Polygon

007 First Light is an incredibly shiny, well-polished game that truly lives up to its name. In fact, it's tough to argue against it being the best Bond game of all time. That doesn't mean it isn't flawed, however, and I spent the opening third wondering exactly when it was going to properly kick into motion. I wish it leant more into its Hitman side, with more solutions for each level, and rewarded exploration with more than just world-building, as neat as that is. As an incredibly solid foundation for a sequel, however? It's an absolute blast.

If there’s one thing that, to me, seems unchanged between Black Flag and Black Flag Resynced, it’s the ship combat. This is a good thing. In 2013, Black Flag established a standard for naval combat in games that has not been surpassed, ultimately serving as the basis for Ubisoft’s 2024 open-world pirate game Skull and Bones. (Ubisoft Singapore, the primary developer of Skull and Bones, is also the primary developer of Black Flag Resynced.) Giant frigates aren’t lumbering vessels, but rather nimble vehicles you can turn and accelerate with precision. You can fire a multitude of cannons and mortars. And all the while, your crew of ne’er-do-wells chants sea shanties. It ruled then. It rules now. [Hands-On Impressions]

The longer I played Zero Parades, the more it began to reveal itself in engrossing ways. Set the grand political theater aside, and you have a remarkably human story about Cascade. Early on, you learn that she’s haunted by a cowardly act of self-preservation and needs this assignment to redeem herself — especially because she’s going to need the help of her old crewmates to pull it off. It’s less of a spy thriller and more akin to someone returning to their hometown and dealing with the mess they left behind.

My instinct is to say that I hope to see these ideas fully realized in a more traditional Yoshi game, but I’m not sure if that would be the right solution. Turn Yoshi and the Mysterious Book into a proper platformer where you need to use creatures’ powers to solve your way through levels, and you basically have a Kirby game. What makes this unique is how contained it is, even if that’s what holds it back too. It’s as if you’ve been tossed into the whimsical playtesting lab Nintendo uses to poke and prod at every creature it designs for a new game — more of an extension of Super Mario Maker’s creative freedom than Super Mario Bros. Wonder’s meticulously designed platforming. If anything, a sequel could stand to drop the level-based structure entirely in favor of a true sandbox full of critters to be experimented on. The idea never fully hatches, but I can appreciate the playful concept it’s flutter-jumping towards with great effort. It doesn’t capture that timeless joy of experiencing World 1-1 for the first time, but it at least helps you understand how Nintendo engineers those magical moments.

Inkonbini has helped me find peace in this tiny convenience store, where the lights sometimes flicker and I have to whack a fridge to get it working again. I’ve also helped others find their inner peace and purpose, and did that in just a week’s worth of shifts. Inkonbini is perfect for a weekend afternoon when all you want to do is cozy up on the couch and relax.

It’s Subnautica, but better. Subnautica 2's initial early access launch reminds me of what Obsidian did with Grounded 2, recreating a more polished version of what worked the first time. That's not a bad thing! I've spent 20 hours with Subnautica 2 and still want to keep playing. It's just hard to see what makes this a sequel yet. [Early Access Review]

At this stage in Forza Horizon's life, it's justifiable to ask how much longer it can follow the smooth grooves of its long-perfected formula without settling into a suffocating routine. But it's also easy to take for granted what these games do so well beneath all those noisy layers of activity: They realize the romance and freedom of the open road. Unspooling their miles of tarmac through majestic scenery is a pure, undirected, unfettered joy. Horizon 6 is as good at that as any of its predecessors. Arguably, it's better.

These small inconsistencies mean Directive 8020 doesn't hit all of its marks. In terms of the setting and plot, along with some late-game story beats, this is arguably the most interesting Dark Pictures game yet. Mechanically, with the stealth sections, it's also the most ambitious. However, in both areas, it also feels like untapped potential — a missed opportunity for the series to prove it's more than just a B-movie in video game form.

That's the beauty of Amberspire. It's less of an obsessive time sink and more like a traditional board game. You don't want to pull out Monopoly on the weekend, play it for hours every night, and then do it again next weekend. You dabble with it every now and again, appreciate what it's there for and what its limitations are, and move on to something else. Maybe it wasn't Lunar Division's intent, but Amberspire lives up to its initial premise quite well: Nothing lasts forever, nor should it.

I struggle to pin down Mixtape’s true identity. It’s an ‘80s comedy with ‘90s attitude where the teens often talk like it’s the 2020s. (“Sauce?” In the mid-’90s?) Its ending still lands the gut punch, but I wonder if that has less to do with the game and more to do with a final run of classic alt anthems that simply cannot fail.