It in one part pains me to admit my end-of-year praise (published literally the last day on the calendar) ofPuzzle games in 2020feels far more recent than the three-year gap would otherwise suggest. And while I’m sure many would prefer to associate that specific four-digit denoting of time as one to forget, for me that (shall we say) unusual period of twelve months was one I still managed to look back on with some ounce of fondness. Specifically, because it’s nice to be reminded that for those select genres or niche corners you champion, a moment to highlight doesn’t have to be a one-off occurrence.
So it is that three years have passed and through a combination of preceding hopes and subsequent successes, that feeling of a genre going above and beyond expectations has returned. 2023, simply put, was a brilliant year for the Puzzle genre; I struggle to recount any other year when the amount to invest in has been as vast and as varied. At times, utterly mind-blowing with the caliber of ideas it’s professed. Better still, that the examples offered haven’t all been cut from the same cloth. That the games that will go down as worthy highlights of their respective genre in 2023 have not only been of differing sub-genres and premises, but in some cases, been the debut works by studios and developers.
Pleased as many (myself included) were to finally see the likes of Croteam not only deliver, but arguably exceed the lofty expectations left by their original 2014 marvel viaThe Talos Principlewith the long-anticipatedsequel. So too, that 2023 has been defined equally so, by fresh faces. Sad Owl Studios for one, crafted a one-of-a-kind gameplay mechanic whose intrigue only builds once you finally see it put into practice.Viewfinderfinding that ideal sweet-spot in length without sacrificing ambition to flesh its ideas out. A game that didn’t stick around too long to grow tiresome, but wasn’t too short either to make its mechanics feel less than stellar.
Whether it was the technical marvel of how its image/spatial manipulation concept played out, or how the game expanded on that idea through additional elements and scenarios. Not only was this a terrific debut, it was one of the genre’s – if not one of the overall year’s – ingenious takes on level design as a tool to manipulate, let alone work around. The same can of course be said for a team like Geometric Interactive. And while I might not have showered the game with the same level of praise as many other places, I won’t even deny thatCocoonhas its moments of wow factor. Not least during its latter-third. A fittingly weird and at times subversive spins on its previously-established rules per se. Give me a sequel expanding on that final third Geometric and maybe I too will find myself joining the choir of near-universal acclaim.
But to deny attention to those returning faces would itself be a disservice to this year’s output. As noted, Croteam in The Talos Principle II delivered on a follow-up to their part-puzzle, part-philosophical IP whose brightest spots weren’t so much the puzzles themselves. Enjoyable as they were, with new tools and set-ups to challenge one’s self with. Instead, the biggest surprise was in how well-crafted the narrative and world-building was; Talos II making good on the “what happened next?” scenario its predecessor ended on and this follow-up confidently picks up from. Canonizing one’s work – and accompanying events – in the original as not only true, but fundamental to where the plot and the overall world builds out from. The resulting story is one that’s equally contemplative but best of all, entirely left to the player’s own judgment. Talos leans in neither direction nor holds some bias on one viewpoint over the other. A welcome, mature example of a game and indeed a developer avoiding the allure of current day politics and popular/trending rhetoric.
Even outside the strict limitation of focusing solely on direct sequels, Humanity by LTD and Enhance Games (ofTetris Effectfame) was the kind of game whose almost self-aware acknowledgment of its own ludicrous setting was as praise-worthy as the premise itself. Humanity may have given the impression of a game attempting to invoke a grander meaning or message to its gameplay. Yet as integral the dialogue was to the way the game progressed; it was the puzzle-solving where Humanity’s real evolution and as such, its best moments, could be found. Besides, how can one maintain a straight-face and attachment to the themes of the game when you’re playing as a dog?
Leading a dispensable troupe of similarly nondescript humans Lemmings-style across a series of grid-based stages. Humanity, for all its talk, never shied away from its weirdness. At points, comically subverting the tropes usually attached to such deliveries. Yet it was this humility that lent itself to some terrific eureka-like moments of elation. Not least when you finally deduce the correct command tiles to place, let alone the right timing in doing so, to hoover up all the optional gold idols. In a similar vain to Tetris Effect, Humanity took what many would consider an all-too-familiar concept – the act of unit management and planning accordingly – and gave it a fresh, odd, but ultimately clever twist.
Yet if we truly intend on highlighting a studio taking a seemingly unremarkable, far-from-special, even further from original set-up and creating something remarkable, there’s only one name that stands out. It was what Rundisc gave us this year via the language-deciphering adventures ofChants of Sennaarthat took us by surprise. Not just on the basis of making something as static as translating letters feel far from uneventful. But to do so in a way that made each step of one’s progression feel meaningful and important, even if initially, it felt anything but. Decoding one noun or verb alone is a baffling ordeal. An unfathomable web of foreign lingo and context that would so often make even finding a starting point seem impossible.
But a great example of a game whose best moments of revelation are those you look back on and admittedly think: “…well of course it was that, how and why did I not see that earlier?” Indeed, that Chants of Sennaar can make sentence structure so exciting an objective to see revealed in its fullest nature. An objective that again is not without that same acknowledging of one’s naivety leading up to that eventual unraveling of the truth. Chants of Sennaar didn’t just carve an engaging trial-and-error mechanic, it was also one of those fond reminders that accepting of one’s mistakes (and hopefully learning from them) proved fundamental to progression.
A fitting segue then – the inevitability of learning from one’s mistakes – in mentoring the one game that, for anyone having covered my prior words this year, will have known would show up. Perhaps a touch surprised too that it hasn’t been mentioned yet. So yes, let’s acknowledge the elephant in the Sokoban-themed room: just go playVoid Stranger. Seriously, just do it; as noted in my review of the game last September, not since The Witness has a puzzle game conjured such a potent response of shock and awe. To revel [and ultimately perhaps, get lost] in its rabbit-hole of creative ideas and profound twists alike over and over is just one of developer System Erasure’s talents in Void Stranger.
This is a game that didn’t justexcelin the most fundamental of Puzzle elements – mechanics, execution, eventual progression and scaling of difficulty – but everything around it was surprising too in its relevancy, let alone its very presence. The soundtrack, the story, the overall lore and world-building. Of the ample rug-pulls it managed this year, that a Sokoban game can be considered as housing a great soundtrack and interesting tidbits of lore, is something. It’ll likely be a while before one is fully over being enamored by Void Stranger (and there’s no shame here in confessing that). A game that’s respected because the game itself is respectful of its players’ own wits and line of thinking. So for the meantime, I repeat for the umpteenth time: go play Void Stranger!
Such was the avalanche of great games and releases worthy of highlighting this year, it was only inevitable that there would be those that sadly one could not find time to fully cover. But make no mistake, I eventually found time for such examples. Those both discovered and at times recommended to me as well A game oozing with early-2000’s PS2/Dreamcast energy is an easy way to garner one’s attention, but the best thing about a game likeVividlopewas more to do with how addictive its core loop of gameplay wound up being.
A loop that primarily revolved around painting tiles a certain color, yet whose difficulty stemmed from not just the complexities of its level layouts, but also the unavoidable and inevitable automation of one’s actions. Vividlope was as much a game where stopping one’s self from making amateurish mistakes was just as prevalent and frequent an occurrence. A self-perpetuating loop made possible by the emphasis on patterns, optimal routes and planning well in advance to achieve the highest possible rank. Eventually, refusing to carry on until said rank was finally achieved. But like so many games of the early-2000’s ilk, Vividlope’s whacky, cartoonish demeanor and seemingly simplistic nature lay host to a premise with far more creative and sinisterly-satisfying nuance than initially perceived.
The same can be said for a game like Can of Wormholes. A game that came recommended to me and in any other scenario I’d have been completely oblivious to. Can of Wormholes can fittingly be described as Nokia-branded Snake meets traditional Sokoban block-pushing. Again, one of those scenarios whose oddball introduction initially lends itself to the perception of a game placing greater emphasis on its appearance and its aesthetic, than necessarily the mechanics governing it. It needn’t take long for those prejudices to be proven wrong. Developer Munted Finger doesn’t waste time in smacking the player with another shock, head-scratching conundrum. Before long, it’s not just about moving said worm within a confined space, but manipulating other elements in play. In some cases, elements that go beyond the scope of the stand-alone puzzles themselves. Lest I forget: Can of Wormholes houses one of the best and more thoughtful implementations of an “assist” feature in any Puzzle game. Avoiding the easy route of just giving the answer away and instead, offering a simplified iteration of said puzzle. A means of allowing players a clearer sight of the correct course of action.
It’ll take some doing to beat the past twelve months when it comes to the Puzzle genre in 2024. Be it via individual games – those that can confidently be surmised as new paradigms for what this genre can pull off, both creatively and emotively. Or simply the fact that, across a breadth of ideas, concepts and pitches, the genre has delivered a bevy of high-quality releases from studios old and new alike. But the fact that this genre is being spoken of in such glowing terms is one that puzzle enthusiasts like myself can draw immense satisfaction from.
Review: The Talos Principle II
Mechanically and narratively stimulating throughout, The Talos Principle II is an accomplished follow-up that just might eclipse the 2014 original.
A feeling that’s greater than it was in 2020. In a genre lacking the grander, even mainstream, notoriety that RPGs, Shooters and even Roguelites might invite, it’s welcome to see that the lesser-visible of genres, hasn’t dissuaded developers around the world from continuing to help it flourish. At times, in ways I was even unprepared for. Wherever 2024 may lead us, the past year can easily be considered one of the Puzzle genre’s best periods. A genre that has proven it’s far from growing stale or slowing down anytime soon.
