My Favourite Games of 2024: #5–1
I did not initially intend for this second part to come almost two weeks after the first, but if I’m honest, I was lost deep in the world of Dragon Age: The Veilguard for the past week and only just emerged from its blight-riddled cocoon this afternoon. Realistically, it probably deserves to sneak its way onto this list!
But my whole first-time journey with the Dragon Age franchise will get its own piece in the near future. And honestly, the five games I’m about to talk about are just so good, that I’m not sure it deserves to take a spot from any of them. So without further ado…
5. Nine Sols
“We were supposed to survive… why did it end up like this…?”
During a holiday period where I expected to find myself stuck deep in the land of 50+ hour RPGs like Metaphor and Dragon Age, it was actually a Metroidvania that took over nearly the entirety of that break. I had actually played the demo of Nine Sols many years back in a Steam Next Fest, and while I had been impressed by the fluid, satisfying Sekiro-esque combat at the time, I remained skeptical of its ability to offer much substance beyond that. After all, its Taiwanese development team RedCandle Games had a history making atmospheric horror games, but making a 2D Metroidvania game was a bold jump, in an already overcrowded genre. And yet here it is, above Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown on my list, a game which by many is lauded as one of the greatest Metroidvania games ever made. So just how did they do it?
The weakest part of Nine Sols is its exploration, but I wouldn’t necessarily even call it bad. It’s just very standard Metroidvania exploration, and unlike Prince of Persia, which I lauded for introducing new features and perfecting the basics, Nine Sols doesn’t offer anything that stands out from the crowd. But almost every other aspect of the game coalesces together to bring this game right up alongside the genre’s other greats. Immediately, the art style will jump out to you. Nine Sols is entirely hand-drawn, and it absolutely shows. Not just in the backdrops, which you would somewhat expect, but in every single animation both the player and the enemies have. Every frame is gorgeously illustrated, whilst also providing the clarity demanded by the precision combat. RedCandle were also bold in their decision to mix Taoism and far-eastern mythology with cyberpunk for the game’s setting, which the devs themselves have lovingly labelled ‘Taopunk’. Yet not only did they execute on that goal, but they weaved their horror prowess into its fabric in ways that, while initially surprising, only complemented what was an already bold creative choice.
The confidence of RedCandle only continues to be on display when you look at the description of this game on your chosen platform, where they themselves label it as ‘Sekiro-inspired’. Surely, on this promise they couldn’t deliver? Comparing yourself to Sekiro, which many (myself included) have lauded as one of the best combat systems in a video game ever, is a truly audacious move. And yet, both when it comes to the difficulty (f***ing hard), and the fluency of the combat, particularly its core Parry mechanic, it not only hits the mark, but sails over it. It adapts what Sekiro did best, but also stands alone in its own right. Don’t underestimate how difficult translating the brilliance of Sekiro into 2D is. At this point, so many in the genre have tried, but Nine Sols is the first to succeed with truly flying colours. Nowhere is this on better display than in the boss fights, which from a combat perspective, are unsurprisingly magnificent. Unlocking the solution to each can take a while, but once you find yourself in the flow necessary for each battle, everything about Nine Sols just sings.
Because what makes those boss battles truly fantastic, rather than simply an engaging combat challenge, is that Nine Sols, in perhaps its most surprising twist, had me invested in every single member of its cast. Alongside a frankly superb soundtrack, Nine Sols’ narrative takes a little while to get going, but once it hits its stride, I was so deeply engaged with it. Every boss you face has a compelling reason behind their actions, and your main character Yi is constantly reckoning with his role in their ongoing slaughter. Amidst the reassurance of his friends he continues onwards, but as the game reaches its conclusion, you’re left to wonder if you truly did what was best for those you love, and the world around you. I frankly did not expect this game’s narrative to hit for me on that level, and I was so pleasantly surprised when it did. Interestingly, upon reading some Reddit discussions around the game’s story, I found a comment that one of the devs shared, stating that a lot of its themes around existentialism, fear and desperation in the face of impending doom are inspired by Outer Wilds. And once again, if that was their inspiration, I’m impressed by just how well it was done justice. So truly, if you’re a fan of this genre, Nine Sols cannot be missed.
4. Mouthwashing
“I have to believe our worst moments don’t make us monsters.”
To be frank, there’s probably not a lot that can be said about Mouthwashing that isn’t a spoiler. Such is the nature of a densely-packed, narrative-rich game that will only take you a couple of hours to complete. Which is probably good, because I just wrote four paragraphs on Nine Sols, and that’s only supposed to be #5.
At a surface level, this is an atmospheric horror game set on a forgotten ship drifting amongst the stars. It’s got crunchy, PS2 era-style graphics and fantastically creepy sound design that’ll have you constantly on edge. Arguably, its most disappointing moments are its most traditional horror ones: extended set-pieces fleeing the seemingly unavoidable pursuer, for example. But Mouthwashing ultimately isn’t about those, nor does their lack of effectiveness have any weight, at least for me personally, on the ultimate standing of the game.
Because Mouthwashing examines a question seldom touched by this medium, or most media in general: are we defined by our worst moments, doomed never to be free of them?. And often, when that question has been touched in the past, it’s lacked the nuance necessary. It’s a risk not many creatives would take, and why I’m glad the indie scene exists in the way it does today, such that Wrong Organ could commit to delivering us the story they wanted to tell. Even if that story is bleak and uninvititng. I can’t say I eagerly await what they bring us next, because frankly, I did not enjoy playing Mouthwashing. I’m not sure anyone will. But that’s also the very reason it succeeds.
3. Balatro
“Maybe Go Fish is more our speed…”
Balatro might as well be the exact polar opposite of Mouthwashing. There are no thought-provoking vignettes or introspective conversations in sight in Balatro — when you instill it down to its basest elements, this game is simply the literal embodiment of ‘Number Go Up’.
So how exactly did a game that’s ultimately a bunch of mathematical calculations and ‘if’ statements take the world by storm? Well, it’s the packaging around all of that. There are few games, if any, that exist with better ‘game feel’ than Balatro. Every sound effect is packed to the brim with juice, and every visual element designed to entice.
What is even more brilliant is that Balatro assumes so little of the player. You may look at this game on the surface and feel as if you’d need a base understanding of poker hands, but nope, it’s right there in the game for you, always one click away to access. You might think you need a decent level of mathematical prowess, and regret the high school classes you spent daydreaming. And while that may help you reach the higher limits of Balatro could offer you, at a base level, just about anyone will get along fine. Because whether you’re racking up scores in the thousands or the trillions, Balatro will be just as satisfying.
I actually think for many, including myself, their limited hours in Balatro are less down to the quality of the game, and more a check on themselves, knowing just how easily it will get its hooks into you. At 60 hours, I still realistically have more than most, but even I had to pull the brakes, because there’s literally endless amounts of enjoyment on offer. I truly believe that Balatro could be the only game someone played for a lifetime, and they’d still be having just as much fun on their deathbed. It’s distilled both the roguelike genre, and games as a whole, to its basest elements, but done so to perfection.
2. Astro Bot
🎶 ASTRO BOT. AS-TRO BOT. I AM ASTRO BOT. 🎶
The deeper I get into this list, the more I’m realising just how many games I’ve chosen are held aloft by the foundations of simply superb gameplay. 2024 truly was a superb year for the ‘videogame-ass video game’, and Astro Bot stands tall at the height of that. I mentioned the game feel of Balatro above, and somehow, I’m actually now realising that Astro Bot just about rivals, if not surpasses, it.
At its core, Astro Bot is an extremely competent 3D platformer. It may even one of the best we’ve ever seen outside of the Mario series on that front. But what makes it truly great is how every aspect of the game sings in unison with that core platforming to create an experience that’s about as close to perfection as you can get in this medium. Even the DualSense haptics are such a core part of that whole, utilised in a truly special way only Team Asobi has been able to achieve as of yet. On a gameplay front, it oozes creativity, offering new and unexpected powerups with unique mechanics at a surprisingly regular rate, that leave you smiling with childlike glee. Not one of these mechanics ever overstays their welcome however, and each feels tailor-made and tuned to fit tightly into the levels it was designed for. There’s also some genuinely difficult challenges here, indicating a level of maturity and respect from the developers in their desire to cater to as broad a swathe of gamers as popular. I genuinely can’t think of a single level I didn’t enjoy, and there are numerous that I will think about for a very long time.
So, let’s talk about the PlayStation-sized elephant in the room. An elephant which frankly, I’m frustrated exists at all. There’s been a somewhat persistent debate of how corporate this game is, with a core premise of the game being to save Bots dressed up as PlayStation characters from across the console’s 30-year history. On top of that, levels are subtly (and rarely not so subtly) decorated with different varieties of PlayStation symbols. And frankly, I can honestly see the argument. If you wanted to take the most cynical view of Astro Bot possible, you could indeed argue that it is nothing more than an exercise in capitalistic self-congratulation. But I’ve got to be entirely honest when I say that taking such a narrow view of this game is failing to acknowledge the core heart of the people that made it. To me, playing through Astro Bot made it clear that Team Asobi has such a deep love and reverence for the history of PlayStation, both the good and the bad. I find it difficult to argue that the themed Bots are a method of advertising for PlayStation’s other games when half of them reference some of the truly obscure games of yesteryear. I don’t think PlayStation demanded this game to be plastered with its branding, and while I’m sure that they’re happy it was, I fundamentally believe that it’s not the reason this game exists. And even if it is, Astro Bot is so much more than those elements.
1. 1000xRESIST
The world you live in.
I never wanted it to turn out that way.
I should have done better.
We all should have done better, tried harder. Left you something better.
I’ve talked about nine other genuinely fantastic games across these two posts, and yet as soon as I finished 1000xRESIST, I knew in that moment that not one of them could beat it out for top spot. 1000xRESIST is a genuinely special, once-in-a-decade narrative adventure that I firmly believe will stand the test of time, both as an impressively unique piece of sci-fi storytelling, as well as an incredible snapshot of the circumstances of its development. Sunset Visitor is a team of developers based in Vancouver, and made almost entirely of Asian-Canadian diaspora with a background in experimental performing arts. And that unique background is one that could not be more evident in 1000x, bringing a perspective hitherto unseen to an industry that can often feel lacking in innovation. I’m really glad to have seen this game pop up with an increasing prevalence in end of year lists and awards, because I was initially worried about what seemed like the limited reach it had. It deserves all its accolades and more,
I mention the circumstances of its development, because this team came together to make games as a result of Covid, and their inability to engage in their usual creative outputs. As a result, the pandemic and its subsequent global lockdowns are intrinsically etched into the DNA of this game, as inseparable from the game as its very code. Whilst that may cause apprehension to some, the way the pandemic has been weaved into what is an often quite surreal sci-fi world, feels authentic and never once ham-fisted. Similarly, the development of 1000xRESIST took place in the wake of significant protests in Hong Kong, and the game shines a spotlight onto the brutal and uncompromising reality of what that was like for those involved, or even touched by, such events. But again, never once did it feel that representation was inauthentic, or ham-fisted. At times it felt like these experiences were almost directly lifted from the protests themselves, whilst at others the game weaves it into the fictional narrative of the world
And that’s just two themes amidst many that this game has to offer. It’s at times study on family, on loss, on grief, on love, and on one’s ability to change their nature. At others, a commentary on scientific endeavour, class dynamics and living as an immigrant. And amongst that, it’s a deeply existential examination of our universe. But once again, none of these themes feel underexplored or ancillary. They’re all important threads within the special tapestry that makes up 1000xRESIST. I could evangelise this game to no end, and go on and on about so many minute aspects of its world design, or impactful quotes, that we’d be here for days. But I’d rather you simply pick up the game yourself and give it a shot — I can all but guarantee it’ll truly entrance you within no time.
I’ll be honest, writing a little piece for each of these games really tested my existing chops, and was maybe not the best way to ease myself back into blogging. But I’m glad I did it, because I always love talking about games that are special to me in one way or another. There’s a certain joy to Game of the Year lists that I can never truly put my finger on, but I think it has something to do with celebration. In an industry, and a world, that can be feel so negative with such ease, I think I simply enjoy that we all come together at the end of the year to simply celebrate the things we love. So, while the numbers may be arbitrary and the ‘eligibility’ debates excessive, ultimately it’s an exercise in highlighting the games we love and the reasons we love them, and 2024 sure had a lot of that to offer. Here’s to 2025, which I’m sure has plenty of bangers lined up itself.
