It's surprising that Plants Vs. Zombies hasn't attracted more imitators. The charming and intuitive strategy game helped make a name for PopCap and spawned a massive franchise including merch, comic books, and interestingly, more competitive team shooters than strategy games. But while it lends itself to comparisons to tower-defense games, its key mechanics are still basically singular to PvZ itself. Plants Vs. Zombies: Replanted brings a nicely modernized facelift to the original game, and while this remaster offers only a few new frills, the game itself is still one of a kind.

For those new to the series, or who have only played the Garden Warfare spin-offs, the core idea of Plants Vs. Zombies is deceptively simple. You're the owner of a house beset by a zombie apocalypse, and your only defense is an army of living plants. You collect sunlight to power your seeds, which you plant across five horizontal rows as zombies approach from the right side. You can plant Sunflowers to generate extra sunlight, and you're constantly juggling priorities as zombies approach from the other lanes. If they reach your plants, they'll chomp down on them and you'll have to replant them, so it's best to keep them from reaching that far at all. As the game continues, it constantly adds new wrinkles, like nighttime levels where you have less access to sunlight and need to rely on fungi, or a pool where you need to plant lilypads for your other offensive plants to sit on. This is alongside a steady stream of new zombie types that demand different configurations of plant defenses.

And the zombies themselves, in this case, are far from threatening. They're goofy and often even kind of cute, with cartoonish affectations like a propeller hat or a disco outfit to signify which type of zombie they are. A zombie with a cone or metal bucket on its head will take more hits before you can knock the cone off and finish it off, a football zombie has heavy defense and also charges more quickly at you, and so on.

The Outer Worlds was Obsidian's gutsy attempt at a spiritual successor to its lauded work on Fallout, but the game couldn't completely hide the developer's roots. The spacefaring retro-future was recognizable as a continuation of Obsidian's earlier game, though it had enough of a distinct setting and its own gameplay systems to feel fresh. The Outer Worlds 2 builds on that sturdy foundation, and while it's largely more of the same, it is also a confident and expansive sequel that suggests a bright future for The Outer Worlds as an ongoing series.

In Outer Worlds 2, you play as "the Commander." Whereas the first game had you play as a random colonist, this new role inherently imbues you with more authority as an Earth Directorate agent. In short, you're a fixer, dispatched to the Arcadia region that's being ripped apart by a factional war, corporate takeovers, and the emergence of rifts that have been cutting the colony off from communications with Earth. From the very beginning, you have your badge and gun, so to speak, along with your own fledgling crew and a spaceship base of operations called the Incognito. Of course, your very first mission goes terribly wrong (as these things tend to) and when you regain consciousness some time later, you set out to find the persons responsible for the botched mission, while also investigating the increasingly dire rift problem. Without getting into spoilers, it's a strong opening that propels the story forward with momentum and mystery.

When you're creating your Commander, you can select a number of different backgrounds like a disgraced gambler, a disgraced professor, a disgraced freelancer, or an ex-convict. You get the sense that most people become agents in the space FBI for lack of other options, except for the Lawbringer background, which is pure and straightforward Lawful Good. I chose Roustabout, which is a friendly way of saying "disgraced idiot."

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.