Rise of Skywalker is worse than the prequels

I wish this title was hyperbole. After the resounding success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and coming out of The Force Awakens with such high hopes for the franchise, I never could have imagined that by the time I got to the end of the Disney Star Wars trilogy, I'd be so disgusted with it that it actually gave me newfound appreciation for the prequels, but here we are folks. Rise of Skywalker is a cinematic dumpster fire; a train wreck of monumental proportions. It's a film that leaves a stench so pungent in its aftermath that its lingering fumes retroactively ruin the rest of the trilogy and force me to retcon it from my head-canon.

I had my issues with the previous film, and while its execution was problematic in many ways, I still think up until that point it was salvageable; even enjoyable to watch for a good chunk of it. But after seeing this, I don't think I've ever walked out of the cinema so frustrated and angry at a singular movie in my entire life. Star Wars is a franchise I grew up with and has been hugely influential to me throughout my life. To see it reduced to something so insulting and fundamentally broken that it makes any further sequels difficult to even take seriously, it just enrages me to my core.

I find myself relating to the rest of the Star Wars fanbase now, yet simultaneously alienated from it, as on the one hand I now feel the rage that they felt toward Episode VIII, but at the same time, there is apparently a sizeable portion of audiences that actually see this film as "fixing" the problems of The Last Jedi, which is a position I simply cannot comprehend. This is a film that fails on almost every level; attempting to fix a bunch of non-problems of The Last Jedi while creating dozens of new problems of its own.

It's hard to even know where to start because there were so many things crammed into this film and so much of it didn't work; there's no clear entry point to begin. So instead, let's skip talking specifics first and just talk about Rise of Skywalker's broader structural issue.

One reason The Martian was one of the greatest sci-fi films of the last decade was because of the sense of tension it created with its main character, Mark Watney. You find yourself wondering how the hell Mark's going to get off Mars and return home given his precarious situation, as his team unknowingly left him behind on the red planet, he doesn't have nearly enough supplies to survive for long, and help won't be on the way for years to come. That's assuming he can even make contact to let anyone know that he's still alive and stranded there in the first place. As far as his crew knows, he's already dead. There are layers on top of layers in obstacles Mark has to contend with, but the reason all of these narrative elements come together to create such an effective sense of tension is because the story strictly adheres to a set of rules; those rules in this case being the laws of physics.

The Martian is a meticulously realistic and grounded film, but it's not even the realism that makes it good. More important than that is that it sticks to its own established rules from beginning to end so that the suspension of disbelief is never broken. Mark never just acquires super powers from radioactive exposure and flies back to earth unharmed; he doesn't suddenly receive a fully-fueled and operational rocket without explanation despite that it was never previously established that such equipment was just lying around. The fact that the film so relentlessly adheres to its own established rules is what allows for Mark's situation to naturally build a sense of tension and to feel the consequences of any misstep, because you know Mark is not going to get an easy out when things go wrong.

Now Star Wars may not be as strictly concerned about scientific accuracy as The Martian is, but it still has its own code that it abides by. Much of the excitement of Return of the Jedi's iconic throne room scene comes from knowing that Luke Skywalker may be a Jedi Master now, but even he doesn't have the strength to defeat the emperor and Darth Vader on his own. Whatever happens during this fight, there's no extra life or sudden power-up that's going to bail him out. There are of course other dynamics going on in this scene that lend to its suspense, like the inner struggle of Darth Vader and whether he has truly given up on the light side--and by extension his own son--but at the core holding it all together, there are grounded stakes set by the rules of the Star Wars universe, which naturally lead into an interesting situation here. Luke can't fight this battle alone, so the only real chance he has to survive in this scene is to convince his father to side with him because he can't just win with crazy cool force powers.

You can feel the desperation and anger in Luke when he lashes out at Vader after being threatened to have his sister turned to the dark side. You see him flung to the floor defenseless and in pain when the emperor electrocutes him. He has real weakness and vulnerability, and by showing it on full display during this scene, it effectively establishes the stakes. The power imbalance between Luke and the emperor is clearly defined and consistent. Luke is powerful but nonetheless still very limited in his capability, and it is through this struggle against uneven odds that we are able to get invested in the story.

Contrast this with The Rise of Skywalker, which seemingly decides to ignore its own rules at every turn. The emperor died in Return of the Jedi? Nah, he's back. Don't ask us how he's back. He just is. Chewbacca dies? Nah, just kidding. C3PO's memory is wiped? Nah, just kidding. Force ghosts can wield lightsabers now? Why doesn't Luke just appear in front of Palpatine and stab him with a lightsaber then? What's he gonna do? Kill Luke's ghost? Is that even possible? Where did the manpower and resources come from to build such a massive fleet of star destroyers? Attack of the Clones spent the entire film building up the mystery behind the clone army and where it came from; fully explaining how it ends up in the Republic's hands. In Episode IX though, there's just a huge fleet. It's just there. But where the hell did it come from?! You can't have that big of a game-changer just show up in the final film and expect the audience to accept it without any explanation. If light speed skipping is so dangerous and skillful to pull off, then why is an entire squad of TIE fighters able to follow Poe's jumps right along with him? Why does the emperor ask Kylo to kill Rey if he actually wants her brought back to him alive?

WHY DID THEY--*Ahem*

The film opens with Kylo Ren on the hunt for Palpatine after it is revealed right in the opening title crawl that the emperor is still alive. I suppose given that all the promotional material for Episode IX pretty much spoiled this plot point already, it's not the worst offense, but it still makes for an incredibly anti-climactic reveal considering how significant this character is to Star Wars lore. Nonetheless, there remains a mystery to solve surrounding the emperor's return, so surely they were saving that in the cards for a big reveal to build up to, right? Nope. In the ultimate cop out, Disney just regurgitates a vague line from the prequel trilogy about how the dark side of the force is a pathway to many abilities some would consider to be unnatural, and that is quite literally the full extent of their explanation for the emperor's return.

How do you have such an integral character with decades of influence in pop culture just nonchalantly show up again with such a casual dismissal of well-established lore? He was clearly seen tossed down a long pit followed by an explosion, and then shortly afterward the entire death star itself was destroyed; presumably with the emperor's mangled corpse still on it. And given that it's been nearly half a century without anything in Star Wars canon implying that the emperor survived after this moment, surely it would warrant at least some buildup or big revelation to properly justify his disappearance for so long. But apparently not. There was more justification and effort put into Luke's jaded characterization in The Last Jedi than there was for Palpatine's return in this film.

Mind you, this revelation is also quickly info-dumped alongside other revelations that should be considered shocking but aren't, like the fact that Snoke was just some kind of mass-produced creation from Palpatine, and that it was really his voice inside Ben's head all along, but all of this is so quickly dispensed with in throwaway dialogue with no buildup that it lands completely flat. With so little attention given to it, it's practically pointless now to even bother with Snoke. Who cares where he comes from now?

These lines felt like rushed attempts to give Palpatine greater agency and significance in the new trilogy's overall plot. It's obvious that none of this was actually planned all that well and they just shoehorned him in at the last minute because they no longer had Snoke to fill his role. Considering how botched Palpatine's introduction is, this results in not only damaging the new trilogy's narrative, but even the original trilogy to a certain extent, as it devalues the struggle and sacrifices made by Luke and Anakin in the final battle of Endor. They never truly defeated the empire or Palpatine; only caused him to go into hiding for a while.

Things get really messy when we start examining the MacGuffin plot too. A huge chunk of this movie centers around the characters chasing not one, not two, but three MacGuffins. Now generally when it comes to writing, MacGuffins aren't necessarily a bad thing. They can be a useful tool to get your characters to go on an adventure when they otherwise don't have a good reason to. But a MacGuffin by itself is usually arbitrary, and the real purpose of employing one is to get your characters thrown into more interesting situations along the way. In other words, it's about the journey, not the destination. Yet in Rise of Skywalker, not one of these MacGuffins ever actually leads to an interesting character interaction or worthwhile payoff in the story. It quite literally is just an arbitrary goal to fill the screen time. None of the characters learn anything or grow from the experience.

For instance, the hunt for the ancient Sith dagger caused Rey to get swept up in a confrontation with Kylo that ultimately led her to accidentally destroying a transport ship with Chewie allegedly onboard. This could have been an interesting plot point that causes Rey to doubt herself and reflect on her Jedi training. Maybe Luke was right and it was a mistake to train her; maybe she doesn't have as much control over the force as she thought; maybe she is a danger to her friends and it would be best to part ways or abandon her Jedi teachings. I don't know, just some kind of self-reflection or contemplation on her actions could have added some dramatic weight to the film. But instead, we find out just minutes later that Chewie is still alive, and none of it really matters anyway. Rey is unshaken and the show goes on.

The writers are so lacking in originality that even the next MacGuffin recycles the same trick. Now that they have the dagger, the ancient Sith language inscribed on it needs to be deciphered by a protocol droid, but C3PO is unwilling to do it as part of his programming, so they have to find a hacker on planet Kijimi who will force C3PO to translate it. The real bombshell comes in when we learn that in order to reprogram C3PO to read it, his memory will have to be wiped, effectively "killing" C3PO as we know him. Putting aside how convoluted and pointless this whole plot setup is, this all leads up to what should have been an emotional self-sacrifice scene where C3PO says good bye to all his friends, except since 3PO was barely in the previous two films and has had virtually no meaningful interactions up until this point, the scene largely falls flat, and the cherry on top of it all is of course that he doesn't even lose his memory anyway, because R2D2 ends up restoring it; once again pulling another fake out with a character's death.

So what do we get out of the secret information extracted from the Sith dagger? Another god damn MacGuffin! Why do we even need so many MacGuffins? So far we are now at least a third of the way through the film, and absolutely nothing of substance or consequence has happened as a result of chasing all these MacGuffins. What has Rey learned? How has Finn grown? What has Poe done? So much time wasted, and still all the film has to offer is more MacGuffins.

Now we're off to the moon of Endor, where apparently by standing in some totally random spot and holding up the dagger in just the right way, it reveals the location of the "wayfinder", our latest plot gimmick and final MacGuffin. At this point, there are multiple layers of absurdity at play here, even putting aside how unlikely it is to stumble into exactly the right spot for the Sith dagger to reveal its secrets. Like, why would the Sith build a device that is just supposed to point to another device that points to the actual location of significance? Are they afraid the wayfinder would somehow get misplaced so they need a proverbial "Find my iPhone" feature to locate it? But even if that were the case, why make our "Find my Wayfinder" tool something as primitive as a dagger where the relevant information stored on it is static so it can't be updated? What if the wayfinder moves locations? Then the Sith dagger is suddenly worth jack shit. They could have just slapped the information on an encrypted Sith holocron where it could be stored digitally on a commonly-manufactured device and updated if needed.

After all, it's not like it makes sense to leave the wayfinder in some abandoned and unguarded death star wreckage if it's supposedly so important in maintaining the secrecy of the Sith homeworld, which now that I mention it, raises another question about this whole plot setup. In order to inscribe the coordinates of the wayfinder onto the dagger, that means this dagger had to be manufactured after the death star had already crashed on the moon of Endor, so the Sith already knew that this wayfinder was sitting unguarded in the wreckage when they were making this dagger. Why wouldn't you retrieve it first and place it in a more secure vault that hasn't been destroyed already before you go and start crafting a special dagger specifically for pointing out the coordinates to the wayfinder?

In fact, why isn't the wayfinder itself also just a Sith holocron? It's just star map data, but apparently it's such super special star map data that it needs to be given its own special name. Guys, this is like the real-world equivalent of calling your GPS a "roadmapper" even though functionally it works identically to any other GPS and there's no real reason to give it such a specific name; you're just calling it that to make it feel more special than it actually is. We already have a name for GPS. It's called GPS. And we already have a portable storage medium for digital information. It's called a flash drive. Likewise for the Star Wars universe, we already have star maps and holocrons, so why invent this new device with such a limited purpose and functionality? It's NONSENSE. All of this nonsense.

The real point here is that more than likely Chris Terrio, the hack writer behind this film, doesn't even know what a holocron is because he's not actually very knowledgeable about Star Wars lore, and probably doesn't care either, which is why he should have never been allowed anywhere near this film in the first place.

Like so many other things in this film, Rey's revelation of her Palpatine lineage similarly falls flat and laughably retcons a key plot point from The Last Jedi. Instead of just accepting Rey's "nobody" heritage and moving on like they should have, Chris and JJ bend over backwards for the fans to insist that Rey has some important bloodline.

Here's the thing about big twists like this though: the reason why Vader's reveal was so effective in Empire Strikes Back was because of how it impacted the emotional dynamics of the characters. Luke thought he was pretty much fighting the embodiment of pure evil up until this point. How could he possibly have any relation to such a horrible person? He was forced to reevaluate his entire worldview and had a mental meltdown where he was screaming that this had to be impossible. It was a massive turning point for the trilogy and made the relationship between Vader and Luke so much more interesting going forward because it became about Luke trying to redeem his father instead of just trying to strike him down because he's an evil bad person.

For Episode IX on the other hand, how does this revelation impact Rey's character? Does she suddenly have a change of heart about Palpatine? Does she think he can now be redeemed? Does she have any kind of introspection about her place in the universe? No. Her conclusion is still the same as it was before this discovery. Ole Palpy is still an evil bad person and evil bad people must be defeated.

The constant need for this trilogy to make it a big plot point out of what everyone's lineage is has become such a recursive cliche that it's bordering on parody of itself now. It's not enough to reveal that Ben is the son of Han Solo, but we also have to subvert the cliche by making it a big deal that Rey is related to nobody, but oh just kidding! We're gonna subvert the subversion because she's actually related to the emperor after all! It's just so redundant at this point that it's absurd. So-and-so important person always has to be related to some other important person instead of just being important and interesting on their own merits.

And in the end what does the story gain from this narrative jump-roping? Nothing. Rey's goals are still the same, now with just an added plot hole that her parents were actually really nice caring people even though Ben already stated previously that they were junk traders that sold her for drinking money.

Don't get me started on the final confrontation with Palpatine. Not only does he initially order Kylo to kill Rey even though he doesn't actually want her killed, but when he does have Rey brought to him, he orders Rey to strike him down. This supposedly would allow his soul to possess Rey's body as part of some Sith ritual. Seems straightforward enough, except Rey initially refuses, and then over the course of a bunch of explosions and fighting thereafter, the film seems to forget this whole plot point and Rey ends up killing Palpatine anyway. But it doesn't result in her being possessed! She just wins! And mind you, all the stuff that happens in between this is just as nonsensical! Like when Palpatine suddenly acquires force lightning so powerful that he can wipe out large swaths of the resistance fleet with it. He also makes some blurb about possessing all the power of the sith within him, and likewise Rey retorts that she has all the power of the Jedi within her, even though at no point in the plot was it ever established that these two were somehow storing thousands of force users' strength within them. It was an ocean of deus ex machinas; completely deflating any sense of tension whatsoever since the characters' power levels and motivations could change on a whim at any given moment.

I point all this out because they aren't just nitpicks. Consistency matters. Again, it's not just about the arbitrary fact that force ghosts can't interact with the physical world, or Palpatine can't shoot lightning that wipes out entire fleets. It needs to feel consistent so that the viewer can feel properly grounded in a believable universe, where consequences feel real because you know and understand that when something goes wrong, the rules aren't suddenly going to change out of convenience to undo it. Now the Star Wars universe is so incomprehensible and the rules are so completely broken that it's just hard to even take seriously or get invested in anymore. As long as any sequel makes references back to the events of this trilogy, I will be forced to somehow try and reconcile it with my own version of Star Wars canon, which makes this infinitely infuriating because it's impossible to do. None of it makes any sense, and even if it did; even if someone could explain away every plot hole in this film, we would still be left with a wholly underwhelming plot written at the caliber of a video game side quest where there is no meaningful or interesting character interactions whatsoever. Just fetch the thingy so you can go find the other thingy so you can kill the big bad final boss. That's literally the fucking story here.

I haven't even gotten into how Rey's healing ability is ill-defined and introduced out of left field, or that Lando's cameo is just wasted fanservice because he barely has any screentime and doesn't add any emotional weight to the film, or that the Knights of Ren still aren't really given a backstory and just kind of show up at random times to have cool fight scenes, or that new characters like Zorii Bliss and Jannah are also introduced with almost no screentime or relevance in the plot and could have been easily written out without any impact to the story. I could talk about how Kylo Ren just shows up out of nowhere in the death star wreckage to fight Rey even though we never saw or heard his ship approach. In fact, it feels like there are numerous missing establishing shots needed to properly set up scenes. No scene in this film ever lingers long enough to build an atmosphere or to allow the audience to fully appreciate the moment.

Also fucking space horses. Seriously, this film is a mess. There is so much wrong with it that I have to summarize half of these issues in one sentence apiece just so I can move on.

The worst thing the prequels did was ruin the mythos of Vader by making me only see Anakin's angsty teenage face behind the mask, but for all their issues with wooden acting, lackluster cartoon-level dialogue, boring plotting, excessive green screen sets, and so on, there is at least a certain coherence and consistency to them. After watching them all I can feel like I saw a complete vision that expanded the lore and fleshed out the universe, so even if I didn't like them, they didn't fundamentally break the lore in a way that I can't make sense of in my head. The Star Wars galaxy still felt like a believable place. But Episode IX had so much broken logic and insulting writing that suspension of disbelief was just totally gone for me.

I honestly don't know how this franchise can recover from the damage caused by this film short of retconning the entire sequel trilogy. Further sequels would either have to be careful not to acknowledge any events from this period of history, or just avoided altogether in favor of focusing on more prequel content like the Old Republic era; none of which I think are propositions that Disney is willing to commit to indefinitely. So Star Wars is just fucked. And it's all thanks to this movie. That's why it's easily the worst Star Wars film, and I'd rather watch the prequels. Any prequel. Whatever it takes to wipe the smell of this cinematic wet fart from my memory.

FF7 Remake was a mistake

I didn't say it! Miyazaki did! Don't shoot the messenger.

It is ironic sometimes how life experience can end up drastically altering your perspective. Growing up, FF7 was a special game to me. It was full of memorable moments and characters that will stick with me for the rest of my life. When I first got wind of a possible FF7 remake with the reveal of the Playstation 3 tech demo, I was pretty ecstatic at the prospect of how epic it could be. Being able to go back and experience that world once more in glorious HD and take in every moment again with exquisite detail seems like it would be a dream come true. At least, it seems that way as I envisioned it in my head.

Time marched on however, and Square quickly quashed any rumors of an impending remake. The industry grew and changed; big AAA companies consolidated and homogenized. Taking risks in reviving old dead genres or trailblazing new ones were increasingly unattractive prospects to companies like Square. Trends need to be chased. Gameplay has to be "market-tested" with focus groups. We apparently even have to have an "ethics department" oversee things to make sure nobody is too offended by the material. What was once an industry I thought was driven purely by passion and fun as a kid had transformed into something else. And so, when it seemed as if all hope was lost and the long-rumored FF7 Remake had reached mythical Half-Life 3 status, suddenly at E3 2015 we were given the big announcement.

And once again, I was clamoring to my computer screen; frantically punching the letters into the YouTube search bar to find the trailer. It was like I was a kid all over again. And for a brief moment, I was excited again. The FF7 Remake is back in business, and now with even more advances in technology since then, they can go even further! The trailers certainly looked nice. Midgar never looked sharper. So why the ominous blog title?

Mostly for click-bait Well, it turns out I really do have some major conflicting feelings about this remake, so if you came to watch an old weeaboomer self-destruct over a video game, you won't be disappointed. Or maybe you will be and that's exactly why you clicked. Because you secretly enjoy watching the train crash, don't you? Sicko.

My first red flag went up as soon as I heard the characters actually speak. It only occurred to me after this that I never really thought out all the details that would be involved in producing a remake. See, as many may know, the original FF7 was an entirely text-based story. This caused many aspects to be left up to the imagination, and you could fill in your own blanks about what characters were supposed to sound like or how they should deliver a certain line of dialogue. Barret's dialogue in particular had its own special charm to it due to the fact that his more "colorful" language was hilariously censored with randomized symbols. In some ways it fundamentally creates a different atmosphere from voiced dialogue; it makes the game feel more like an interactive book rather than an interactive movie, which has its own unique appeals.

This realization unfortunately cascaded into many other uncomfortable thoughts for me. There was so much room for error in how Square could screw things up. Unnecessary changes to character designs, personalities, plot points, and so on that completely miss or undermine certain aspects of the original game. There is a lot that could go wrong.

Still, I've never been a big purist when it comes to source material, but even I have my sacred cows, and when it comes to messing with a masterpiece, you better come with good reasons any time you're going to make big changes to it. Nonetheless, switching to voiced dialogue is something I could manage to stomach; provided that it was done well. The problem was of course that it didn't sound right, which is why it immediately stuck out to me and flooded my mind with this rapid-fire chain of negative thoughts. These casting choices felt stiff and generic; serviceable for an average video game perhaps, but FF7 isn't your average game.

As I see it, there are three key ingredients to FF7, which are crucial in order to capture the essence of the original. Paramount among them is its soundtrack, which creates such a distinctive mood and atmosphere throughout the game that permeates every emotion you feel along the way. Second is its story, which is not merely about your generic band of quirky anime heroes, but characters that actually carry deep scars with relatable themes at a much more personal level. It has some dramatic, hard-hitting emotional moments, but also boasts a surprising amount of humor along the way, despite the often dire stakes involved. And lastly is its flashy customizable combat system, which shows off impressive spectacles with its summons and limit break attacks. Based on these initial trailers, it seemed like Square was only getting bits and pieces of these three elements kind of right, and even that came with big caveats.

So given that this isn't just your typical throwaway video game story that only exists to set up arbitrary goals in the gameplay, getting quality voice acting is important if you want those dramatic moments to land. After seeing these early trailers though, I was not reassured. Luckily, now that there has been more material released in the months leading up to launch, I've felt more relieved. I'm not sure if it's just something about the way the trailers were cut together and edited, but seeing the dialogue in full context with proper timing in the actual demo of the game, the characters sounded a lot better, and in fact I'm happy to report that Barret sounds almost exactly as I would have imagined him to.

But that's only a glimpse at the beginning of the game, and there are still more problems of concern. The fully re-orchestrated soundtrack faithfully recreates many of the game's iconic themes to a degree, but I feel it comes at a high cost. On one level, it can often sound more cinematic and feel more like there is an epic scope to the story, but FF7 was a game that juggled both big and small moments, and the constantly sweeping orchestra can kind of miss out on capturing that range. Not only that, but the reuse of the same orchestral instruments for every track has resulted in a more homogenized, less diverse soundtrack, and the use of strings and horns to cover the bulk of melodies makes many of the tracks sound too soft or clean compared to the original; lacking the grit and impact. Consequently, this causes them to feel a little flat and less memorable, despite otherwise being serviceable in their own right.

Just take this comparison of the "Mako Reactor" theme for example.

Here is the original:

And here is the remake:

There's just so much more of a sense of grunge and dirtiness to the original; you can feel the industrial vibes of navigating a mako reactor. The remake on the other hand may faithfully recapture the sense of ominousness, but misses out on these other characteristics that make each track feel distinct. These might sound like nitpicks to someone who's never played the original, but FF7's soundtrack is such an incredibly iconic and important element; the atmosphere that it creates adds so much to the impact of every scene in the game. On some level, it may be impossible to fully do it justice simply by its nature and how the synthesized timbres are a product of their time. Still, I think the re-orchestration could have gone a long way to bridge that gap by making more of an effort to rely on at least some synthesized sounds rather than almost exclusively working with a live orchestra. As a result, newcomers playing this version of Final Fantasy VII really are missing out on some unforgettable tunes, even if the melodies are often the same in certain respects.

And then there's the character redesigns. Now look, I'm not going to #BoobGate over Tifa or anything. Frankly, her bust size was always in flux anyway, as the cutscenes featured ginormous watermelons while her battle tits were more believably big and her chibi knockers were just average, so her canon coconut capacity was always up for interpretation. And now that I've run out of synonyms for boobies, my main objection is that the new additions just feel over-designed, so they end up taking away from the simplicity and iconicness of her original look. I don't think it is an unreasonable ask to simply not fix what isn't broken about a classic character design. And given that a much more faithful modernization of Tifa was already done for Dissidia NT in the same year that FF7R was announced, I don't understand why they couldn't just stick with that. Same deal with Barret's sunglasses. It's dark and smoggy in Midgar; what are you shielding your eyes from? These are silly, unnecessary additions.

Aeris too would have an unrecognizable face if it weren't for the fact that her outfit was at least mercifully left alone. Her original concept art and in-game models actually had more of a mature look to them, which created an interesting juxtaposition with her playful personality. It helped add to the sense that she was actually wise beyond her years and could look after herself. She had been evading the Turks on her own for quite some time before Cloud came along after all, and she is canonically supposed to be older than Tifa by a couple years, yet she looks younger now. But who cares. We gotta dial up the waifu for the new kids.

Well I care. Imagine if for 20 years you've known Mario to look a certain way and all of the sudden some smug dude approaches you and says, "Nuh-uh, this is the new canon," and he proceeds to show a picture of Mario in his classic plumber outfit, but now there's some extra belts and straps strung here and there, his big white gloves have been shrunk, he's wearing a pair of sunglasses for no reason, and fuck it, he shaved his mustache and decided to grow a beard too. Sure he's still got the red and blue color scheme with the classic Mario cap, but now it's a cluttered clusterfuck and it's just not the Mario I know and love. And oh by the way, his name was a mistranslation; it was actually "Marioth" all along. You will now address him as such.

Mmmk. Fine. It's just a video game anyway. I guess. It is what it--NO. NOOOOOOO!

We've made too many compromises already; too many retreats. They invade our space, and we fall back; assimilate entire worlds, and fall back. Not again. The line must be drawn HERE.

OK, I'm just taking a Star Trek quote out of context now. Anyway, point is, these are the problems you run into when you decide to dig up a beloved 20-year-old game and tinker with it like you're George Lucas.

But alright, I can even learn to deal with the unnecessary tinkering of the character designs. Honestly, they're not as drastically overdone as our friend Marioth, even if still a downgrade. So long as all the important story beats are still intact, that's what really counts, right?

Hooo boy.

[WARNING: Minor spoilers for the beginning of FF7 and its remake ahead.]

But unfortunately the tinkering couldn't stop there. It's just minutes after the opening bombing mission when Nomura already couldn't resist splooging Sephiroth fanservice all over the screen. And it couldn't just be once or twice, or even isolated to brand new sequences that don't interrupt the original story beats.

In one of the worst offenses, Nomura takes what should have been a short, simple, and cute moment shared between Cloud and Aeris as they meet for the first time, and instead dials up the animu to 11 with Sephiroth hallucinations sending Cloud into a mental breakdown while some random Harry Potter dementors are swirling around Aeris all at the same time. Like, what the fuck is even happening? This is just supposed to be a cute little scene where Cloud is some passerby that bumps into Aeris and she hands him a flower for 1 gil. It was a nice moment precisely because of how mundane the exchange was. It was sort of a chance meeting between two people that had no idea later on they would meet again and become entwined in a much grander journey together. Sure, FF7 was always a crazy fantasy story full of animu bullshit, but I also think part of what made it stand out and keep the characters relatable was because it could have these smaller grounded moments too. By cluttering this scene up with so much incomprehensible bloat, it's actually taking away from it.

And then there's other scenes that have been oddly truncated, like when Cloud escapes Shinra by jumping on top of a train that also happens to be the same train the rest of Avalanche escaped on. In the remake, the conversation that Barret has with the rest of the team is very brief and uneventful before Cloud comes bursting in to let them know that he made it out alive, but in the original this was actually a longer sequence where everyone was really worried that Cloud might not have escaped. Barret was trying his hardest to act like he didn't care, but you could tell he was really getting torn up inside because he was constantly slamming the box next to him and having a very short temper with everyone that he normally only reserves for Cloud. It was a funny passive-aggressive way of showing that Barret really did care for Cloud despite all the animosity between them, but this whole sequence is lost in the remake, and for no discernible reason.

They even cut the part where Cloud and Jessie were the last to hop off the railcar and she wipes the smudge off of Cloud's face. I thought this remake was supposed to be all about selling Jessie hard as the new waifu on the block; I don't get it.

And this is only the tip of the iceberg concerning the story. There are numerous other changes that are problematic for different reasons, like how Reno's introduction just comes off as another generic cackling bad guy to defeat, whereas the Turks originally were more professional and subdued, yet goofy with a deadpan sense of humor. The comedic delivery of Reno stepping over the flowers in the church is totally lost on the remake.

Finally, we get to the combat. As I've said before, I'm not a purist. I don't expect this to be an exact 1:1 remake. Although I do view the original game in very high regard, there was still plenty of room for improvement and expansion. I like the idea of adding more individual abilities that are unique to each character, as classic FF7 almost entirely relied on materia customization to let you choose how to differentiate them. This is a welcome addition in the remake. But is it too much to ask that we not change entire genres from turn-based to action RPG? You want to jack it up with more fancy spectacle and effects; add new abilities; retool the materia system a bit? I'm down for all that. I just ask that you only preserve the spirit and feel of the original game, because now it's becoming something entirely different, and it's completely unnecessary. With Pokémon Sword and Shield now having sold upwards of 16 million copies since launch, their appeal certainly hasn't suffered from sticking to a traditional turn-based combat system. Why is it so hard for Final Fantasy to do the same?

This drastic change in combat system also has the effect of removing one of the most iconic jingles from the game: the victory fanfare music. Since it's all done in real-time now, there aren't separate transitions between the overworld and combat sequences to allow for this. Now again, I get it, on the one hand it's a small thing. But it's still nonetheless an integral part of FF7. You hear it throughout the entire game. Imagine once more that Nintendo was doing a Super Mario 64 remake, but they removed the fanfare and Mario shouting "Here we goooo!" every time he acquires a star. Yeah, it's a small thing, but it's god damn sacrilege to do that!

I do believe most of these issues were avoidable. Barring how difficult it is to re-orchestrate FF7's legendary soundtrack, we could have otherwise had a remake that ticks all boxes for everyone. It could have offered something new while still preserving the old. Storylines could have been expanded upon, new combat abilities and upgrades could have been added while still retaining a turn-based system, and everything could have been wrapped up nicely in a glossy new package afforded by the Playstation 4's hardware; all the while keeping the original story beats intact. I still believe the idea of fleshing out Midgar further than the original game is a worthy goal to take on; it is such an interesting place full of possibilities and potential, and in many cases the remake succeeds at this. It just didn't need to take all these other needless risks that would inevitably be polarizing. In the end, I can't help but feel like it was a missed opportunity in that regard.

Hopefully by now I've illustrated that my criticisms are not just about how the remake doesn't follow its source material as faithfully as it could, but also that many of the things it changes don't actually enhance the game; they take away from it. I don't care if you want to add more stuff to Final Fantasy VII. Just make sure that when you do, it isn't for the worse.

Now at this point you might be asking, but Siets, the original game still exists! Why not just stick to that then? Well that's the big elephant in the room, isn't it? But it's not that simple. See, the original FF7 is now over 20 years old. It's never been given a proper remaster to update it for modern audiences before, which means for many newcomers to this game, the remake will likely be their first and only experience with Final Fantasy VII because the original just looks too dated for their standards. In other words, it feels like this game is to some degree rewriting an important piece of gaming history. It is erasing a classic from existence, as more people are drawn to the remake while ignoring the original. News, discussions, merchandise, and fan art are now all about these new revisionist history takes on the characters; not the ones that I remember. I can't just ignore it.

To reiterate myself on another post I did regarding this years ago, I guess what irks me so much about this remake is that now the game will be introduced to a new generation of players, and much like 3DS updates to games like Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask before it, this remake could have served as an opportunity to preserve and update a classic, which in turn could motivate modern players to perhaps explore some more classics that they might have missed out on. But now that there are such dramatic changes, new audiences aren't really getting a taste of gaming history. My greatest concern ironically is that this new game might actually turn out great, but not a masterpiece. Because then the majority of players will flock to it and sacrifice quality gameplay and story in favor of a shiny facelift because it's merely "good enough", while the original iconic game is left in the dust, and newer generations will wonder why FF7 is viewed as such a classic.

Yet even I must admit that some of the original visuals are hard to put up with nowadays. While I do happen to think the game still holds up in most regards, it was nonetheless the first Final Fantasy game to be designed for a 3D platform, and it shows. I can certainly understand why it would be such a hard ask to just tell some people to go download one of the many available ports and play it as-is. Thankfully, we have one saving grace in all this. The PC version has been around for a long time, and not only can it probably run on any old potato computer produced in the last 10 years, but thanks to extensive work done by the modding community, it's more or less received its own unofficial remaster by means of fan updates. And with even just some modest cleanups to the game's pre-rendered backgrounds and character models, its stylized presentation can still be highly charming after all these years.

Modded FF7 with new field models and upscaled backgrounds.

Unfortunately once again, to achieve these kinds of results is prohibitively challenging, as FF7's modding tools are notoriously unwieldy to work with. In the coming months I hope to put out a guide to help streamline the installation process for those interested, as this is in my view the ideal way to experience the game, but in the meantime, this is frustratingly the current disposition of the franchise, and it's rather disappointing to me that Square couldn't put out their own official remaster before attempting something like this, as I would be much more receptive to changes knowing that new audiences still have other accessible options to turn to for the original experience.

Redesigned combat models styled after the original concept art.

To be clear, none of what I'm saying means that I think FF7 Remake is a bad game. From everything that I've seen of it so far, there has been a lot to like. I dig just about everything they've done to expand on Jessie and the Avalanche crew. The game unquestionably looks gorgeous. The combat system does look fun even in spite of it not being what I wanted. I will more than likely be picking it up for myself when it becomes available on PC or if I manage to snag a PS5, and I'll be doing my best to tolerate all of Nomura's revisionist animu nonsense so I can just enjoy all the other stuff that is actually pretty cool about it.

The main point that I want to hammer home if anything is that this is not a proper recreation or substitute for the original game, and absolutely should NOT be treated as such. If you at all end up enjoying this remake, you owe it to yourself to go back and experience the classic. Don't prove Miyazaki's prophecy true. The original game's legacy deserves to be preserved.

A Rise of Skywalker fan theory that could save Star Wars?

What if I told you there was a way to plug some major plot holes of The Last Jedi while also deepening the lore and fixing Luke and Rey's characterizations without having to change a single scene from Episode VIII? Sounds impossible right? Well it probably is, but I'm going to try anyway. Just humor me for a second.

So as we all know, Disney's new Star Wars trilogy is coming to a close this holiday season, and it's been a divisive addition to the franchise to say in the least. Now personally, I found The Force Awakens to be a derivative take, but ultimately pretty enjoyable and a decent way to reintroduce audiences to the Star Wars universe. It wouldn't have been the direction I'd have gone, but I can accept it for what it is, and no matter what people tell me, there's no convincing me its quality is in any way comparable to how bad the prequels were. They just aren't even close. Having said that, while I didn't have the same response of visceral hatred toward The Last Jedi either, I definitely had much more problems with this film than Episode VII, in large part due to some important missing context and outright broken logic that was hard to wrap my head around.

For instance, Rey was able to lift dozens of heavy boulders with the force and take on Commander Snoke's elite guards without any real Jedi training. After all, Luke spent most of the narrative denying Rey her requests for training, and he never really caved to her demands to the very end. Even The Force Awakens at least provided some kind of context to explain Rey's abilities. In the interrogation scene, Kylo was peering into Rey's mind with the force, and she could have theoretically picked up on how he was doing it because of that, so she was able to use a mind trick against the guard to escape. And likewise when she was battling Kylo at Starkiller Base, he had been previously wounded by a Wookiee Bowcaster, which had already been shown to be a deadly one-shot kill weapon, so it gave Rey a fighting chance. Yet in The Last Jedi she seemed to have special abilities just because. These are the sorts of things that Luke couldn't do until spending an entire film training with Master Yoda. This is where many criticisms come from when they talk about Rey being a "Mary Sue" character who is just good at everything for no real reason.

But an idea dawned on me as I was watching trailers for Rise of Skywalker. It may be too late for The Last Jedi to explain away these plot holes, but Episode IX still has an opportunity to address them, and in ways that could really make the plot interesting.

Consider the first trailer for Rise of Skywalker that was released. In this trailer we see a brief glimpse of Rey in Dark Jedi robes wielding a red lightsaber. Now the most obvious interpretation of this is that Disney wants you to speculate that Rey could turn to the dark side in this chapter. Another possible take is that this is just a premonition or vision of what may become if Rey makes the wrong choices, but it doesn't necessarily happen by the end of the film, so it's really just a bait and switch to get audiences intrigued. However, my take on this is something entirely different.

Let's consider one of the later trailers. In this trailer, Rey remarks, "People keep telling me they know me. No ones does." And then Kylo responds, "But I do."

What if Kylo really does know? What if he knows that she was a former student of the academy as well? What if the shot of Rey in Sith robes isn't a glimpse of what may come to pass, but what already happened? Rey once turned to the dark side with him.

Let's get even crazier with this theory now. What if Rey actually learned the secret ability of Darth Plagueis the Wise that Palpatine spoke of to Anakin? She then used it to resurrect ancient dark side force users known as the Knights of Ren. Now with the help of the Knights of Ren, and with Kylo and Rey joining their ranks, they ransacked the academy and turned on Luke.

But afterward Rey wasn't satisfied. She still wanted to learn more about the potential of the dark side, so she sought out Palpatine's resting place and began resurrecting the Emperor himself. But as she was in the process of doing this, Luke finally caught up with her and defeated her in a duel before she could complete the resurrection. Rather than killing her though, he decided to spare her life and wipe her memories with the force. It was the only thing he could do to spare her because to allow her to live with such a dangerous power that she's already done so much damage with was too much of a risk, but he also couldn't bring himself to kill his own student that he failed to train and guide away from the dark side.

Now Palpatine exists in some half-resurrected state and is still trying to manipulate Rey through the force to complete her destiny and make the Emperor reborn. This is where Rise of Skywalker picks up.

All of this could add so much contextualization for why Luke felt like such a failure. It wasn't just that he lost Ben, but Rey too. And she already wreaked so much damage from resurrecting the Knights of Ren, destroying the academy, and nearly bringing back the Emperor. I think much of the problem with why Luke's characterization didn't work with everyone is because it didn't show much of what really happened the day the academy fell. I think if Rise of Skywalker really showed the scale of the loss; the students getting murdered en masse, and the whole thing being orchestrated by two of his own most promising students, that would have weighed heavily on him. So much that it could have made him doubt that the Jedi teachings are even the right way anymore if this is what they can potentially lead to.

This theory also fixes Rey being a Mary Sue because she's already been shown to be capable of falling to the dark side. It explains why she just has incredibly gifted force powers despite never having any proper training. It also further deepens the connection between Kylo and Rey. Their history goes much further back than their first encounter in The Force Awakens. Kylo and Rey once had a close relationship at the academy, which was what led to Rey siding with him once she learned what happened between Ben and Luke. It further explains the origins of the Knights of Ren, why Rey has amnesia about her past, and how she arrived on Jakku.

And to top it off, this theory also provides a clear narrative path for how the Emperor can return for Episode IX without invalidating Vader's sacrifice and triumph over the Emperor in Return of the Jedi. Instead of having some cheap plot contrivance like Palpatine somehow surviving the fall or it was just a clone all along, he still truly died in that moment. It's just that now Rey is going to bring him back.

He could still play on Rey's insecurities about her past and her longing for meeting her parents, so maybe he manifests as the fake voice of her father, urging her to bring him back. The early parts of the film could focus on Rey rediscovering her lost power, which provides yet another opportunity to fix another problem with The Last Jedi. Rey can use her power to bring back Luke as well.

I always felt that Luke's death in The Last Jedi was a little out of place and unnecessary. His story arc seemed incomplete, and he didn't have much of a chance to do anything meaningful in the film. I was frankly OK with Luke starting out as a grumpy old curmudgeon at the beginning of the film, but then you're supposed to follow a natural character arc where Luke warms up to Rey, rediscovers his youthful optimism, and finally goes out to do heroic Jedi things again, but we never really saw much of that. With Rey's power restored in Rise of Skywalker, this can be an opportunity to bring Luke back as more than just a force ghost.

I imagine a final battle where after Rey realizes she's been tricked into bringing back the Emperor, she has to team up with Luke in one last showdown against him. It could end with Luke being heavily wounded in the fight, so as a final ditch effort, he channels the rest of his force power into Rey, giving her the combined strength to strike the Emperor down. With the battle finally over, Rey tells Luke that he wasn't a failure. He gave them hope and she had a second chance to follow the path of the light because of him. So Luke can finally pass away with the dignity he deserves.

And that's how you conclude Rise of Skywalker. Now there are a couple of last points that should probably be addressed in order for this theory to work. Firstly, one would naturally beg the question why Kylo didn't bring up this past between them before. To answer that, consider the context in which they reunited. Rey was being held captive by the First Order and a big scary Sith guy in a mask was intrusively prodding into her mind to extract information from her. From her perspective, this guy wasn't to be trusted, so even if he had mentioned it, she wouldn't have believed him anyway. And Kylo probably already concluded the same once he peered into her mind and saw that her memories were gone. He knew that he had to start from scratch if he was going to have any credibility with her.

The second problem is that having the ability to resurrect people is pretty broken and some restrictions would have to apply in order for it to not be too overpowered. Maybe because resurrecting someone disrupts the natural order of life and death, it might twist you more towards the dark side each time you use it, or it weakens your connection to the force until it cuts you off entirely, or maybe it runs the risk of flat out killing the user as well. Whatever the case, some limitations should be established so Rey can't just keep using it indefinitely.

As a final touch, I also think it would be pertinent to include some scene showing Snoke's initial manipulations of Ben; demonstrating that he didn't turn to the dark side solely because of Luke's actions, but because Snoke played on his insecurities toward Master Luke. Furthermore, I think a scene that fully contextualizes Luke's own lapse in judgment toward Ben would be helpful as well. If we could see what Luke saw when he peered into Ben's mind; maybe even see a premonition of Han Solo's death by his son's own hand; then it would be much easier to see why Luke lost it so suddenly in the moment before regaining his composure. With this added context, I think Luke's character could be fully justified while still allowing for the moral ambiguity in the story that Rian Johnson was going for.

And with that, you have fixed The Last Jedi. Mostly. Not really. But at least some of it, and it makes for a pretty entertaining movie to boot. Would JJ actually go for this theory though? Probably not. I don't think the current team behind Rise of Skywalker would be this creative or concerned with tying up loose ends in the lore, but we can still dream. In any case, we'll soon find out one way or another as Rise of Skywalker hits theaters tomorrow.

Rewriting Game of Thrones' "The Long Night" to not suck

Look, I'm not here to rain on anyone's Game of Thrones parade. If you liked the most recent episode, more power to you. There were certainly plenty of high points to be found in it. When it wanted to, it did portray the white walkers with a sense of ruthlessness and urgency that they deserved. But personally, I just can't ignore the numerous glaring writing mistakes that were made, especially for a show of GoT's caliber.

It's unbecoming of it, particularly because for so long the show was great at providing numerous twists and turns in the plot without ever breaking its own rules or having the characters make irrational decisions for the sake of fanservice and cheap Hollywood thrills. Yet unfortunately this episode, "The Long Night", was littered with them.

[Spoilers ahead, just in case you didn't figure that out by now based on the subject matter]

We were already beginning to see the plot unravel last season, but this felt like on a whole other level. Tyrion hides in the crypts instead of commanding on the wall. The Dothraki are stupidly thrown away in an unnecessary charge when you already have trebuchets to pick the white walkers off from afar. Dany lands in a field that makes her an easy target for a swarm of undead to overwhelm her. Jon is left with nothing to do but wander around until he gets pinned down by the white dragon. Arya just materializes out of nowhere to slay the Night King despite no proper buildup to it by the end of the episode, and no explanation of how she slipped by 30+ white walkers that were surrounding the Night King and Bran. Not to mention that she has no real rivalry built up with the Night King. He didn't murder her parents or abuse her sister. If the Night King was destined to fall this episode, it should have been by Jon's hands, having witnessed the Night King's ferocity in previous encounters.

But of course, the Night King shouldn't have even been on the front lines to begin with if his army's fighting strength is predicated on his sole existence. There is no reason he couldn't have just stayed on the sidelines to the very end until his army demolished Winterfell by sheer numbers, then retrieve Bran after the dust has settled. But apparently according to the writers, the way you win at Chess when you start with thousands more pawns than your opponent is to send your King out front so he can be easily checkmated.

The worst offense of all with this episode though is not all the glaring plot holes and breaches in logic made by the characters, but the fact that fundamentally, it completely collapses the foundations of Game of Thrones' plot that were laid out from season 1 episode 1. From the very beginning, we were teased that the white walkers were coming, as if it were some deep foreboding omen; a Westeros-shattering event. Something that would shake the very foundations of the world. They were constantly scheming what appeared to be some grand plot beyond our understanding while Westeros' kingdoms squabbled over power grabs. Yet in the end what happened? They didn't even advance past the very first establishment south of the wall before they were completely wiped out, making their impact less effective than pretty much every other army in the series. This was the great terror that almost conquered Westeros and had to be sealed away by a giant magical ice wall thousands of years ago? It's a complete joke.

So here's my basic script rewrite, which took me all of a few minutes to conceive in my head, just to show how easily an amateur writer could have done a better job with this episode:

First, Tyrion provides battle tactics instead of whoever the idiot was that ordered the Dothraki to go commit suicide for no reason. Since this is the final season, this is one of the last chances for Tyrion to show off his knack for being a good leader even if he isn't necessarily a good fighter, so Tyrion instructs the Dothraki to split into 2 flanks that hide in wait from the east and west.

A line of unmanned torches are strewn along north of the keep in order to help them signal when the white walkers arrive. This allows us to recreate the eeriness of the Dothraki charge scene, but without the idiotic tactics. We see that the torches start to dissipate, signaling that the white walkers have arrived, so they begin with a trebuchet barrage that puts pressure on the white walkers and forces them to move.

Once the white walkers reach close enough range, the dragons swoop in and create a line of fire that cuts off the rest of the army's advance, making it a smaller front line that can't overwhelm the Unsullied. The Dothraki then come closing in from the sides to fully pin them down and pick them off. But now just as the living start to get their hopes up, the white walkers make their surprise counter attack with the white dragon swooping in to destroy one of the Dothraki flanks. The dragons are forced to refocus their efforts on that, while eventually the wall of fire clears and the white walkers continue their advance.

Winterfell is still basically fucked at this point, but it at least shows that the humans aren't complete morons when it comes to tactical planning. They retreat to the keep but still get overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Arya manages to take out the giant shortly after he breaks down the keep door, as she's too small and agile for him to keep up with, and her blade forged by Gendry proves to be deadly. This gives us a nice substitute for her scene with the Night King as it shows how overpowered Arya is without completely breaking the narrative, but it doesn't make much difference anyway because the numbers are just too great.

Dany and Jon defeat the white dragon but lose Jon's dragon in the process, so Jon goes to join the rest of the army to help fight in the keep. With Dany's dragon finally able to return its attention to the battle on the ground, they might be able to turn back the tide, but at this point the keep is already thoroughly overwhelmed, and the Night King and his lieutenants are now making their appearance armed with ice spears. They arrive in a spread-out formation which allows them to target Dany's dragon from multiple angles.

Meanwhile Jorah, having witnessed first-hand what the Night King did to Dany's dragon when they were trapped on the island of ice, now sets his own plan into motion. He suspected the Night King would come to try and claim another dragon eventually, so rather than retreat to the keep when the signal was given, he and several Unsullied posed as corpses on the battlefield to lie in wait while the Night King had all his forces deployed to the front lines at the keep. Now with a clear path to the Night King and his lieutenants, Jorah and his small band of Unsullied stealthily make their move. Dany spots the Night King too late as one of his lieutenants has a perfect shot lined up, but Jorah catches him off-guard and scores a clean kill, saving Dany from losing their last dragon. Jorah and the Unsullied then make their way straight toward the Night King, but the king simply responds with raising his hands, and suddenly Jorah is surrounded by a new horde of white walkers that quickly dispose of him and the Unsullied.

Now I'll admit here that this plot point is perhaps a little contrived in order to give Jorah a heroic death saving Dany one last time. One could argue that Jorah couldn't have perceived how the battle would play out this far ahead. You could add a little foreshadowing in the previous episode where Jorah perhaps mentions some blurb to the Unsullied about how he's got a plan to get at the Night King, but the show switches to a different scene before he elaborates on what exactly that is. Then it doesn't come off as too entirely out of left field and builds a little extra mystery and excitement for this episode. Or, we could just write it so that Jorah is badly injured during the initial fight and gets knocked out or something, so he is never able to retreat back to the keep. Then he only barely musters the strength to get back up and take out one of the Night King's lieutenants before dying. Either way, I think it's appropriate to at least give Jorah a heroic sendoff, even if his attempts still prove futile.

Anyway, Dany is devastated, but there's no time for remorse. At this stage it has become clear that Winterfell is lost. Dany knows if she were to try and lunge for the Night King now, she would likely get hit by a spear before she could even reach her target, and the longer she lingers, the greater the risk that she could lose their last dragon. Tyrion, Arya, Brienne, Sam, and a few other survivors retreat to the crypts with Sansa and the gang, and they follow a secret underground passage that leads south out of Winterfell, avoiding the white walker hordes. As the battle continues, the white walkers surround the keep and crowd in the entrance to the crypt, leaving Jamie, Jon, and a few other soldiers still stranded on the surface with nowhere to run. With the remaining dragon left, Dany lays down 2 parallel lines of fire south out of the keep to make a narrow path for Jamie and the others to escape on horseback. As the white walkers begin pouring through the entrance to the crypt, Brienne decides to hold her ground, blocking the white walkers' path and buying them time while Sansa and the others escape through the underground passage. She dies valiantly defending the passageway while the remaining survivors escape. This more or less wraps up the episode. It ends with the Night King standing menacingly atop the keep wall, overlooking the devastation with a look of satisfaction once more, and just as it dips to black, the roar of Jon's fallen dragon can be heard; resurrected as yet another white dragon.

And that's your basic outline to keep building up the threat of the white walkers while still allowing key characters to survive. A couple things to note though for some details I left out. There are several things you could end up doing with Bran in this episode. It could be an interesting plot point if Bran does in fact get captured or killed by the Night King. We still don't fully know the implications of what this would mean for Westeros going forward, and it could be something intriguing to explore further. Or, he could just be with Sansa in the crypt the whole time and he escapes with the survivors to be saved for a more important role later in the season. Either way, the script we actually got has Bran reduced to nothing more than a worm on a fishing pole, so frankly both of these options are preferable to what we ended up with.

Another possibility I've heard suggested about what the Night King could do as a smarter course of action is just skip Winterfell entirely and use his dragon to fly far past Jon and Dany's defenses. Since he can raise the dead, he could theoretically just sneak into some backwater town in the middle of the night, slay a bunch of people in their sleep and raise them all back as part of a southern army that he could then use to flank everyone by surprise. This would be an actually clever subversion of expectations, though I'd still say with the way I've written it, it could still play to the Night King's benefit to try and claim another dragon or two at Winterfell instead, which he does achieve in my version of events.

Now the white walkers are a bigger threat than ever, and we can have a three-way finale between the army of the dead, Cersei, and the Targaryens. To be honest, I'm fine with it if the writers wanted to have the Night King defeated all along, but it was just too early in the plot to feel earned with this episode. They should conquer at least a good half of Westeros and allow us to really feel that winter has come before having a final showdown with Jon and the Night King. That would have been far more cathartic. As it stands now though, the white walkers are a completely wasted element in the narrative; reduced to one-note baddies that leave no real impact on the world despite nearly a decade of buildup and scheming behind the scenes.

It's clear the writers decided after a certain point that they had lost interest in the white walkers, and the real threat that holds the most intrigue to them is Cersei. This is Game of Thrones after all; it's in the title of the show, so to a certain extent this outcome should have been expected. But if that's the case, then why bother with all this teasing and buildup for 7 seasons? If this was all they had planned for the endgame of the white walkers, then they shouldn't have even bothered with this plotline at all.

Mini's Top 10 (Factually) Greatest Games of All-Time

Everybody likes top 10 lists. You like 'em. I like 'em. We just can't resist the urge to sequentially number random things. But only I've got the super special list; the factual, scientifically tested, FDA approved list. Using my fine-tuned methodology, I was able to definitively prove with precision measurement just what video games provide the highest objective entertainment value for your buck.

I won't get too much into the details of it, but the experiment involves tying the test subjects to a chair and screaming in their face until they repeat back the results I like. Occasionally blunt instruments may have been utilized to control for certain... variables. Out of ten thousand test subjects, the data came back with unanimous consensus. 100% of participants agreed that this top 10 list is indeed the most accurate and correct list for the Greatest Games of All-Time and Outside of Space-Time. Just in case you happen to find yourself being sucked through a black hole to a timeless, empty, dimensionless void, you can be confident that this list still remains true even while you're there.

So without further ado, here are Mini's Top 10 (Factually) Greatest Games of All-Time:

#10. Zone of the Enders: The Second Runner - MARS (PC, 2003-2018)

Most people know the name Hideo Kojima from his work on the Metal Gear series. He's a game director that has made himself famous for extravagant over-the-top plots and hour-long cutscenes. While I do appreciate the Metal Gear series myself, unfortunately I think that franchise as a whole has suffered from wildly varying quality control. The first game could be considered groundbreaking for pushing the envelope on cinematic storytelling in video games, but its graphics and gameplay haven't aged particularly well, and its numerous sequels all seem to take trade-offs and sacrifices for every step forward they make.

For Zone of the Enders: The Second Runner on the other hand, the game is a massive improvement over its predecessor in almost every way, and it has never seemed to get the acknowledgement it deserves for being quite possibly the greatest mech game ever made. It's faster, leaner, prettier, and just a damn good time.

While it is a fairly short game, it also is almost entirely devoid of filler, with each advancement in the plot revealing something interesting and substantial about its characters or lore. Although the story itself isn't nearly as convoluted or original as Metal Gear's, it makes up for this by just being tightly-paced and sufficiently detailed enough to stay invested in. Kojima still does have his fun with bombastic storytelling and dramatic character interactions, but without all the bloat of multi-layered government conspiracies, clones, and artificial intelligence pulling all the strings behind the scenes. It's just Dingo and his orbital frame; smack-talking to everyone he comes into contact with for funsies.

The real star of ZOE2 though is not its story but its gameplay. It so perfectly captures the speed and exhilaration of intense fight scenes that you would see out of action anime, and does so without the controls feeling loose, clunky, or too unruly to handle. Though it is an unorthodox control scheme, once you get used to it, controlling Jehuty is a breeze. I'm actually rather surprised that there hasn't been a Dragon Ball Z game that has adopted a similar system since, as it would be an excellent fit for the franchise. But Zone of the Enders really is one of a kind, and there's nothing else that has been able to so effortlessly combine frenetic action with concise and dramatic storytelling since.

It also goes without saying that this game was absolutely gorgeous upon release. Its semi-cel shaded aesthetic helped it age phenomenally, and it's only gotten better with two HD remasters over the years. That's why I recommend the MARS edition of the game, which includes the latest 4K textures and 5.1 remastered audio.

#9. Mario Kart 8 Deluxe (Switch, 2014-2017)

Wait, what the hell is this? A racing game on MY top 10 list? What a JOKE. That's like putting Madden or FIFA in there. WHO DOES THAT? There must be some sort of mistake. Let me double-check my notes... Oh nope, it's got Mario in the title, so it checks out.

Your surprise is as big as mine. I can't be bothered to care about anything even vaguely sports-related; racing games included. That's why Mario Kart 8 blew my mind in 2014 when I was suddenly enamored by its stellar presentation, content, and controls.

While seemingly just another racing game like any other when you first pick up and play, it's all the little details in this package that manage to keep elevating it ever so slightly with each passing return. The crazy anti-gravity tracks, the colorful visuals, Luigi's death stare, vehicle customization, the extreme diversity of environments, the slick elegance of pulling off a long drift followed by a speed boost; everything it does is executed with such fluidity and grace. It's like licking your ice cream cone in slow-motion.

Mario Kart 8 embodies the greatest of "easy to pick up, difficult to master" games. With each increasing difficulty, you need to get a handle on a new aspect of the gameplay in order to succeed. Anyone can breeze through starting out on 50cc, but by 100cc you'll want to get a good grasp on the layout of the tracks and when to use various items. At 150cc, you'll need to have mastered drifting around corners in order to survive the sharp turns, and by 200cc, you will need to bring all your cards to the table and master braking while drifting at just the right moments to stay on the track, or you can't hope to 3-star every Grand Prix. The gradual ramping up of difficulty naturally forced me to learn new techniques without being too overwhelming at first, which made the experience incredibly satisfying; constantly driving me to come back for more.

Mario Kart 8 is also one of the few online experiences that Nintendo mostly gets right. I very rarely experience lag or the general jank that often comes with poor online connectivity.

The game originally launched for Wii U, but it was later ported to Switch in the form of the deluxe edition, which includes all previous DLC as well as a completely overhauled battle mode; making it the recommended way to play. My only real gripe with the Switch release is the inclusion of "smart steering", which is enabled by default and hidden away in obscure menus in order to disable it. I don't have a problem with making the game more accessible, but smart steering's aggressive implementation is overreaching and unnecessary.

As someone who isn't really qualified to make this assessment, Mario Kart 8 is the greatest racing game ever made. Luckily, I'm scientifically backed by my rigorous study of ten thousand captives volunteers, so I'm confident in making this claim anyway. Mario Kart 8 did the impossible. It didn't just make me care about a racing game; it made me fall in love with it. And for that, it deserves a spot on this list.

#8. The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess HD (Wii U, 2006-2015)

Of course we have to have a Zelda title, so here we are. I know what you're thinking though. Twilight Princess? Really? What about Ocarina of Time, A Link to the Past, or every hipster's favorite choice, Majora's Mask? Well look, I have mad respect for these games. I've wasted countless hours getting lost in Ocarina of Time myself, but I think Twilight Princess doesn't get enough credit largely due to its place in time. It really doesn't do a whole lot new or different with the Zelda formula, yet had it came out in place of Ocarina of Time, it would have been heralded as a masterpiece just the same.

Ocarina of Time was both my first experience with the Zelda franchise and my previous favorite, but as much as I view it to be an iconic classic as well, I have to be honest and say that I found the latter dungeons in the Adult Link half to become a bit of a slog at times. As the game progressed, it became less interested in contextualizing why you're wandering around all these spike-and-lava-filled corridors and felt a little mechanical after a while. Just free the sage from the next dungeon you need to plunder, and that's roughly the full extent of your motivation for moving forward. In essence, Ocarina of Time starts out strong but slowly loses steam, whereas Twilight Princess in contrast does the reverse; starting out rather dull but gradually building into a crescendo, finally culminating in a spectacular four-phase showdown against Ganondorf. It makes for a more satisfying story progression.

Once you finally don your Hero's Tunic, the game offers a great variety of dungeons and set pieces while placing a larger emphasis on story to provide greater motivation for what you're doing. The combat is enhanced by various optional sword techniques that you can acquire, the boss battles have an epic sense of scale, and its half-anime, half-realism aesthetic is a unique blend that works really well for it. Midna is not just a superior assistant to Navi; she is Best Assistant. Of all-time. Ever. There will never be a better assistant in a Zelda game. Also you just start out as Adult Link this time with no jumping through hoops.

Nowadays the ideal way to play this game is via the remastered Wii U version for the enhanced visuals, but you can't go wrong with the original GameCube release either. Just avoid the Wii version for the shoehorned motion controls.

If you think about it, Twilight Princess is everything great about Ocarina of Time but with extra polish. It has more story, more content, a smoother framerate, and more refined mechanics. The problem is if you already played a previous 3D Zelda, it might feel all too familiar, so it's easy to overlook. But for me, this isn't reason enough to dismiss it. Sometimes doing things the same but just better is good enough, especially when your foundation is built on a masterpiece. So in the end, I'm gonna out-hipster the hipsters here and go with Twilight Princess. Sorry Majora's Mask fans. But let's keep it real, you can't go wrong with any Zelda really.

Shut up Skyward Sword. I wasn't talking about you.

#7. Super Mario 64 (Nintendo 64, 1996)

Mario is quite possibly the most iconic video game character of all-time; single-handedly being responsible for reviving the industry after the video game crash of the 1980s. So far-reaching is his indomitable might that it's no wonder there are not just one, but two titles starring the Italian plumber on this list.

Out of all the Mario titles over the decades, Super Mario 64 stands out the most notable to me; not just for being the first 3D Mario experience, but for managing to be so memorable and engaging that it still remains his best adventure. There's just something magical about the entire experience, from its infectious soundtrack to the simple pleasures of exploring Peach's castle. I was always eager to see what mysteries lie behind the next locked door or hidden passageway.

The victory fanfare followed by a "Here we gooo!" after acquiring a new star always gets you pumped so that you want to jump right back into the level and hunt for more. Swimming through the tranquil waters of Jolly Roger Bay while being entranced by its hypnotic tunes is a sublime trip. Spinning Bowser around until you finally toss him to the wind with a "So long-a Bowser!" puts a big dumb grin on your face. There are so many special moments this game creates that no other Mario title has managed to replicate since.

Mario 64 radically changed the gameplay from the traditional sidescrollers by opting for a hub world with nonlinear gameplay. Nintendo could have easily just stuck to the usual Mario formula but in 3D, yet despite being in deeply unfamiliar territory, they went above and beyond the call anyway and completely reinvented the plumber as we know him. It was impressive enough how ground-breaking this game was for the Mario franchise, but on top of this, it ended up defining an entire genre of collectathon adventure games that would emulate this formula for a decade.

It cannot be overstated how much of an impact this game left on the industry. Sure, there were 3D games that came before it, but Mario 64 fully realized the potential of the medium by crafting a world and mechanics that can only work as well as they do in a 3D space. More than any other game throughout the industry's entire history, Mario 64 felt like the biggest leap in next-generation entertainment; ushering in a new era where the baseline for a AAA experience must be in 3D.

#6. Super Smash Bros. Brawl (Wii, 2008)

First I went with Twilight Princess as Best Zelda, and now I'm going with Brawl as Best Smash. Look, I can't help it folks, it's just science OK? I had to go through a lot of blunt instruments to get to the truth on this one, and this is the result we got, so DEAL WITH IT.

It's hard to talk about the virtues of Brawl without first addressing its controversial legacy. Coming off the heels of the massively popular and highly competitive Super Smash Bros. Melee, for many Brawl was seen as a disappointment upon its launch. Director Masahiro Sakurai doubled down on his insistence that Smash at its core is a party game, not a hyper-competitive fighter. This led to some design choices that left Melee fans out in the cold. For my two cents on the matter, I prefer something a little more in-between, but Brawl still ended up working very well for me.

Brawl reduced the overall speed of combat, making it feel more in line with the N64 original. On top of this, it introduced the infamous tripping mechanic, which would cause your character to fall over and interrupt movement entirely at random. While I can't deny that tripping was just a bad design choice no matter how you look at it, what I can say is that it was still mostly inconsequential, and the derision leveled against it is largely overblown. In fact, I can't think of a single instance where tripping actually caused me to lose a match. With only a 1% chance of triggering upon a dash, you could often go several matches without experiencing a single trip, and even if you did, the chances were even more rare that you ended up severely punished for it.

Brawl's slower combat speed tends to get a bad wrap too, but something I always thought was missing from Melee was the sense of impact from landing a good hit. In the first Smash Bros game, you felt the crunch when you got slammed by a well-timed smash attack or a fully-charged special. With Melee on the other hand, there was very little weight behind most attacks. In a way, this was necessary in order for Melee to maintain its faster speed, but it also deflated a sense of satisfaction from each individual hit. Brawl's return to a slower style of combat brought back some of that feeling of weight behind a good punch.

Of course, now with the further refined mechanics in Smash Ultimate, Sakurai has found ways to bring back the smash in Smash without sacrificing speed, so we get the best of both worlds, but Brawl still barely inches out the latest entry for one reason: content. I've never been big on fighting games, and one of the major reasons for that is due to a lack of varied content. Most settle for slightly different dress-ups of the same old versus mode in order to diversify themselves, but it's not enough to escape the feeling of repetition. This is especially exacerbated by the fact that most stages in fighting games don't actually impact the gameplay at all and merely serve as visual backdrops. This is not the case when it comes to Smash.

In stark contrast to other fighting games, the Smash Bros series makes movement a lot less restrictive and more free-flowing, giving players the ability to more easily traverse uneven ground and elaborate layouts. This allows each stage to bring something different to the table with hazards, power-ups, and varied terrain. Then you've got an assortment of other fun bonus modes like Break the Targets and Home-run Contest. But what makes Brawl truly go even further beyond any other Smash Bros is its ambitious Subspace Emissary mode.

Subspace Emissary is a massive sprawling campaign mode that turns the game into a sidescrolling adventure featuring every iconic Nintendo character. Players journey through lengthy stages full of obstacles, enemies, and boss battles; all neatly woven together with numerous cutscenes showcasing the characters' bombastic interactions with each other. To date, I can't think of any other fighting game that has attempted a story mode on this scale and made it work as well as it does in Brawl.

Another reason the Smash series just stands out in general is its unique accessibility over other fighting games. By stripping away the need to pause the game and memorize intricate button combos for each character, Smash Bros is infinitely easier to jump right into with any new character and instantly gain a decent grasp of their move set. There's really no end to the praises I can sing for this series and how much it breaks genre conventions to great success.

Brawl in particular has been around the block for so long that numerous mods have been made for it. Recently my ideal choice for experiencing it is with Balanced Brawl mod in Dolphin emulator. Balanced Brawl fixes what little gripes I had with the game, removing the tripping mechanic and lightly tweaking the characters to make everyone more well-rounded and competitive. And with crisp 1080p 60 FPS graphics in Dolphin, I'm still able to get a lot of extra mileage out of it. Though if you don't have a capable PC, Balanced Brawl is still fully playable on Wii with a SD card and original copy of the game.

#5. StarCraft: Brood War (PC, 1998)

This game was so effective with its execution that it made the entire rest of the genre irrelevant for me. Command & Conquer? Meh. Age of Empires? Yawn. What's Warhammer 40K again? Oh well. Why bother when we've already achieved the pinnacle of Real-Time Strategy? Blizzard spoiled me so much with this game that afterward I struggled to latch onto any RTS not produced by them. Any time I would attempt to try something else, I would just think, "I'd rather be playing StarCraft right now."

StarCraft is the game that birthed modern eSports and turned playing video games into a career. Thanks to its polished gameplay and South Korea's mad obsession with it, StarCraft will forever go down as a legend in the video game industry.

The special sauce that makes StarCraft what it is can be attributed to a number of ingredients. Chiefly among them is the distinct designs of the three playable races in the game. Each plays radically different, yet all can hold their own and turn into a force to be reckoned with once you master their ins and outs. It's a delicate balance to maintain, but the payoff is a lot of added replay value as you could experiment with so many different styles of play. A moody soundtrack and unique interface design also accompanies each race to add to their distinct feel.

Then there's StarCraft's campaign, which features complete story arcs for all three races and is chock full of memorable characters, political backstabbings, and also surprisingly, a great sense of atmosphere. There are haunting scenes of marines bearing down in the trenches; giving it all they have until they realize they're out of ammo and there's nothing left to save them from the encroaching swarm of Zerg. A great sense of melancholy can be felt throughout your journey with the Protoss, as the proud and ancient race must continually make one heartbreaking sacrifice after another in order to secure their future. Lots of great moments permeate the experience on top of delivering exceptional RTS gameplay.

And finally, StarCraft offers the robust Campaign Editor, which includes many of the same tools used by the developers to craft the game's level designs. So versatile is its capabilities that users could create levels that entirely change the genre of StarCraft, from RPG to capture the flag and tower defense. With the inclusion of the editor, StarCraft's replay value is seemingly infinite, as even when you grow bored of the core RTS experience, players can always be creating something new to explore. More than any other tool that Blizzard has released for their games, I find StarCraft's Campaign Editor to strike the best balance between accessibility and complexity.

Thanks to remaster work done on the game, it has now also recently earned the distinction of being able to run on a toaster and in 4K at the same time. The remastered version of the game now retails for $15, which is pretty much a steal for one of the greatest game experiences of all-time. Or you can just literally steal the base game because Blizzard now offers it for free, you cheapskates.

#4. Final Fantasy VII (PC, 1997-1998)

Now we're really getting into the hard choices where I had to make some tough compromises. I knew at least one JRPG had to make this list, but I didn't have room for any more, so this came down to a fierce battle between Chrono Trigger and Final Fantasy VII. Either one of these games is easily deserving to be here, but in the end I decided it's more satisfying to stuff it to all of FF7's trendy critics who love to remind us how overrated this game is, and [insert FF# here] is really the best one. No. Fuck you. Final Fantasy VII is the best. Now GET OUT.

Nah but seriously, Chrono Trigger is a wonderfully-crafted game. However Final Fantasy VII arguably offers everything that Chrono Trigger has and more, even if its execution is occasionally sloppier in doing so. You've got the classic turn-based battle system, a colorful cast of characters, a god-tier soundtrack that will forever be immortalized in your soul, and a sweeping epic story to save the world from a once-venerable hero who tragically turned coo-coo for Jenova Puffs. Or something like that.

But what really sets this game apart for me is that Final Fantasy VII marked the first time in my experience with the medium that truly crystallized video games as an art form. Nothing quite rivals the feels train that this game brings right from the moment that it pulls up to its first stop in Midgar. FF7 doesn't just settle for a cast of likable characters that you can get invested in. So much of its story actually speaks to the human condition and touches on real life issues that are still resonant today. Mega-corporations exploiting the world's natural resources, the high cost of war, mental health, the morally blurred lines between vigilantism and terrorism, the fragility of human life, moving on when your greatest hopes and dreams have been crushed; FF7 touches on a number of themes, and it does so in such a way that feels so genuine in the moment.

Amidst all the JRPG jargon of mako reactors, materia, and Jenova cells, there are numerous small human moments that help keep the story grounded and give this game so much character. When you learn what Shinra did to Barrett's hometown and his best friend, suddenly his rants against the system don't sound so much like the ravings of a wannabe hero who maybe let his idealism get carried away, but instead they reveal a deeply troubled soul whose rage is all too real.

At first glance, Cid just seems like a crotchety old man who treats his assistant like garbage, yet when you learn of how close he came to realizing his childhood dream of becoming an astronaut, and how a last-minute complication shuttered the space program, it's a tragic moment that sheds a completely different light on his character. It doesn't excuse his behavior of course, but it does let you understand him.

The brilliance of FF7's narrative is not just in the dialogue, but the visuals as well. While so many JRPGs tend to opt for bright colors and clean aesthetics, FF7 is decidedly dirtier and feels more lived in. It gives a sense that every place has a rich history behind it often without any direct exposition needed. Before you even set foot in Cid's house, it's quite apparent that his rocket has seen better days. It towers over the town in a dilapidated state, crooked at a slight angle from its failed launch and covered in moss from years of neglect. Incidentally, this is also a great metaphor for the current state of America's space program...

20-year-old spoiler warning, but just in case you didn't know by now, Sephiroth kills Dumbledore. Erhmm, Aeris that is. Aeris. Not to be confused with "Aerith", which is also a lie. Anyway, it's a pretty sad moment. You might have heard of it. It's kinda one of the most iconic depictions in gaming. Not only because of the shocking imagery, but because of the way it was built up to in the narrative. Up until this point, we were led to believe that Aeris was an integral member of the party. She was shaping up to be the main love interest of Cloud, and there had already been several heartfelt and cute moments shared with her that ensured the plot armor was laid on thick. And yet, death still came for her. It's a powerful scene, and the permanence of it makes it all the more potent.

I could go on about the richness of FF7's story, but now let's talk gameplay. Fundamentally, the game's combat isn't all that different from your typical JRPG. It's standard turn-based fare, but it's in the presentation of it that jacks the fun factor up to 11. The flashy limit break attacks combined with the epic god-like summons make it a spectacle to behold on-screen, with one particular summon clocking in at almost a minute and a half of dunking on the enemy with thousands of damage.

The other reason FF7's gameplay stands out to me is in its constant willingness to experiment with various mini-game activities, all the while seamlessly weaving the story into each one. Admittedly, not all of these mini-games work as smoothly as they should, but they help break up the monotony of standard RPG gameplay nonetheless, and when it is at its best, you have Cloud running around town getting into all sorts of silly antics in order to cross-dress as a girl and sneak into a brothel to rescue Tifa.

Final Fantasy VII's only major fault is that its character models look like ass, even by 1997 standards. That's why I recommend the PC version with mods as the best way to play, so you don't have to stare at those laughable brick hands all day. What I don't recommend is waiting for the remake, as the Square of today is not the same company it was 20 years ago, so not only will you probably be waiting another 20 years before it comes out, but most likely many fun quirks about the original will be lost in translation.

#3. Half-Life 2 (PC, 2004)

Ironically enough, around the time of this game's launch, I was mega-hyped for an entirely different first person shooter releasing within the same month. That game was Halo 2. Half-Life 2 wasn't even on my radar, as I never played the first game, and the idea of the protagonist being an unassuming silent nerd running around with a crowbar in a weird orange lab suit gave me an initial gut reaction that this game just seemed too bonkers for me.

On the other hand, the E3 tech demo they showcased was quite impressive from a technical perspective. I never thought such realistic physics were possible in video games up until this point. Half-Life 2 was one of the earliest games to make use of Havok physics, which gave us the first glimpses of what truly life-like interactions could look like in a video game. Yet as technically impressive as it was, the material wasn't presented in a particularly engaging manner beyond "Look what our engine can do!" so it failed to grab me beyond that.

Meanwhile, that E3 demonstration of Halo 2 was completely jaw-dropping. It was full of spectacle, the graphics were an astonishing bump up from the first game despite running on the same hardware, and the booming Marty O'Donnell score made you feel like it was a Hollywood movie coming to life. To this day, I'm not sure I've ever been as hyped for a game as I was for Halo 2.

Then the game came out. I invited my best friend over and it took us just two days to blast through the campaign in co-op mode. While it was a very fun time, there was definitely a lingering feeling afterward that Halo 2 didn't deliver on what was billed to us at E3. The graphics were significantly scaled back, ugly texture pop-in was rampant, and much of the cinematic atmosphere of the demo was only sparsely found in the final product. In fact, its cliffhanger ending was hardly the worst of its offenses if you ask me. I felt lied to.

Fast forward roughly a year later. I caught a glimpse of my brother playing Half-Life 2 on his PC, and I was impressed by the battle that I watched unfold over City 17. It was giving me those same cinematic vibes I once had while watching that demo of Halo 2 way back when, except this time it's actually playable. Right in front of me. And what was up with that giant Combine tower stretching so far into the sky that it went above the clouds? The game had a way of creating a sense of mystery and intrigue through imagery alone, which made me all the more enticed to finally sit down and give this game a try.

It didn't take long after Barney handed me my first crowbar that I became completely sucked into this game and its world. Half-Life 2 has such a grounded sense of realism and grit to it amidst an otherwise heavy sci-fi backdrop. Despite its very linear design, the game is a masterclass in making you feel like you are only a very small part of a much bigger world. Time has already been marching onward for City 17's citizens long before you arrive, and everyone is going about their own daily routines. You'll just wander into a building and witness Combine security raiding apartments; terrorizing citizens without the slightest consideration or acknowledgement of who you are. This kind of world-building was extremely effective at pulling me in.

In contrast to many first person shooters which rely almost exclusively on action to carry themselves, Half-Life 2 excels at both pacing and variety in gameplay. The physics interactions aren't just a gimmick; they are core mechanics of the game, and many puzzles revolve around them. Just when you might start to get bored of blasting away headcrabs and Combine soldiers, the game seems to know right when to shake things up with a vehicle section, puzzle, narrative segment, or a little bit of scavenging and exploration. Combined altogether with some fantastic action set pieces along the way, and you have a recipe for the greatest FPS campaign ever made, even almost 15 years after its release. Half-Life 2 is truly in a league of its own.

#2. Mass Effect 2 (PC, 2010)

It's funny sometimes how such an odd set of circumstances can wind up introducing you to one of your all-time favorites. In the months leading up to Mass Effect's launch, Sci-fi channel (now known as "Syfy") ran a promotional contest to win a free copy of the Collector's Edition. I entered purely with the intent to sell it on Ebay if I even won it at all, as I was struggling to find ways to make money at the time, and initial impressions of the game just didn't grab me.

Astonishingly, the game actually showed up at my doorstep a few weeks later, neatly packaged and ready to play. With the game now placed right in front of me, and knowing that I had an amazing time with the last BioWare game I played (Knights of the Old Republic), I decided that I would at least pop the game into my Xbox once and give it a chance before I turn it over to someone else. What followed was a near-instant reversal of my previous decision to sell the game.

Mass Effect's introductory sequence knew exactly how to hook me in. It wastes no time establishing some intriguing world-building, like how humans are only newcomers to galactic civilization and don't hold any real power or respect. The story steadily drip-feeds you more information about galactic history, an ancient civilization called the Protheans, and how it all connects back to events unfolding now, and it's all done in such a way that, like Half-Life 2, makes its universe feel so much bigger than you, and encourages you to want to explore as much of it as you can.

When all was said and done, Mass Effect really showcased what a great Star Trek game could look like (despite not actually being Star Trek). But it did have some problems. Numerous side missions were terrible at recycling assets, the framerate was erratic, inventory management got cumbersome, and combat could feel rather clunky at times.

Pretty much all of these issues were addressed in its sequel, Mass Effect 2. Combat feels a lot more fast-paced and fluid, the repetitive side missions were replaced with largely more substantive content, and the inventory system was... well, removed. Not the ideal choice, but still an improvement I suppose.

Mass Effect 2 did have to give and take in a few areas in order to make itself into a leaner game. Much of the intricate galactic politics and alien squabbling that went on in the first game isn't as prevalent here. However, while Mass Effect 1 did give a nicer overview of the universe that BioWare had crafted, the second game does flesh out the seedier underbelly of the galaxy just as well in its own right. With Commander Shepard now reluctantly working for a shady organization called Cerberus, you will frequently find yourself taken to some of the more disreputable and lawless regions of space, and the game does a great job of building an atmosphere around that, with many alien interactions involving ulterior motives and questionable agendas that you have to contend with.

OK so there's a lot of sci-fi and a lot of pew-pew in these games; that's par for the course. But that obviously isn't reason enough for Mass Effect 2 to score so high on this list. What really sets this game apart is in the story of your crew. Or rather, the story that you make of them.

With human colonies being mysteriously abducted by a race called the Collectors and taken to an unknown system beyond the Omega 4 Relay, Shepard is in charge of investigating the reason behind these abductions and putting an end to them. There's just one big problem. Nobody who has attempted to enter the Omega 4 Relay has ever returned in its many years of existence, so you're going to need a crew of some of the best in the galaxy to be prepared for whatever you might encounter on the other side.

This formulates the basis of Mass Effect 2's mission design, as one assignment after another will have you scouring the galaxy to assemble your team. Each time you pick up a new recruit, tons of new dialogue possibilities open up, along with an optional loyalty mission to earn your crew's respect and trust. These loyalty missions are frequently just as fun as the recruitment missions themselves, as you learn much more behind each character's backstory and really get to build a bond with your crew.

This all leads up to the game's explosive tension-filled finale. Aptly dubbed the "Suicide Mission", going beyond the Omega 4 Relay is quite possibly the most epic climax I've ever experienced in a video game. Up until this point, there have been numerous choices you could have made throughout the story to influence the loyalty of your crew and upgrade your ship's technology so that everyone and everything is at the best of their ability. Anything less than that, and it can mean the difference between everyone surviving the mission or no one. When I first played this mission, I wasn't even aware of how many of my crew could possibly die or not, and to what degrees I might be able to influence the outcome, so when I saw my first crewman drop dead, I got paranoid.

Fuck no am I losing Garrus. Mordin and Tali better not kick the bucket either. I started intentionally assigning characters I deemed of lesser importance to more critical roles where I thought they would be at greater risk of dying. This was in order to protect the characters that I couldn't accept losing, but even then, it was still hard to stomach. I had never been put in a place like this before while playing a video game. Mass Effect 2 actually made me feel the weight of my decisions.

Everything culminates in a Lovecraftian nightmare plot twist that reveals a disturbing fact about the enemy, followed by a fierce boss battle against said nightmare. The whole mission is just an insane adrenaline rush of shocking imagery, explosive action, and desperate maneuvers from your crew. Seeing it all unfold with your choices affecting the outcomes is an impressive feat of engineering from BioWare, and I've never seen anything like it since.

With EA slowly increasing its chokehold on its developers over the years, the stars must have aligned for some kind of miracle in order for this game come out the way it did under the circumstances.

#1. Battleborn (PC, 2016)

Battleborn is: FPS; hobby-grade coop campaign; genre-blended, multi-mode competitive e-sports; meta-growth, choice + epic Battleborn Heroes!

#1. Super Metroid (SNES, 1994)

Most people probably think when choosing a number one you should carefully consider a multitude of different factors. Level design, mechanics, graphics, soundtrack, etc. The truth is that's all way overthinking it.

All you need to do in order to be taken seriously as a critic and solidify your great taste is to just pick something old. That's why every film critic worth their pedigree knows to pick Citizen Kane as their number one. It instantly validates your pretentiousness along with some other pretty rad benefits. An impeccable mustache and monocle will suddenly materialize upon your face, and you will ascend to an enlightened state where all criticisms are drowned out by the sound of your sipping tea and munching on crumpets.

So of course how could I choose anything other than the mother of all metroidvanias itself? Now you can't tell me Twilight Princess and Brawl aren't the best of their respective franchises. I've got pretentious immunity, bitches!

But it just so conveniently happens that Super Metroid is also great at all of those other unnecessary things I mentioned. Indeed, it feels like every pixel of this game was perfectly laid out; every sound carefully crafted to elicit a certain gratifying feeling out of you. Super Metroid is a game far ahead of its time. When the trend was for games to be bright, colorful, and largely linear affairs, Metroid was a considerably darker open-ended experience. It was an immensely atmospheric game before atmosphere was even a thing in games.

There is plenty of quality to be found in the Metroid series as a whole, but Super Metroid stands head and shoulders above the rest by not only setting the standard for all future metroidvanias to come, but still maintaining its supremacy to this day. While its earlier incarnations felt more like prototypes that had to be viewed through the lens of their time period, Super Metroid requires no such contextualization to appreciate. As a proper nonlinear game, it is neither as frustratingly vague as its predecessors, nor as overly telegraphed as its successors. It gives you just the right amount of tools and clues to figure out where to go next without spelling it out for you. When you discover something new, it is your discovery, which makes for a very satisfying feeling of exploration and progression.

Super Metroid was a game that I could spend countless hours getting lost in during my childhood. Exploring the depths of planet Zebes to uncover whatever secrets I could find was endlessly rewarding, and uncovering hidden power-ups that continuously enhance Samus' power suit kept me coming back for more. Even when there isn't necessarily a treasure waiting around the corner for you, just the simple act of traversing its world and taking in the scenery is engaging enough. With very little dialogue to be found in the game, it often tells a story through careful attention to detail in the visuals alone. And unlike many modern open world games, nothing about it feels like filler. Every area is meticulously designed to bring a new experience.

As a game driven heavily by visuals and atmosphere, it's difficult to express in words exactly what makes Super Metroid so special. All of it just comes together in a package that is greater than the sum of its parts, and it completely immerses you into its world. It's the game that turned my hobby into a passion, and has inspired countless developers. Super Metroid isn't just held up by nostalgia. It's incredibly polished, and will continue to stand the test of time for decades to come.

What are your favorite games of all-time? Let me know in the comments so I can correct you with science.