Back then I didn’t know X3 was an inferior version of Tempest 2000 on the Jaguar, but it burnt a love of all things Minter deep into my gaming tastes. From there I hoovered up Space Giraffe (which looks incredible on Steam Deck OLED), developed a crippling late-night addiction to TxK that burrowed into my dreams, and played Polybius in VR for so long that after one session I fell down the stairs and hurt my shoulder. Worth it.
Enter Arizona Sunshine 2. The first game released in 2016 across multiple VR platforms and, while an utterly boilerplate zombie shooter, at least delivered on its promise of letting you mow down hordes of the undead with a variety of high-powered weaponry.
We’re now eight years on and the sequel has finally arrived. So, what’s changed?
Just as before you’re Jack, a true glass cannon protagonist whose speed, agility, and ever-growing suite of techno-ninjutsu abilities is matched only by his constant fragility.
In Ghostrunner 2 you will enter a combat arena and die instantly. At the tap of a bottom (and with no loading) you’re back to try again. This time you might die after a few seconds. Rinse and repeat twenty times and suddenly you have a plan:
Wallrun, slowmo dodge, kill, grapple, deflect, kill, boost pad, shuriken toss, mid-air grapple, kill, slide, vault, slice your cyberkatana through a cyberfreak’s body as the two cyberhalves spiral through the air in front of you. Ah, endorphins. There you are…
You play writer Etienne Quist, a writer serving a 30-year sentence (geddit?) of writer’s block for a mysterious crime. Etienne hopes to reduce his sentence by taking on “bookwalking” gigs, i.e. diving into various books to retrieve powerful items. For example, you’ll head into a fantasy world to swipe an Immortality Potion or venture into a gloomy robotic take on Norse mythology to get your hands on Mjolnir.
As I sat on the London Underground playing Death Becomes Her on my Switch I became intensely aware of the passengers on either side of me. Before this moment I’d never been self-conscious about gaming in public - why the hell should I care what some random strangers think of me? But I realized a glance at my screen would show two canoodling cartoon schoolgirls. Let’s face it, this is a powerfully bad look for a middle-aged man.
Now, courtesy of a demo courtesy of developers One More Level, that same adrenaline rush is back. What’s immediately apparent is that everything great about Ghostrunner is present in the sequel. This is an evolution rather than a ground-up reworking, to the point where my initial suspicions were that little had fundamentally changed.
35 years later (...ugh) and, despite my best intentions, I haven’t substantially improved. I’ve often returned to dip my toe into the genre, figuring that critically acclaimed darlings like
Radiant Silvergun, Ikaruga, or Gradius V would finally give me the motivation to get gud.
I never did, but even though I’m crap at them I maintain an admiration for their purity, the focus they require to master, the complex interlocking systems and, perhaps most of all, for the gaming wizards that can one credit clear these bad boys.
Enter the Ray’z Arcade Chronology, which consists of best-in-class remastering studio M2’s ports of three classic Taito shmups, 1994’sRayForce, 1996’s RayStorm and 1998’s RayCrisis.
Sadly the format didn’t last, presumably, because the internet is swimming with free trivia quizzes. These daysBuzz! games and peripherals are most commonly found clogging up the shelves of charity shops across the nation: casual players don’t need this plastic tat in their house and retro games fans are a little snooty about this powerfully mainstream mini-franchise.
It’s now been thirteen years since the last Buzz! game and the (aptly named) developer Simplicity Games thinks it’s time for a comeback. Enter Brain Show, which waits until the dead of night, grabs a shovel, heads to the graveyard, and tries to bring Buzz! back from the dead.
This cinematic 2D platformer is the debut release from indie developer Wishfully Studios, and if they’re setting out to make a name for themselves as an artistically minded team with a rock-solid grip on puzzle platformer mechanics then mission accomplished.
Set on an alien yet familiar world you play as young girl Lana, who we meet enjoying a bucolic life in her cosy fishing village. Naturally, as is the fate of practically every video game hero’s cosy home town, disaster soon strikes.
Robots emerge from the blue skies to entrap the locals and promptly speed off into the distance. Lana is the sole survivor and must rescue her ambiguously defined best friend/girlfriend/sister/boyfriend/brother from their steel clutches.
This is the setup for the tense and atmospheric Loretta, from developer Yakov Butuzoff. The game wears its influences on its sleeve, attempting to capture the paranoid vibes of Hitchcock movies like Vertigo, Dial M for Murder and a smidge of the desolate Psycho. Less a game and more of a visual novel, Loretta lets you guide the titular housewife through one of the worst weeks of her life while her sanity gradually crumbles under the weight of her past and her murderous inclinations.
But - and this is a big but - it’s interesting. And interesting goes a long way.
The past few years have seen a renaissance in throwback first-person-shooters attempting to recapture that retro magic, with highlights including Ion Fury, Dusk, and Prodeus. But, for me at least, few have nailed it quite like Fashion Police Squad.
But, for professional reasons, I was obligated to play the game prior to release and was sent a code by WB Games in order to do so. So here’s what I thought after coming to this game with zero excitement and a powerfully icky feeling at loading it up for the first time.
….It’s fine
Many unlikely games have made their way to Nintendo’s smash dual-function console, with the ports of DOOM, DOOM: Eternity and Wolfenstein: The New Colossus all delivering intense first-person action in the palm of your hand (albeit with many technical cutbacks).
But Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge was a laser-guided missile of early 90s bliss aimed right at my heart, and I was powerless to resist.
But I didn’t get to the end of We Were Here Forever.
Hell, I didn’t even get close.
Here’s why.