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Earlier today, Nic covered the full release of Steam Families, a feature which makes it easier for families to share a game library and for parents to manage kids’ purchases and playtime on the digital storefront. It’s a neat improvement over the old system.
Unfortunately I can’t think about anything other than the Steam Families logo, which is pictured above and is clearly a shocked, possibly aghast face. Or so I thought at first. The more I stare at it, the more it seems to reveal.
There are many reasons to play and write about Arco. The Mesoamerican pixelart landscapes, for example – radiant, cloud-hung platters of land with people and buildings reduced to daubs of paint in the foreground. The fact that it’s about witnessing and surviving colonial invasion, rather than the more familiar European or North American video game fantasy of searching a New World for plunder.
The ensemble storytelling, with four, successively playable characters setting their own lenses to thickly entangled themes of sorrow, vengeance and growing understanding. The sparse, expressive dialogue, each phrase carefully tucked inside its speech bubble. The music. And the little things at the level of how you move, what you do. When you pick a faraway destination on your map, your character makes the journey screen by screen, which gives you a second to lean back and be a passenger, watching the horizon, at least until you’re ambushed by a giant beetle.
Oh, S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: Heart of Chornobyl. Mere weeks from release after years of delays, plopped in front of me at a cramped, lightly vibrating Gamescom booth, and you still won’t reveal your secrets. I did get to play a brief whizz through GSC Game World’s eerie FPS – enough to feel encouraged, even – but be it time constraints or the darkness of my nighttime raid into the radioactive Zone, I would have liked to have quite literally seen more.
Then again, keeping the mystery intact may have been the point all along. “As a game director, I want to hide everything from the player”, GSC’s CEO Ievgen Grygorovych had told me minutes earlier. “I’m fighting with the marketing team because they want to show as much as possible!”
Hollowbody’s introduction is masterful, and not just for a sallow skyline that captures the life-sapping dreariness of British coastlines. The horror nous required to impart unease in the middle of the day are somewhat eased up on when you’ve got all that serotonin-begone drizzle to work with, sure. But this feels more poignant than that. There’s a soulful drearines and utterly heartbreaking inevitability to the vibe here, as your character and rubber suited activist pals try to get the bottom of a horrific incident. It’s got best British indie horror film of the year written all over it.
Not enough Microsoft jobs have been splayed and flayed atop the Altar of Growth, so High Priest Spencer must once again perform the Rite of Strategic Repositioning. According to a leaked memo, Microsoft are laying off around 650 people “to organize our business for long term success”. This is the same Microsoft that parted with around 1900 employees in January, and the same Microsoft that washed their hands of around 10,000 staff in January 2023, all in the name of shoring up the business for future prosperity. That “long term success” is certainly taking its sweet time. Or at least, it is if you’re one of the poor saps in the trenches of, in this case, “corporate and supporting functions”.
Sometimes we play video games to plunder the silty depths of our emotions, sometimes we play them to sharpen our wits and try the alchemy of engrossing systems, sometimes we play them to mud-wrestle with questions of power and responsibility, and sometimes we just want to wear cool sunglasses, have big arms, and fly around hitting stuff very hard.
Every man has his breaking point, and mine is the DP motion, aka the D-pad input used to perform Ken’s Shoryuken uppercut in Street Fighter, and moves like it in other fighting games. I’ve never been able to perform it consistently. It’s one of many moderately fiddly moves – written down for posterity in a small tear-stained journal I keep sorrowfully beneath my pillow – which have walled me out of enjoying fighting games, much as I love thinking about them.
That wall grows ever higher as I age and my digits turn to dust and my dreams of launching Ryu like a sack of potatoes fade into the twilight. Still, at least I can still play and have fun with shooters, right? All you have to do in shooters is press a button once to make stuff go boom. Wait, Nightmare Operator, what are you doing? Nightmare Operator, no!
Better check those desert dunes again Caravan SandWitch, someone’s buried the lede. An open world you can explore in a few relaxed evenings? One that favours the joyous freeform sightseeing of an Elden Ring or Breath Of The Wild; where you’ll scramble up vast industrial concrete ruins on scavenging missions for inquisitive frogs, instead of being nagged by bothersome checklists?
Ok, rain check on that last point. SandWitch can’t help but eventually funnel the freedom of ambling around in your chuffy yellow van into restrictive collect-a-thons. Still, for much of its breezy runtime, this one’s a real panacea for gaming’s more bloated map-scourers. Plus, even when you are sent off to hamster-cheek scavenged components before making progress, there’s very little in this world that doesn’t feel intentional. Sidequests and storytelling crumbs are deliberately scattered throughout, and each building is a thoughtful concrete puzzle box. It is, in brief, a nice time.
You play as Sauge, a spacefarer returned to her planet of Cigalo after receiving a distress signal from her missing sister. Cigalo’s a cheery place, though economically and environmentally devastated after being exploited by an evil spacecorp named The Consortium. It’s populated by small settlements of people, some large talking frogs named the Reinetos, and the occasional friendly robot. Everything’s friendly, as it goes – even gravity itself. There’s no danger, no death, no damage from flinging yourself off the tallest building you can find. Just helping out your desert buds, upgrading your van with more gadgets to solve puzzles, or working on finding exactly where Sauge’s sister has go to.
Steam’s family sharing feature Steam Families is now available to everyone on the platform, letting up to six total people share games from a single library, with each individual having access to their own saved games, achievements, and workshop files.
This means that, yes, when you all sit down together in the evening, you can enjoy a hearty family meal in the knowledge that between you, you technically own six copies of the Cities Skylines Big Butt Skinner Balloon.
Each person on the account will have one of two roles: adult or child. Adults can manage parental controls, set hourly or daily playtime limits, approve purchase requests, and control store access. Valve appear very proud of making it easier for parents to spend money, streamlining the “time-consuming” task of buying games for their kids.
There are cold opens and there are freezing ones. Sci-fi roguelike shooter Wild Bastards doesn’t start on its strongest cowboy boot. You are dumped into the middle of an interstellar chase and summarily shown the ropes. The guns feel simplistic, the arenas bare, the loot vanilla, and the entire loop of beaming down to a planet and getting into small-scale “showdowns” threatens to become stale within the first hour or so. But then you find an outlaw buddy who offers a new way to shoot human dirtbags. Then another fellow bandit. And another. By the time your spaceship is half-filled with scoundrels and weirdoes shouting at each other, the game has warmed up enough to reveal its central idea. This ain’t no grand FPS campaign, nor is it quick as roguelikes go. It’s a snacky shootout sim with tumbleweed towns that feels best when you savour the pre-fight suspense.
