For my money, there isn't a better horror monster than The Thing's shape-shifting alien organism. Even 42 years later, Rob Bottin's practical effects are still incredible, capturing each freakish amalgamation of tentacles, sharp teeth, sinew, and traces of malformed humanity with ghastly clarity. I've seen The Thing dozens of times, yet seeing Norris' decapitated head contort and grow arthropod-esque legs will never fail to twist my stomach in knots. These are the everlasting images of The Thing, but it's the alien's ability to perfectly imitate anyone that genuinely terrifies, permeating each scene with an unnerving sense of dread and paranoia that affects both its characters and the audience watching. Who do you trust when anyone could be a clandestine threat?

Back in 2002, developer Computer Artworks attempted to translate this feeling into an officially licensed video game for The Thing. The now-shuttered studio came close to succeeding, too, creating a third-person horror-action game with a unique squad system that ensured you could never entirely trust the person fighting by your side. It's become somewhat of a cult classic since then, leading to this remaster from Nightdive Studios--a developer known for faithfully restoring myriad games, including Shadow Man and Star Wars: Dark Forces. The Thing: Remastered is a similarly authentic experience, albeit with a number of key improvements to the game's visuals, controls, and some quality-of-life mechanics. Beyond this, it's much the same game as it was in 2002, for both the good and the bad.

The game's setup is one of its better aspects, acting as a direct sequel to John Carpenter's iconic 1982 film. You play as the bland, one-dimensional Captain Blake, leader of a U.S. Special Forces rescue team sent to investigate Outpost 31 in the isolating tundra of Antarctica. Of course, we know what transpired when MacReady and the rest of this research facility encountered the shape-shifting alien life-form, and it doesn't take long before Blake is fighting off all manner of horrific entities. He's rather nonchalant about the whole thing, though, anchoring a relatively thin story that feels distinctly 2002 in all the worst ways. While it begins as a more action-oriented facsimile of the film it's ostensibly a sequel to, the narrative quickly delves into predictable territory with the military experimenting on the Thing to use the alien for its own gain. It's all very stereotypical, with melodramatic voice acting and--aside from a fun cameo from John Carpenter himself--an inherently disposable cast of characters.

It only feels right to begin this review with a confession: I am not someone who saw good reason for there to be a follow-up to the original Life is Strange game. I felt that way when Beyond the Storm was announced, and I felt that way again when Deck Nine revealed they would be continuing Max Caulfield's story with Life is Strange: Double Exposure. Though I enjoyed the first game well enough, I felt as if the ensuing titles that both Don't Nod and Deck Nine worked on--such as Life is Strange 2, Life is Strange: True Colors, and Tell Me Why--explored more interesting topics and boasted more compelling protagonists. To me, Max always felt a bit overshadowed by those around her--characters with intense flaws and strong personalities that drove the game's plot and imbued emotion into the story. And after playing Life is Strange: Double Exposure, and despite having high hopes that it might persuade me, I unfortunately still feel the same.

In Life is Strange: Double Exposure, Max once again feels only as interesting as the characters surrounding her, making her a driving force that isn't particularly compelling and a fairly flat protagonist. Even as the game explores her grief following the loss of Chloe (either via a painful fall-out or her death, depending upon your selection) and a new loss that occurs during Double Exposure's opening chapter, Deck Nine stumbles in giving these processes depth and emotional resonance.

Despite this weak thread, Double Exposure is, admittedly, a visually impressive game with some well-executed narrative beats, an interesting twist on gameplay, and some endearing characters. However, it ultimately feels too similar to its predecessor in a few frustrating ways and suffers from inconsistent story quality and writing; this makes for an overall experience that lacks a lot of depth and falls short.

It's incredible that Stalker 2: Heart of Chornobyl even exists. In addition to weathering the COVID-19 pandemic, developer GSC Game World was faced with the Russian invasion of its native Ukraine, kicking off a war that sadly still rages on today. While many GSC staff were able to flee the country, others were unable to, and some even continue to fight for their country on the war's frontlines. Amidst the terrifying sound of air-raid sirens and frequent missile attacks, people somehow persevered, continuing to work on the game at home in between volunteer work, all while suffering the loss of beloved friends, colleagues, family members, and pets. Even those who left Ukraine and began working at a new office in Prague weren't free of turbulence. Countless Russian cyberattacks, leaked builds, and even a fire that destroyed the studio's server room have all occurred over the past couple of years.

Yet, despite all of this, Stalker 2 is here. Its release is nothing short of a miraculous achievement and a testament to the people who fought tooth and nail to reach this point in the face of unimaginable hardships. The game that emerged from such horrifying events is one that boldly sticks to the studio's vision of a seamless open-world survival shooter, which the series has always strived to be. It's rough around the edges and uncompromising in a way that is sometimes off-putting. Yet the series' emergent gameplay remains intact and is further complemented by a fascinating setting and the most accomplished combat in the series so far. It doesn't reinvent the wheel, and at times it feels like you're playing a game straight out of 2010, but that's part of its charm and feeds into what makes Stalker 2 the quintessential Stalker experience.

If you're unfamiliar with GSC's post-apocalyptic world, each game takes place in an alternate version of the Chornobyl Exclusion Zone. Following the historical reactor meltdown of 1986, several laboratories were established in the surrounding area and began conducting various experiments. This led to a fictional second disaster in 2006 that mutated local plant and animal life and created phenomena known as anomalies. These strange, almost-supernatural occurrences cause valuable artifacts to appear, each containing unique and unexplainable properties. Stalkers come to the Zone in search of personal enrichment by recovering these artifacts, but they're not the only people who inhabit this irradiated area. Various factions exist within the Zone, from paramilitary organizations to groups of scientists seeking to understand the Zone, along with myriad bandits, religious fanatics, and outlaws who prefer to shoot first and ask questions later.

You really can't understate how historically important Dragon Quest III is. This is not just any JRPG--to players in Japan, it's the defining JRPG, a game that set sales records and truly made Dragon Quest an inextricable part of Japanese pop culture. To this day, it's recognized and referenced in all manner of media, and its wild success is the subject of both nostalgic fascination and urban legends.

With such a pedigree behind it, it's no surprise that Square Enix has seen fit to re-release Dragon Quest III numerous times, with this HD-2D Remake edition being the latest--and also the most lavish--to date. Logic dictates that a game like this deserves a red-carpet treatment. But unlike Final Fantasy, which is no stranger to changing things up in its recent sequels and remakes, the old-fashioned elements of Dragon Quest's gameplay remain untouched no matter what.

Of course, the biggest deal about this remake--which its very title proudly proclaims--is the use of Square Enix's HD-2D visual style. Previous HD-2D games like Octopath Traveler, Triangle Strategy, and the Live A Live remake have established a strong visual identity, using 2D sprites, 3D backgrounds, and scrolling and perspective tricks to create an ornate and cinematic style that makes them stand out.

Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. As The Nightmare neared, her face covered in chipped porcelain and her presence like shrill static, these four words became a chant. The Paranoid--one of the many personas inhabiting the hero's too-full head--was the one uttering it, a reminder to the other voices in this malformed vessel that it was now up to them to perform what were once autonomous functions. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. The words were a pulse; the singular thread tethering this body to this plane of existence. But as The Nightmare grew closer, the desperate thrumming faded to silence. And then, the thin thread snapped.

In Slay the Princess, however, death is only the beginning: the start of a time loop that nearly always resolves in mutually-assured destruction. But despite the horrors you endure and the promise of death--repeatedly and oftentimes brutally--the game begins with a small, strange note: This is a love story. And as a love story, a horrific visual novel, and a work of narrative-driven psychological fiction, Slay the Princess is remarkable. The Pristine Cut further polishes this gem of a game, adding more depth and replayability to an already-brilliant title that is abundant with introspection, poetic (and often humorous) writing, stellar voice acting, and memorable art and music. Though there are still a few rough spots--namely some of its audio mixing and its UX design on consoles--Slay the Princess is a beautiful experience, brimming with emotion and cleverness.

The premise is simple enough and explained by both its name and its exposition: "You're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path, is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her." Naturally, this raises a lot of questions: Why does she need to die? Why am I the one killing her? What is the motive of the person instructing you to do this? As the protagonist's primary, guiding voice, it is up to you to explore the dozen or so prompts that emerge as each new piece of information is brought to light. Your every response and action--or lack thereof--determines and alters the path laid before the hero, as well as the many other voices that join you in guiding him as successive loops unfold.