Top 5 Games I (Desperately) Wanted To Like

It’s no secret that games, perhaps more than any other medium, take up A LOT of one’s time. Nobody likes to feel like they’ve wasted their hard-earned time, and it can be difficult to know how much is needed to invest in a title before you can safely throw in the towel and admit it’s not working for you. 

Is it too obvious a thing to say that I want to like every game I play? As someone who’s been playing video games for the better part of two decades, I like to think I’ve built up a decent sense of what I know I’m gonna like and what I’m not gonna vibe with. But watching trailers, reading reviews, and listening to pundits share their thoughts is only going to tell you so much without getting your own hands on the sticks. That dissonance felt when you sit down to play a game you know you should love only to find out you can’t find the enjoyment in it is a special kind of disappointment.

There are plenty I could rattle off right now, but these five listed below were particularly hard to swallow. By the very nature of this topic, these are mostly universally beloved games. They’re titles that I totally acknowledge the value in and why people like them––I’m not trying to argue “they're bad actually”––but for one reason or another, they just didn’t work for me. With that being said, please keep your pants on and just remember that these are MY mildly hot takes alone.

With that little disclaimer out of the way, let’s jump right in with…

Deathloop

Loop closed

If you told me three years ago that one of my favorite studios of all time made a new IP in a genre I adore scoring 10s from GameSpot, IGN, VGC and several other outlets, and then told me it would turn out to be my least favorite game of 2021, I would guffaw at the notion. Unfortunately, this was the case for Arkane Lyon’s critically-acclaimed time loop shooter, and I couldn’t be more bummed about it.

Ever since playing Dishonored on Xbox 360 back in 2012, Arkane has been one of those development studios in my personal pantheon, where no matter what they’re working on, I’ll 100% be there for it. Their games were essentially my introduction to the whole “immersive sim” subgenre, and I’ve been chasing that high ever since. About three years ago, I went on an Arkane binge, playing every game in the studio’s 25-year history. From the enigmatic Arx Fatalis and awkward-but-playable Dark Messiah of Might and Magic, to the modern masterpieces of Dishonored 2 and Prey, I wanted to experience (or re-experience) everything they had to offer in my red-hot anticipation leading up to Deathloop’s release. I even went down the rabbit hole of learning about their canceled projects such as Ravenholm, The Crossing and LMNO (shoutout to the exceptional NoClip documentary “The Untold History of Arkane” on YouTube for more details on those titles).

When I finally got my hands on the game in late 2021, I was blown away by its presentation. This came as no surprise though, as all the marketing leading up to its release highlighted the groovy 60s aesthetic showcasing Jason E. Kelley and Ozioma Akagha’s characters, Colt and Julianna respectively, quipping their snappy dialogue that wouldn't sound out of place in a Quentin Tarantino movie. The gameplay makes a similarly great first impression, with sharp, responsive controls that feel just right and a buttery smooth 60 frames per second without a hint of stutter. 

The more I played, however, the more I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything felt “lesser than” compared to Arkane’s previous works. The gunplay felt smooth, but lacked a sense of weight when put up against Prey. It’s sprawling levels initially gave the impression that there would be a million little ways to approach the objective, à la Dishonored 1 and 2, but every loop revealed its overall lack of cohesion, making its beautiful environments feel like an obstacle that just isn’t very fun to traverse after the dozenth go around. Even when I started getting powers similar to Dishonored’s “Blink” ability, the relatively poor stealth mechanics and increasingly uninteresting levels made it a chore to keep playing.

In some ways, this is a culmination of everything Arkane has done in the past (they even brought the endlessly entertaining kicking mechanic back from Dark Messiah!). Yet for me, it all falls flat and ends up lesser than the sum of its parts. This isn’t to say I’ll never return to Deathloop, however. I’m hoping this is a case of bad timing on my part, and maybe when/if I come back to it I’ll slap myself on the head and wonder what the hell I was thinking. After all, the overwhelmingly positive reception it got with critics upon release couldn’t have just been a fluke, right?

Despite all my problems with Deathloop, I am eagerly anticipating Arkane Lyon’s Blade, slated for release sometime in 2025. I still have the utmost faith in that team, and I’m sure they’re cooking up a bloody good time worthy of their pedigree.

NieR: Automata

YoRHa? More like BoRHa

By virtue of this being a list of games I couldn’t get into, naturally that means I didn’t spend much time with them, though not for a lack of trying. And as any fan of NieR: Automata would tell you, playing through the game once doesn’t paint a complete picture. Not even close. Its multiple endings are a huge part of what makes it so special, or so I’ve been told. I’m willing to admit that I probably didn’t see enough of the game to give it a fair assessment, but between its unsatisfying combat, bland open world, and a story that failed to grip me, I couldn’t make it past the 10-hour mark.

On paper, Nier: Automata has got it all for me: PlatinumGames’ signature slick character action combat, a unique sci-fi setting with a philosophical story that ponders the cycle of life and death, a killer soundtrack composed primarily by the legendary Keiichi Okabe, and of course, a big booty robot protagonist named 2B. What’s not to love?

Well, it turns out not even the biggest robo-buttocks are enough to keep me engaged. The game starts off strong, throwing a barrage of of gameplay styles at you, from a top-down bullet hell, to a side scrolling shooter, into the more traditional 3rd person action combat, all while moving through a massive dilapidated industrial zone which efficiently tutorializes the gameplay and sets up the characters culminating in a thrilling cinematic boss battle. The whole time I was playing, however, something about the action never felt quite right. I know PlatinumGames can do character action well – that’s like, what they’re known for after all. Bayonetta and Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance have some of the best feeling melee combat ever designed. But when it came time to face off against the robot enemies on foot, it just felt limp, like 2B was whacking them with a pool noodle instead of the badass blades elegantly floating behind her.

Couple the lackluster combat with a drab post-apocalyptic open world area equipped with unengaging traversal mechanics, and you’ve got a recipe for putting me to sleep second only to NyQuil. I did keep playing, however, for a solid 10 hours––more than a fair amount of time to give it a chance to win me over. Alas, I couldn’t bring myself to care very much about any of the characters, and I felt the level design left much to be desired. Even the lauded amusement park area with all its dazzling fireworks and carnival rides fell completely flat, though I will confess that the soundtrack is a banger.

Clearly I’m in the minority, as I consistently see NieR: Automata appear on countless Top 10 lists and it’s often cited as someone’s favorite game of all time in the same breath as classics like Ocarina of Time or Final Fantasy VII. But alas, Yoko Taro’s supposed magnum opus didn’t do anything for me, and I don’t foresee future entries in the franchise to change that. It’s obvious that these games mean a lot to a myriad of people who really resonate with the creator’s vision, and I wouldn’t want any compromises to be made to appeal to a wider audience.

Baldur’s Gate (1 + 2)

THAC0 is WACKO

I really wasn’t into Dungeons & Dragons at all growing up. I always gravitated towards nerdy things, but something about D&D set off an alarm in my insecure little head that told me the chances of me getting shoved into a locker would increase exponentially if I started expressing interest in running campaigns with my friends. Call me a poser, but I only recently started getting into it alongside the rise in popularity it’s garnered thanks to non-gaming media like Stranger Things or the underappreciated Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves movie breaking the license out of the niche and into the mainstream.

It was truly when the hype surrounding Baldur’s Gate III reached a fever pitch that I couldn’t handle the FOMO anymore. After all, I love the Mass Effect franchise, so the prospect of going back to Bioware’s humble beginnings sounded like a treat. The word “classics” has been thrown around a lot surrounding these games, and it’s true––I can see exactly what makes them so special. As for what’s holding me back from enjoying them to their fullest? Blame it on THAC0.

You know that meme of Patrick Star’s brain short circuiting? That’s me trying to understand the THAC0 system used in Bioware’s legendary Baldur’s Gate duology. THAC0, or To Hit Armor Class 0 (Zero), is the system used in 2nd edition Advanced Dungeons & Dragons to determine the character’s chance to hit their opponent based on a dice roll. At least, that’s what several articles and YouTube tutorials have told me.

Sure, I understand that “lower number = good,” a totally counterintuitive way of indicating an increase in stats, I might add, but simple enough to comprehend nonetheless. It’s all the other systems feeding into and around THAC0 that I couldn’t be bothered to learn. Strength modifications, ability bonuses hit, Base THAC0 vs. regular THAC0, not to mention lore stats and some of the status effects that the game does such a poor job of explaining to you; maybe I’m just stupid––scratch that, I KNOW Minsc and I share the same IQ, but it shouldn’t feel like I need to take a college course just to comprehend why my party got wiped by the catacombs-dwelling boss under Athkatla, and what measures I could’ve taken to prevent it.

I get it though––these games hail from a different era in which the player’s hand wasn’t held nearly as tightly as it is today. If you don’t have prior D&D experience or consult a guide before starting a playthrough, it’s very easy to screw yourself with a dysfunctional party right from the get-go. I wasn’t even aware of the significance the dice roll at the character creator screen played in putting your best foot forward. In more modern RPGs such as Diablo III or the Bethesda Fallout games, the skills you decide to dump points into are relatively inconsequential, meaning a casual player can pretty reliably breeze through the game without putting too much thought into their build. Not the case in Baldur’s Gate! I could make it a few hours into the games without fully understanding their mechanics by relying on the character AI, but once shit hit the fan and the game required actual strategy in party composition and spellcasting, the daunting prospect of micromanaging my way through a 50+ hour game totally scared me off.

I appreciate the freedom these seminal genre classics give the player and I can see why they’re so highly regarded, but they certainly don’t appeal to my modern sensibilities. The things I enjoyed most during my short-lived playthrough were by far the writing and character interactions. In fact, that was the main driving force compelling me to keep playing in the first place. The stories of Jaheira, Hexxat, Khalid, Imoen, and most other companions were so rich and interesting, I only wish the gameplay didn’t hold me back from seeing their stories through to the end.

But there is still hope for me yet! I have since tried and greatly enjoyed other revered CRPGs, including Obsidian’s spiritual successor to the old Infinity Engine games, Pillars of Eternity, and I fully intend to play its sequel. I have Wasteland 2, Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous, Shadowrun Returns, and Tyranny installed and ready to go on Steam as well. Then there’s the Baldur’s Gate III of it all–a must-play by all accounts. I’ve dabbled in Larian Studios’ preceding masterpiece, Divinity: Original Sin II (another title on a long list of RPGs I’m itching to get back to), so I at least know what to expect to a certain degree. But a part of me is intimidated to start it, for fear of it ending up on a list like this. At the very least, I won’t have to worry about my arch nemesis THAC0.

Yakuza Kiwami

I’m sure it makes sense in context

Sega’s Yakuza/Like A Dragon series, more than any other game/franchise on this list, is the one I feel the most eager and willing to give a second chance. After hearing non-stop praise for the long-running Japanese gangster saga since its astronomical rise in Western popularity, I was hankering to check it out for myself. But in a franchise with nine mainline entries and more than a dozen spin-offs, where the hell do you begin?

Well, I’m a huge proponent of experiencing narratives for the first time the way their creators intended––in release order. I would never tell someone new to Star Wars to watch the movies in chronological order. That’s just asinine. The same way I’d never suggest starting the Metal Gear series with Snake Eater (side-eyeing Delta). So naturally, I wanted to start from the beginning, and the brand new gussied up remake of the original was right there in the form of Yakuza Kiwami. I was ready to take the plunge with Kazuma Kiryu into this epic, sprawling crime narrative that deftly weaves a dark, gritty main story with light-hearted, zany side content to balance the tone.

I think the main reason I want to give this series another shot is because my appreciation for Japanese media in general has risen so dramatically since playing it for the first time in 2018. As someone who primarily engaged with Western AAA releases (excluding the odd Nintendo game here and there), the overall approach to design of Kiwami seemed outdated by modern standards. It’s a bit jarring to go from the no-expense-spared cinematic juggernaut of God of War (2018) into a game where half the dialogue isn’t voiced and the combat mechanics leave much to be desired. Obviously, that’s not a fair comparison, but it’s the mindset I had going in, and instead of attempting to meet the game on its own terms, I tried to brute force my own idea of what I thought the game should be.

The most standout example of this being the game’s combat system, with its four distinct fighting styles. I understand this series is trying to emulate the feeling of old Sega arcade-y beat-em-ups, but it wound up feeling clunky, like I was just button mashing against dudes in suits taking 30 kicks to the face like a champ. I’m sure I’d get the hang of it if I stuck around a while longer and invested skill points into learning new moves, but I think my preconceived notions got too in the way for me to give it a fair shake.

See, as ignorant as it sounds, I really just wanted this to play like another Asian crime drama with martial arts as your main mode of whooping ass that I’m very fond of, Sleeping Dogs. Released at a time between Batman: Arkham games, that freeflow combat system was all the hotness and I was so there for it. It was simple to understand, satisfying to keep a combo going, and best of all, made you look and feel like a stone cold badass. Meanwhile, the brawler combat of Yakuza Kiwami feels like I’m fighting against the controls, and when every enemy either blocks or dodges your attacks, Kiryu looks more like a child on the playground getting picked on by the big kids rather than the legendary “Dragon of Dojima.”

I had several problems with the game beyond its combat, namely its overall presentation. It sounds like I’m just nitpicking at this point, but something about the text font in menus put me off. I think it was a combination of the small size and tight kerning of the letters that really strained my eyes. Yes, I’m aware of how stupid and minor of a complaint that is, but it was a legitimate contributing factor into why I put the game down.

Since 2018, however, I discovered my love for JRPGs, had a little honeymoon phase with them, and became much more open to different kinds of games in general. I’d like to think I’m a lot more open-minded than I ever was, and so, seeing as the Like a Dragon train ain’t slowing down anytime soon, I’m keen to return to the Kamurochō district and fight Majima as many times as it takes. Yakuza 0 seems to be the fan favorite that everyone recommends to newcomers, but Yakuza: Like a Dragon’s new protagonist and turn-based combat system also presents a tempting jumping-off point. I’d also like to check out Yakuza’s cousin series, Judgement, but now I’m getting ahead of myself.

Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus

A Colossal Disappointment

2014 was a bit of a weak year for video games, huh? Sure we were treated to some absolute bangers like Shovel Knight and Mario Kart 8, but those were few and far between. Triple A dreck like Destiny, Watch Dogs, Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor, and Assassin’s Creed Unity were far more common. It was such a bleak year in fact, that a few diamonds in the rough seemed to have slipped through the cracks of mainstream games media and wouldn’t get the attention they deserved. Gems like Divinity: Original Sin or Elite Dangerous would go wildly overlooked despite their stellar, unique quality.

But I’d argue no game got the short end of the stick like Machine Games’ 2014 shooter Wolfenstein: The New Order. I was certainly one of many who readily dismissed it as a desperate cash grab by a company capitalizing on a known IP with a generic, subpar first-person shooter. How wrong we all were! To be fair, its opening mission doesn’t do the best job demonstrating what makes it truly special, and on the surface, it indeed comes across like another run-of-the-mill Call of Duty campaign complete with bombastic explosions and gruff military guys screaming in your face.

Long story short: the game gets better–much better. I bought it in late 2016 after hearing so much positive buzz post-mortem. Before I knew it, I’d found all the collectibles and secrets, completed every mission on the hardest difficulty, and unlocked every perk when I finally popped that coveted platinum trophy. I even went and bought the standalone DLC The Old Blood and snagged the platinum in that, probably over the course of a weekend. It’s not just that the gameplay is rock solid, with guns that pack a serious punch and surprisingly well-tuned stealth mechanics; I was most impressed with the story it was able to tell, mostly through expertly crafted cinematics, showing a much more sensitive, nuanced and relatable side to this stock video game protagonist named B.J. Blazkowicz than it has any right to. On the flip side, Frau Engel was a deliciously despicable villain, as if I needed more motivation to slaughter droves of Nazis. Point is, I genuinely cared about the story and characters in a Wolfenstein game which caught me pleasantly off-guard.

So imagine my excitement when Bethesda officially reveals a sequel at their E3 2017 showcase, concluding with an October 27 release date. Wanting to go in as blind as possible, I’d refrain from watching almost all promotional material, which would be easy considering the release was only a few months away. Seeing as it coincided with the release of another game I couldn’t wait for, Super Mario Odyssey, deciding which to play first was not an easy choice (first world problems, am I right), but we gamers were absolutely feasting that day. I opted to go with Wolfenstein II first, seeing Odyssey as a particularly special treat that must be savored. 

In my first couple hours with it, everything was living up to my lofty expectations: the story starts strong, picking up approximately 5 months after the first game as B.J. Blazkowicz wakes up from a Deathshead-induced coma. The introductory level sees a critically injured Blazkowicz managing to mow down attacking Nazi forces while confined to a wheelchair–quite a bold way for a high-octane FPS to begin, and a welcome subversion of the nigh-invincible action hero trope.

Right off the bat, though, something felt off. For starters, this game is HARD, and that’s coming from someone who considers FromSoftware games their bread and butter. B.J.’s health is capped at 50, rather than the previous game’s 100, which makes sense within the context of the story, but the way enemies melt you before you know what hit you makes it rather egregious–and that’s just on the normal difficulty. I can’t imagine the struggle of playing through the game on its hardest difficulty, “Mein Leben,” a permadeath mode that also doesn’t allow the player to save their game, especially considering there’s an absurd trophy for playing through the entire game on said difficulty. So much for that platinum trophy; even a glutton for punishment like me has their limits.

Maybe if the game was as fun to play as The New Order and The Old Blood, this wouldn’t be a problem, but alas, I felt the gameplay left so much to be desired in every department. Heavy machine guns and shotguns still have a nice, weighty feel to them, but because of the absurd damage enemies inflict on you, running and gunning seems discouraged which rings totally antithetical to the core design of the game and the Wolfenstein series as a whole. Then there’s the stealth, which I adored in the previous two entries, but here, enemy AI is totally inconsistent, making it a crapshoot whether the guards will spot you from a mile away, let alone ten feet from your face. Once you are spotted by a lone guard atop a scaffolding, every Nazi in the comically oversized military compound knows your exact location and won’t stop coming until every officer is systematically taken down. This problem is only exacerbated by the game’s level design, which I thought was another huge step down from the past titles with a few notable exceptions, like the aforementioned opening for example.

Without getting into spoilers, there’s a moment about a third into the game that completely jumps the shark, taking a relatively grounded story (as grounded as a story involving a technologically advanced Nazi regime taking over the world with cartoonishly over-the-top characters can be), and going full camp, making it harder and harder to take its stakes seriously.

Suffice it to say, I dropped The New Colossus not too long after this moment, leaving a very bad taste in my mouth. Luckily, my copy of Super Mario Odyssey was right there to help wash it out. And after developing a moon-collecting addiction in that game, I never went back to see what became of B.J. Blazkowicz and his merry band of Nazi hunters, and frankly, I don’t particularly care. Machine Games subsequently released the VR-exclusive spin-off, Wolfenstein: Cyberpilot and a co-op follow-up, Wolfenstein: Youngblood, both to reception ranging from middling to downright abysmal. If they were to announce a third and final entry to wrap up their rebooted Wolfenstein trilogy, I can’t say I’d be too excited, but judging by the way their Indiana Jones game is shaping up, I’d be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.