
This one promised to be right up my alley: weaving storytelling and character development nicked from the Persona series into the turn-based strategy of Fire Emblem. Persona is one of my favourite gaming franchises, and ever since Persona 4 Golden on my Vita I've invested countless hours in these Japanese RPGs with their enjoyable alternation between dungeon-crawling and roleplaying a Japanese high school student. Fire Emblem, meanwhile, I dipped into only once and found it intriguing but somewhat impenetrable. Certainly the core gameplay of grid-based strategy was a fun experience, but an appreciation of the deeper systems in Fire Emblem eluded me. Three Houses still has many complex systems layered on top each other, but it seems the Persona-esque element was the last piece of the puzzle needed for me.
To boil down a narratively dense story as best I can, Three Houses throws your mostly silent protagonist into a professor's role at what is essentially a military school filled to the brim with anime students. World-shaking events and shadowy plots soon emerge, but at its core this is a game about getting to know these students, and seeing how they interact with each other. In true Persona style, the choices you make as their teacher have direct effects on the performance and abilities of these character when you take them onto the battlefield. I soon found myself utterly drawn into the loop of spending one play session exploring the school and the next session reaping the rewards of my tutelage in combat. The Switch is of course the perfect platform for this type of game, albeit the only place for it given that this is a Nintendo-owned property.
So the "level up your friendships" angle from Persona meshed neatly with Fire Emblem's massive cast of charming characters and deep strategic combat. It's also a particularly lengthy game, and I found myself desiring a break when I hit the halfway point in the story after 60 hours. Thanks to some other excellent games in this blog post I haven't gone back to Three Houses since, but when I do I'm sure it will suck me in once more.
5. Ori And The Will Of The Wisps
Another sequel to a stunning indie game from several years ago, Ori And The Will Of The Wisps is, first and foremost, an astonishingly beautiful work of art. It's also a tremendous entry in the Metroidvania subgenre, with intrinsically joyful controls and movement. There's a great deal to love in this game, whether you've played Ori And The Blind Forest or not.
If you have, be prepared for your heart strings to be toyed with once again - as with the first game, it's not long before one of Ori's adorable companions is struck down by a shadowy antagonist, and the day can only be saved by exploring a world that, it bears repeating, is a visual delight to take in and wonderfully gratifying to jump, glide and dash around.
I think this may have to be a shorter entry, as there's little else to stay other than to continually emphasise how fantastic an experience it is to play Ori And The Will Of The Wisps. Oh, and the music is absolutely glorious as well. Go play it.
4. Disco Elysium
Disco Elysium is a rather tough game to describe - I'll start by setting the opening scene and general premise. The main character wakes up in a hotel room surrounded by evidence of his drunken antics - necktie caught on the ceiling fan, one shoe on the outside balcony nearby a shoe-shaped hole in the window, the usual - and the after-effects of God knows how many substances have wiped all memory of his name, and indeed his entire identity. Amnesia may be an over-used plot device, but in this case it does an excellent job of creating a somewhat blank slate protagonist - you have some room to interpret this person, but certain aspects of his personality are bound to be a little unhinged. Over the course of the game the player can gradually fill in the blanks, largely through many, many dialogue choices.
This is where Disco Elysium is truly fascinating. On a very basic level you could describe it as an RPG, but every element of that genre is twisted in unusual ways. Where a 'normal' RPG would have character attributes that form their build, DE has a range of rather out-there personality traits: where 'strength' might be, it's 'physical instrument', 'pain threshold'; instead of 'intelligence', 'conceptualization', 'visual calculus'. Instead of perks, you have 'thoughts' that can be equipped, and over time 'internalised' for further effects. And where you might typically expect combat, you have a monumental amount of dialogue and inner monologue. Inspired by older PC RPGs such as Planescape: Torment, DE invests its energy and the majority of the player's time in a vast quantity of writing that often leans toward the surreal, and consistently is of the highest quality. It helps to have a patience for philosophical musing (although you will also find options to openly mock said philosophising) and I certainly could not recommend this to anyone who would finds reading a lot of text in games off-putting. However, if you're up for a very surreal choose-your-own-adventure, this game is definitely for you.
Disco Elysium has a distinctly melancholic tone, set in a fictional world populated with many types of politics you might encounter in our own. What political position you take is up to you, but the direction the narrative takes makes it clear that there are no easy answers nor simplistic views of history. Nostalgia for the old regime is mixed inextricably with the destruction that accompanied it; left, right and centrist views are all on offer constantly, none offering satisfactory conclusions. Appropriately, it is entirely possible through the personality-trait-RPG mechanics to adopt multiple contradictory ideologies - and fence-sitting is judged just as harshly as any other position.
But nor is Disco Elysium laser-focused on high-concept philosophy and political ideology. You may also find your character developing an intense obsession with public masturbation, or considering whether he is a 'superstar'. Traits such as 'electro-chemistry' may incessantly encourage you to drink, smoke and snort everything within reach. It takes some adjusting to at first, but the world of this game is incredibly well conceptualised, simultaneously surreal and all too real. If you've played anything remotely similar, I'd like to know about it - Disco Elysium is a very special game.
3. Spiritfarer
One of the most delightful experiences of the year caught me by surprise. Spiritfarer lays out its premise pretty quickly: Charon, who ferries souls into the afterlife, is retiring and the protagonist Stella (along with her adorable cat) is to take his place. In short order you're provided with a ship and meet the first soul who requires Stella's services, a stylish deer named Gwen.
The bulk of your time in Spiritfarer is spent exploring various small islands in a picturesque sea - functionally this may be Purgatory, but the visuals and atmosphere were so relaxing I often lost myself and temporarily forgot how profoundly sorrowful the game's central task was. Each soul you meet and invite to your ship is a distinctive, beautifully animated animal-person who will not be ready to pass on until you help them through their own brand of unfinished business. Furthermore, all of them require their own place to stay on the ship and regular meals, and this is where Spiritfarer's highly fulfilling gameplay comes in.
Your ship starts big and only gets bigger - think more frigate than yacht. Upon gathering certain materials, you are able to construct homes for each character, as well as other buildings such as a foundry, a sawmill, etc (it seems this was the year I was to get into crafting in games). All of these locations can be re-arranged like Tetris pieces, and as you gradually expand the real estate of the boat some building-juggling is a necessity. Before long you'll build a kitchen - every lost soul has likes and dislikes as well as a singular favourite dish, and experimenting with the game's simple cooking mechanic (combine up to two items in an oven) turned out to be the most engaging aspect of the game for me.
So there's quite a bit going on mechanically for a relaxing indie game about grief and loss. What ties everything together so well is the animation and characterisation of the dozen or so spirits Stella guides through the afterlife. As mentioned above, the animation and art in Spiritfarer is exceptional: it brought these characters to life (so to speak). And almost without exception, they were endearing and intriguing companions I delighted in accommodating on my boat. Eventually I became so in tune with the vibe of this game and its characters that I successfully predicted not just the types of food they would like, but in a couple of cases even their specific favourite dish. This all added up to a world I didn't want to leave... which ended up having an emotional impact during the game's ending, unsurprisingly given the premise. Spiritfarer is simply wonderful.
2. Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice
So I went into Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice expecting punishment and hoping to stubbornly persevere. This latest From Software game went down a markedly different direction from my Dark Souls background, however: firstly, it is set in feudal Japan, and anyone familiar with my interests can imagine how this appealed to me. Sekiro is full of gorgeous environments to explore, from snowy mountains to autumnal forests to imposing Eastern castles. When you're not being murdered in this game, you're cautiously investigating every route that could lead to an ability or item that might assist you - or at the very least, some less lethal adversaries. A grappling hook installed in the protagonists prosthetic arm makes the movement around the world very fluid, and helpfully provides a swift escape when fights go poorly. In between bouts of having your arse handed to you, you can at least admire the scenery.
One of the other highly notable changes from Dark Souls is a particular focus on parrying, suitably in keeping with the Eastern swordplay that comes with the Japanese setting. At first this aspect of Sekiro made me yet more fearful, as parrying in Dark Souls was far from my strongest suit. Little did I know this would be the primary reason I had a fantastic time in this game. It's hard to put into words, but the feeling of being utterly in the zone and deflecting blow after blow had an almost addictive quality. The majority of enemy attacks can be met with a satisfying 'clang', and those that can't typically have other gratifying ways to riposte. Gaining such an intrinsic grasp of the heart of Sekiro's combat design imbued me with confidence even after repeated failure - once I could recognise a boss's tells, they didn't stand a chance. I was actually quite surprised when I discovered the consensus that Sekiro was significantly more challenging than From's previous works. My relative mastery of the game therefore provided a pretty self-satisfying ego boost - a nice bonus on top of an already exceptionally fulfilling experience.
My only criticisms of Sekiro revolve around some of its deeper systems, particularly the "dragon-rot" that spreads the more you fall in combat: I won't get into it here, other than to say it felt bitterly unfair at first, and when I understood it better, poorly implemented and largely irrelevant. For the most part though, the only downside is that there isn't more of Sekiro, such as a more interesting new game plus mode. Throughout 2020 I was certain it would be my Game of the Year, but it was unseated at the very last...
1. Hades
I could gush endlessly about the many positives of Hades, and judging from online discourse, I'm far from alone. By the time I played it, the superlatives I was hearing sounded far too good to be true. Could a dungeon-crawling roguelike set in the Greek underworld really live up to the hype? These seemed like well-worn paths, and at first I found it charming but not as unparalleled as some were claiming. After 45 hours and a dozen successful escapes from hell, I can absolutely confirm: everyone was right. Hades approaches perfection.
Let's start with the amiable impression it made before I fell in love with it. The cel shaded, colourful aesthetics are appealing on a basic level. The characters, especially the portraits shown in conversations are a joy to behold and exceptionally detailed. Dying in the game is no hassle at all, because failing to escape means another chance to mooch about your home base, the House of Hades, and engage in more intriguing conversations with these gorgeously designed characters. The 'dungeon' parts of the game are no less beautiful, not least because this is where you encounter the Olympian gods, which brings me neatly along to the primary gameplay in Hades, its endlessly captivating combat.
Hades does an incredible job at allowing the player to gradually attain mastery over its weapons, enemies and many, many character upgrades, which take the form of "Boons" from the Greek Pantheon. These Boons customise your weapons and abilities in ways relevant to the God who provided them - Zeus may cause lightning bolts to strike enemies in addition to the swing of your sword, for example. There are enough of these abilities to allow an unimaginable number of different combinations - the roguelike genre is arguably defined by the prospect of every run offering unique possibilities, and Hades finds a way to make practically every attempt enjoyable if not ecstatic. I haven't even mentioned the distinctive feel of each of the game's six weapons, the alternate versions of each weapon that add more interesting layers, or the way certain combinations of abilities had me reliving moments in Hades over and over in my head. Writing this Top 10 list took longer than I intended because I couldn't help diving back in for more.
Even more impressive is how Hades's story interweaves with the gameplay. Most combat encounters will take a couple of minutes at most, but can be sufficiently intense that a momentary break is welcome, and at these points the game drip feeds narrative to you as a precursor to accepting a Boon. The arrogance and capriciousness of the Greek pantheon is literally ancient history, but the flavour and richness of the dialogue with the gods takes Hades's storytelling to another level. Every escape attempt tangentially fills in more blanks in the story, and after enough time played the result is a comprehensively realised world and atmosphere. The total script supposedly runs to over 300,000 words, and what's yet more astonishing is how well-wrought every line is.
Hades is endlessly replayable thanks to its top-notch combat that show no signs of getting old. It looks and sounds delicious, making every moment spent in the underworld entertaining. It tells a freshly engaging story about figures of Greek mythology, the very oldest subject matter of all forms of literature. It finds a way to make a roguelike dungeon-crawler accessible no matter how little knowledge or experience you might have with the genre. And it could quite plausibly put fewer games into contention for my Top 10 of 2021, because I struggle to foresee when I will stop playing.
Honourable mentions that missed out on the Top 10:
The Last of Us Part II - remarkable journey through post-apocalyptic America let down by some beloved characters being nonsensically rewritten.
Judgment - great spin-off of Yakuza, but be warned: they inexplicably didn't include a karaoke minigame.
Microsoft Flight Simulator - the technology behind the game is more interesting than the game.
Super Mario Galaxy 1 & 2 - always worth replaying some of the best games of all time, especially in a higher resolution than Nintendo ever intended.
The Nonary Trilogy - who would've thought Japanese visual novels inspired by the Saw films would be weird?
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