Recent reviews by sad times

I doubt any dissenters to the notion that video games are ostensibly a form of art exist within the video game hoi polloi anymore. To those self aggrandizing cultural stalwarts who are - I present to you Jotun, the latest in an exponentially increasing list of beautifully crafted indie darlings that strengthen the art argument just about monthly.
Jotun's story is that of our heroine, a viking woman named Thora, who's life ends unceremoniously in a storm. Unable to ascend unto the halls of Valhalla, Thora must garner the reverence of the Norse gods to secure her rightful place in Asgard, all the while revealing the story of her life in pieces along the way. Thora's life is fraught with Shakespearean tragedy, told in a fashion which is somehow both autobiographical and eulogistic. Developer Thunder Lotus Games out of Montreal couples this with a hauningly minimalist landscape and score, and has created a deeply moving experience.
The gameplay of Jotun is deceptively simple. There are no enemies besides the bosses which the player only encounters by gathering the necessary runes from their respective area. Exploring these areas was an incredibly joyous experience for a very unique reason; the area maps are purposefully vague and do not show your location. The game remedies this in very realistic ways like zooming the camera out when you're on high ground, giving you a better lay of the land and forcing the player to navigate using a form of dead reckoning. Not all will find this as endearing as I did, but I found it added a layer of realism and difficulty to getting around and, at the very least, gives you a much better appreciation of the level design. Boss battles are the classic "notice a pattern and counter accordingly, using the abilities you've acquired thus far" but, in practice, are not so patronizingly easy and in fact can be quite the opposite.
Jotun is everything from beautiful to terrifying to heartbreakingly tragic. The gameplay, art style, and score are resonant and powerful, and the difficulty and learning curve are just right, meaning Jotun feels something like the perfect mix of Dark Souls, Shadow of the Colossus, and Transistor. Jotun could benefit from a length increase, but then again, so could most artsy indie games, and even though I found it's unique take on navigation to be charming, there was a definite need for a mini map, as I found myself pressing start just about every 2 minutes to look at it. Jotun is a fun game that is presented well enough to make you feel feelings and think thoughts which, at the end of the day, is a definition of art. Don't expect Jotun to change the way video games are perceived tomorrow, but absolutely include it in the list of games that will change that perception in a few years.

This sophomore effort from the developers at Supergiant Games brings another isometric platformer to the table; one which, like its spiritual predecessor Bastion (2011), emphasizes storytelling through dynamic narration, a vivid color palette, and a powerful soundtrack. Rather than appearing as a sequel, Transistor differs enough from Bastion to feel as though it isn't a copy of the original. Aesthetically, Transistor is far more dystopian. Existing in a futuristic city slowly ripping itself apart by a robotic menace built by a political faction, the target of a failed assassination ploy makes her way through the vacated metropolis with her titular companion/weapon/narrator searching for the members of the organization responsible. Equal parts cyberpunk graphic novel and soul/funk/surf rock opera, Transistor featured some of the most unique visuals I've experienced in a video game in some time, and the best original soundtrack at least since Bastion. Darren Korb again in the studio churning out some seriously emotional tracks for the game, and the option to buy the digital soundtrack alongside the game is just absolutey necessary.
The way in which Transistor evolves the most from its predecessor is in the battle system. While Bastion was fundamentally an action RPG, with ranged and melee weapons to choose from and slay with, Transistor only uses one weapon, the Transistor, a computerized sword with memory slots that can be filled with the digitized essenses of those who've fallen prey to its blade. Each personality translates to a specific move based on their essense (for example, a slain contact sports athlete becomes a move brimming with kinetic energy, causing major damage, and a cunning siren type can change enemies loyalties to your own), and each of these moves can be used as a primary attack, can be used to alter an existing attack, or can be used as a passive trait. With over 15 of these available, there are a multitude of possibilities. Unfortunately, the game does a poor job at explaining how this all works, and I didn't really figure it all out until about four or five hours in.
The folks at Supergiant Games certainly perfected the genre they invented in Transistor. Unlike Bastion, Transistor makes an effort to move away from the fantastic and towards the earthly. The antagonists reek of tenacious humanity bent not on destruction, but on recognition, gratitude, and resolve from their own complacency. If you're looking for a bad guy to totally hate, you will be disappointed. More mature than Bastion, Transistor may take a little longer to figure out, but is more emotionally rewarding. The lack of any explanation of a fairly unique and complicated battle system may be my only criticism, and the length would be if not for its replayability. Do yourself a favor and buy the soundtrack along with the game, Transistor is a standout work of art in an era where games are frequently elevated to that level.