I once had a friend describe Katamari Damacy to me as a "cool uncle game"--a statement I found hilarious considering the person who introduced me to the series was, in fact, my cool uncle. What he meant by this, though, was that while the Katamari series has never quite reached a point of true, mainstream popularity, it's certainly managed to foster a cult following of fans who adore its peculiarity--fans who revel in absurd concepts like "rolling up the world," and seemingly always have some niche-yet-utterly-engrossing New Thing to show you. A fanbase of "cool uncles," if you will.

Though I can't claim to be an uncle and certainly won't claim to be cool, after playing Once Upon a Katamari, I am eager and ready to join their ranks. The newest entry in Bandai Namco's nonsensical action-puzzle series has converted me from a Katamari appreciator to a Katamari fan. Once Upon a Katamari is a joyous return for the long-stagnant series, bringing with it small tweaks that make moment-to-moment gameplay more fun and lead to a number of clever levels. A tighter narrative, more engaging overworld, customization features, and updated visuals help set the game apart from its predecessors, while its playful writing and whimsical nature retain that distinctly Katamari feel. While Once Upon a Katamari might stumble a bit when it comes to innovating, the end result is a highly polished (and fun) new entry in the Katamari series.

Once Upon a Katamari kicks off the way these things so often do: with our beloved King of the Cosmos doing something tremendously stupid. During one of the royal family's much-needed cleaning days, the King of the Cosmos stumbles upon a peculiar scroll. What ensues is an embarrassingly relatable sequence of events, as the king grows distracted by the scroll, decides he'd rather be doing literally anything other than cleaning, and ultimately ends up hurling the object into space after using it as a baton. Naturally, this action winds up destroying the entirety of the cosmos, prompting the king to recruit you, The Prince, to help fix this even larger mess.

Zen Buddhist monk and personal hero of mine, Thich Nhat Hanh, spent much of his life writing about mindfulness. He stressed that when we do anything, we should commit to it fully, giving it our undivided attention and allowing ourselves to become immersed in it, be it simply eating, walking, or anything else. "Drink your tea slowly and reverently," he said, "as if it is the axis on which the earth revolves--slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future."

Like its predecessor, PowerWash Simulator 2 is a stage on which one can play out Thich Nhat Hanh's message. The simple pleasures of washing away the grime from dozens of walls, floors, cars, and couches act like an on-ramp to a flow state. For a while, I let the sequel wash over me, giving it my entire being and enjoying it thoroughly. But long before I sprayed away the last patch of mildew, I was back to my old ways, multitasking my way through a game that asks of me more patience and attention than I was willing to give it.

PowerWash Simulator 2 is exactly what it sounds like, though if you haven't played the first game, its title alone may not make it apparent why it can be so much fun. In this first-person job sim from FuturLab, you'll live out a career as a powerwasher, taking on nearly 40 jobs in solo play, split-screen, or online multiplayer with other soapy experts. You'll begin with a few simple tools--hoses with different nozzles that provide a range of spraying intensities and patterns, almost like an arsenal of guns in a traditional shooter. In essence, this is a shooter, but rather than zombies or Nazis, your targets are buildings, furnishings, and vehicles absolutely blanketed in filth, with each mission ending when you've completely cleansed the area of its grime.

Using Ryu Hayabusa's signature Flying Swallow attack, I leap into a crowd of enemies, slicing a daemon's head off with a clean strike before turning to the rest. As rapid combos transition into powerful Izuna Drops, Guillotine Throws, and charged-up Ultimate Techniques, I deflect and counter incoming attacks, lop off numerous limbs, and spill gallons of blood in the most exhilarating and stylish way imaginable. Co-developed by Team Ninja and Platinum Games, Ninja Gaiden 4 revives the character-action staple by nailing the fundamentals of the series' high-octane combat and then iterating on it in a number of interesting and exciting ways. It feels distinctly like Team Ninja's Ninja Gaiden, but Platinum's DNA is also undeniably present, making for a thrilling sequel that's well worth the decade-long wait.

Set in a near-future Tokyo, the once bustling city now lies deserted, blanketed by a perpetual downpour of miasma caused by the skeletal husk of the Dark Dragon looming over it. Ryu might've defeated the Divine Dragon God before, but peace can't be achieved until this cursed rain is stopped, kicking off a quest to resurrect the Dark Dragon and defeat it once and for all. For the majority of this adventure, you play as a new protagonist named Yakumo, a young ninja from the shadowy Raven Clan. He's stoic and broody, and emotes far more than Ryu ever has, but like the rest of the series, Ninja Gaiden 4 struggles to tell a compelling story.

Yakumo has a team in his ear, adding some texture during moments of downtime as they chat about the state of the world and establish the stakes. This offers a new perspective on the world of ninja clans, but they're a one-dimensional bunch, and the narrative is still relatively light. Yakumo and Ryu are at odds with one another, despite ostensibly sharing the same goal, but this thread is paper-thin, and Ryu's section is disappointingly inconsequential. There are some pacing issues, too, including a stretch where the story grinds to a halt for three chapters as you chase after an interdimensional shark. It's not unexpected, but Ninja Gaiden 4 tells the sort of tale you'll likely forget about once the final credits have rolled.

Keeper is strange. This may seem unsurprising given that it's the latest game from developer Double Fine, which has for years carried itself with a distinct oddball identity, but Keeper is unusual even by the studio's standards. It doesn't fit cleanly into a traditional genre, and at some points feels more like a prestige art project. But this is also Double Fine at its most uncompromising, and the experience is better for it.

The closest analog for Keeper is 2012's Journey--the two games share a wordless approach to narrative, an emphasis on movement that is at times slow and deliberate and at others joyfully fluid and fast, and even the seeming objective of making your way to a distant mountaintop. But that comparison feels reductive, because whereas Journey is a straightforward parable, Keeper keeps evolving, reinventing itself and its themes, and going to unexpected places. While you can quickly size up and understand the basic contours of Journey's world, the world of Keeper feels more alien, and the natural order of it isn't always clear.

Let's back up. Keeper begins when a lighthouse shines its light to save a bird from an encroaching swarm of parasitic darkness. The lighthouse itself topples, snapping into pieces, but then reforms itself and grows a tripod of spindly, wobbly legs. You play through these awkward first steps, frequently face-planting--does a lighthouse have a face?--as you learn how to move around the world.

Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines has always held a special place in my heart for many reasons, but certainly the most prominent is this: It was the first time I remember playing a game and thinking, "Wow, I am absolutely too young to be playing this."

I was 11 years old when I took my first stroll down the streets of Bloodline's Santa Monica--when I clumsily WASD'd my way through rooms filled with empty pill bottles, condom wrappers, and other bits of paraphernalia that I can only recall with an accompanying blush. I was too young (and timid!) to be sucking on necks, canoodling with the scantily-clad Jeanette, and traversing the Ocean House Hotel's utterly horrifying floorplan. And yet, I loved it. I loved knowing games could be... this: dark, mature, and wicked.

Alongside 2002's Neverwinter Nights, Bloodlines turned me into a die-hard fan of both TTRPGs and CRPGs in equal measure. So, needless to say, you can count me among the thousands of us who have been waiting--impatiently and a bit nervously--for Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines 2.