It took a while, but I moved my video game list collection to a site called backloggd.com. Backloggd works identically to Letterboxd, a much more popular site for reviewing films. I like both sites, as they work the way I went a collection to work. Both reward the user the more you put into it. Both sites remind me about what’s mostly good about the internet, that Flickr-like contribution to a commons.
There are still places where it’s fun to contribute.
I put reviews of movies in as I see them, and will probably do the same with games. Turns out, adding my collection inspired me to write a few reviews. With Letterbox, my reviews are usually one or two lines. I’ll rarely write an essay for a film. But with video games, I’m compelled to throw in a couple of paragraphs.
This might not be the writing I’d ideally like to be doing, but this seems to be there for now. Here are my first few reviews:
Tunic
In Tunic, every step feels like a hike through corridors of someone else’s nostalgia. They are familiar to us, though, as if someone told us about this place a long time ago. Are we traversing the remnants of our own memories, or are we guests in the recollections of another?
The language here is foreign, but translatable if you want to do the work. The instruction manual shows up as collectible pieces in-universe. The very cute character reads them as you, the player, read them.
The aesthetic captivates with its blend of low-poly simplicity and high-contrast intensity, especially when a baddie hits you (you can toggle that violent shake in settings). This world sucked me in with violent cuteness. The challenge presented is high, but that setting screen lets you dial in your own amount of comfort. After a while, I found myself in “no-hit mode,” and I began to feel more like a tourist than a survivor.
But perhaps the invincibility setting isn’t the solution. There are instances where the relentless assault of enemies becomes a tiresome slog, a hurdle that could have been alleviated by their removal rather than invulnerability. What would the game have felt like if there had been more ghosts than ghouls?
Tunic is a canvas, a modern art piece inviting us to bring our own meanings, to ponder “What if Link’s Awakening but more metaphors”? It becomes an allegory of environmental and personal energy, an exploration of the unseen forces that propel us forward.
Fire Emblem: Awakening
A decade later, I’m convinced Fire Emblem: Awakening saved me from not being a gamer.
I was disappointed by the 3DS and considered selling it. In 2013, I contemplated spending much less time on games, feeling like I had outgrown them, and that what was out there didn’t inspire criticism. I picked up this game based on the hype review cycle.
Fire Emblem: Awakening wielded its charm, ensuring my 3DS avoided the discard pile, ultimately solidifying its status as my preferred console. I’m not even a tactics gamer, which was fine here since it’s pretty simple as these things go.
The challenge increased significantly in certain parts, particularly in a few DLC chapters. However, it remained very doable for someone with no experience in tactics. It holds your hand for a good while.
One of the game’s most captivating aspects was its ability to create strong character moments and intimate side-scenes. The narrative drew me into the lives of the characters and making their fates all the more meaningful. I was not expecting to care for two dozen characters, but I absolutely did.
The option of perma-death added a layer of emotional weight that you’d expect. Maybe I’m a softie, but I turned this off very quickly. I liked these characters a lot, I found no fun in having them perish after a battle.
One of the many 3DS games I hope to see get a second life somewhere down the road.
Cuphead
Cuphead makes me think of bootleg VHS tapes of old cartoons. The quality would be shoddy. I think people don’t really remember how bad a poor-quality VHS tape really looked. After a handful of viewings, you’d notice artifacts and glitches. The tape itself would become stuck during a rewind, requiring manual intervention with your own fingers. You’d try to reel it back perfectly, but it would inevitably fold on itself somewhere, and that crease would never fully flatten out again. When you’d watch the tape, you’d see a flaw in the screen at the same time the crease would pass through the player.
Audiophiles talk about lossless quality today. VHS tapes (and cassettes) were the best example of loss quality.
The irony is, these bootleg VHS tapes of old cartoons were likely the ones being repeatedly played the most. You might watch a VHS movie a few times. But 60 minutes of bootleg cartoons? That’s going on repeat.
Cuphead’s art style—the main reason to explore this world and play this game—takes cues from 20s/30s cartoons, but nobody living today watched these cartoons in a movie theatre with real film. If they’ve seen them at all, they’ve likely seen them because of bootleggers, and most of that would be on VHS. The nostalgia here is as much for 100-year-old cartoons as they are for the artifacts and flaws we saw on top of them.
And the makers of Cuphead knows this, because you can see these kinds of flaws in the graphics (it’s more CRT and film-reel flaws than VHS flaws, but I’m really nitpicking there, aren’t I?) The flaws are part of the presentation, flattened together as an art project as much as a video game.
The game itself is a shoot-’em-up with some floaty platforming. You mostly jump and move around to dodge attacks from enemies. There’s not a lot of strategy here besides dodge and shoot. Cuphead’s design strategy is to consider the level before a boss fight to be fat, and they’ve largely cut that part out.
But you won’t survive without figuring out enemy patterns, which you do by looking at the graphics a lot. And that’s what the makers of Cuphead want you doing anyway, because these are amazing graphics. So in that way, a shoot-’em-up is maybe a great way to get gamers to walk through an art gallery.
Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker
Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker for the Nintendo 3DS is a brief, whimsical journey through puzzle-block dioramas. Each level takes less than five minutes, and none are hard. With around 80 adorable puzzle-block levels (I finished the game while only collecting every “gem” from about 50), its whole vibe is pretty forgiving.
The game starts and stops so often, it feels like a dark pattern to make sure you take breaks. Playing three or four levels before bed became a ritual, and this feels like the best way to experience the game’s tranquil charm.
What surprised me most is how Captain Toad creatively repurposes assets from Super Mario 3D World, akin to the clever strategy of Metal Gear Solid VR Missions or Majora’s Mask. Like VR Missions, it shows just how many good ideas don’t necessarily make the cut in the “A” game.
While it lacks a distinct style, its cuteness is undeniable. Toad and Toadette won me over with cuteness, which made it kind of heartbreaking when I would accidentally drop them off a sheer cliff.
I love that Toad and Toadette took turns getting kidnapped. The game has minimal violence, even compared to a Mario title. Even the baddies are just little guys.
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