All Ghillied Up was my first glimpse of it in action, as two camouflaged snipers worked their way through an irradiated Pripyat in Ukraine. The highlight – not just of the demo but arguably of the entire game – was watching, breath held, as an entire armoured patrol trundled past, inches from our hiding spot, and it’s a moment of tension that’s never been matched in a shooter since.
However, where Metal Gear Solid was truly groundbreaking was its emphasis on narrative and cinematic presentation. Hideo Kojima's love of Hollywood action movies was readily apparent through slick cutscenes, and Yoji Shinkawa's character and mechanical designs added a heavy dose of anime sensibility, and the whole experience sounded amazing thanks to the musical contributions of Harry Gregson Williams and a stellar voice cast including Cam Clarke, Jennifer Hale, and *OF COURSE* David Hayter. Metal Gear Solid looked like a movie, sounded like a movie, and felt like a movie, but still played like a video game, striking a delicate balance that the medium is still striving for over twenty years later.
A sprawling Western that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Grand Theft Auto V as one of gaming’s greatest open-world achievements, Red Dead Redemption 2 is a game of rare scope and even rarer quality. A beautiful ode to an ugly era, RDR2 combines Rockstar’s most authentic and lived-in open world ever with its most earnest storytelling to date, filling in the gaps with an astonishing array of deep systems and nearly endless emergent gameplay opportunities. Its slower pace allows us to binge on the world like a virtual museum but, when the lead starts flying, it puts the wild back in the west (and then some). Few games manage the level of uncompromising detail as Red Dead Redemption 2 does. Do we need to discuss the horse balls again?
As Microsoft Flight Simulator to the flight sim genre, so Polyphony Digital's Gran Turismo series to hi-fi motorsport hot-rodding. Of all the Gran Turismo games, 2001's Gran Turismo 3: A-Spec for the PlayStation 2 remains the series' apotheosis, a madly ambitious encyclopedia of lovingly modeled vehicles and vistas surpassing the wildest gear nut fantasies. Here was a racing game to rule all others, that on its surface promised endless championship events framed by thrillingly realistic physics and painstakingly replicated visuals, but that also catered to armchair grease monkeys, who might spend hours fine-tuning then gawking at their drop-dead gorgeous rides.
We were justified in doing so. Rock Band literally invented a new form of multiplayer – one that was not only cooperative, but also one where four of you could share a physical energy in the room. It remains a feeling that no game has replicated, and the very act of learning the "language" of the game – teaching your hands to work the guitar neck, or your hands and feet to work in concert to "play" the drums – was a game in and of itself. Even once you learned that language, moving up the ranks, from Easy to Expert, was an adventure with a tangible payoff: you could see and feel the results. And dominating a classic song you and your friends all know and love as a four-player "band" playing on the highest difficulty made memories that last long after the console turned off.
Where Doom first popularized the first-person shooter, 1996's Quake shifted the genre to a more spatially plausible, performance-hungry 3D world. The single-player campaign, which again pits players against the forces of evil (though with a Lovecraftian twist) is perfectly fine. But Quake's real contribution was in blowing the lid off multiplayer combat. Thanks in part to speedier Internet connections, Quake players—who formed "clans" of like-minded ballistic tacticians—could find deathmatch opponents over the web. And the game's new fully polygonal engine allowed for techniques now a staple of the genre, like bunny-hopping (constant jumping to avoid enemy fire) and rocket-jumping (using a rocket launcher to propel yourself to advantageous positions).
History buff Sid Meier had played and admired both Maxis’s SimCity and Bullfrog’s Populous when he set out to design something grander that intermingled warfare, exploration, diplomacy, city-building and elements of political philosophy. 1991’s Civilization launched a series of widely played, deeply loved turn-based strategy epics in which players lead a society from the stone age far into the distant future. Civilization IV, released in 2005, was the apotheosis of the series, and universally acclaimed for its many innovations—from its 3D graphics to its much-improved artificial intelligence. It's arguably the greatest strategy game ever made, and remains a reference design for developers today.
An RPG with enough complexity to satisfy the urge to tinker, but enough character never to feel impersonal, Wild Hunt is a staggering achievement no matter how you look at it. Its story deftly balances cosmic threat and family drama, its choices feel truly meaningful and world-changingly effective, and it looks gorgeous in its own grubby way. Even its two DLC expansions are among the best ever released. Geralt’s final journey might be built on the mundane, but that makes it nothing short of magical.
You fail to mention how incredible Lordran is – a single continuous location that spirals from lava-flooded ruins to a glistening city of the gods. A place where new paths often lead back to familiar locations, so that exploring it for the first time feels like solving a puzzle. You overlook its precise, nuanced combat or the fact it has the most interesting and meaningful bosses of any game. And you certainly never get round to discussing its story, which revels in ambiguity and invites interpretation like no other.
Furthermore, and perhaps even more importantly, Halo 2 was the killer app for Xbox Live. It brought the party system and matchmaking hopper concept to consoles, instantly making every other online console game look archaic in its infrastructure by comparison. Of course, it helped that the multiplayer gameplay was, well, legendary. The maps were almost all memorably brilliant, the match options were vast, and the ranking system kept you fighting night after night to try and move up. Halo 2 remains the gold standard for console first-person shooter multiplayer, despite the fact that it's been 15 years since its release.
Pushing the limits of the NES's 8-bit architecture, 1987's Castlevania was a monster of a game, with stirring graphics, sophisticated physics (for such an early platformer) and unforgettable music that perfectly matched the title's creepy feel. While nowhere as frightening as the yet-to-surface survival horror genre, it offered an experience in stark contrast to Nintendo's whimsical Super Mario games. Exploring Dracula's castle as vampire hunter Simon Belmont, players ran into some pretty haggard stuff. Bloodstained gates greet players off the bat, holy water and crosses were throwing weapons, and, oh yeah, you have to beat Death—and that's not even the final boss.
This action-adventure game published by Electronic Arts came out for Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One in November 2019. The game takes place in the universe of Star Wars, following Jedi Padawan as he tries to complete his Jedi training and restore the Jedi Order — while action ensues. Fallen Order was the fastest-selling digital launch for any Star Wars game in its first two weeks on the market.
It’s right there in the name: Super Smash Bros. Ultimate is quite simply the ultimate Smash Bros. game. Purists will no doubt claim that SSB: Melee is the game that put the series on the map, but it’s impossible to ignore the sheer wealth of content that is present in Ultimate, from the insane roster size of 70+ characters that is still growing, to the enormous World of Light story mode, to the library of over 800 classic video game songs jam-packed within its cartridge.