Last year’s great new Mario and Zelda games reinvigorated two series that seem to have finally found nostalgia for parts of their past they neglected. Super Mario Odyssey, especially, offered a tribute to Super Mario 64 that’s been overdue.

Mixing survival gameplay with a narrative is always a tough task for developers, but it’s one the creators of We Happy Few takes on. I’m 10 hours into their game, which was released yesterday for Xbox One, PS4 and PC, and I’m both charmed and frustrated. The writing is excellent, and the visuals are spectacular, but the clumsy gameplay makes appreciating these things difficult.

In many areas of Nintendo’s crowd-pleasing Super Mario Odyssey, there’s a main goal and a side goal that provides the same amount of reward but presents a greater challenge. It’s my favourite design aspect of the game.

I’m a sucker for Flat Heroes’ simple look and how good it feels to bounce around putting off death, but my favourite part of this minimalist Switch platformer is the moment before the levels actually start.

In what is supposed to be a slow part of the year, I am filling my Nintendo Switch to bursting with new releases and ports.

I’m flying across the country tomorrow and need help keeping calm while I travel. Luckily, the Nintendo Switch has added dozens of exploration-focused titles to distract me, including the 2D Soulslike Salt and Sanctuary. Like Hollow Knight, it’s a game that fares much better on a portable console.

I was sick this week and decided to play Fallout 4 to relax. I’m not 100 per cent on board with Fallout 4 — I find its emphasis on action over roleplaying frustrating — but it’s full of fun characters. One of them, the robotic detective Nick Valentine, isn’t just one of the best character in the game. He’s one of the best in the entire series.

In the game’s 46th hour, I finally got frustrated about a design choice in Hollow Knight. I won’t spoil it in anything but the vaguest terms, but I’m sure anyone who has played enough games can relate.

If I’m commuting on the train and don’t have two hands free to play Switch or 3DS games, I play a mobile game. Usually, it’s Threes, but sometimes another game takes its place. That’s the case now. The new game is Holedown.

I’ve had a Nintendo Switch since its early 2017 launch and have taken 1052 screenshots on it since then. I guess I can’t resist that wonderful camera sound that happens each time I press the screenshot button. That’s can’t be all of it, though. Why am I really doing this?

Whenever I get a crush on someone, I usually secretly add them to whatever game of The Sims I’m currently playing. Despite this being an incredibly weird thing to do, it’s a ritual I’ve followed for years. Normally it doesn’t get so complicated.

Every day, we make decisions about the games we will play and the things we will try to do in them. These days, I’m trying to make choices that are smarter, which I hope is the correct way to classify my decision to only try the jump-rope challenge in Super Mario Odyssey once.

In real life, death is my greatest fear. In video games, I’ll court disaster. When faced with obvious traps or perilous dialog choices, I will run in with reckless abandon. I’m not really sure what this says about me.

I’ve always been curious about hunting sims, mostly because I want to vicariously wander around the woods. I’m excited to check out a recent one that just got ported to the Switch, but right now I can’t decide which character to pick.

The makers of The Division at Ubisoft are doing some unusual things to tie their first game into its upcoming sequel. So far, I’m into it.

When I start a new Ubisoft game for the first time, I don’t immediately play it. No, I find the Ubisoft Club option in the game’s menu, load it up, and start unlocking rewards. The rewards are rarely good and they sometimes imbalance my game, but I can’t help myself.

Playing a preview build of Body of Evidence, I found myself working against the clock to clean up crime scenes and hide dead bodies.

As I meticulously scrubbed blood out of hardwood floors and tabletops, I felt exhilarated to play a role in a situation I hope I never take part in.

Last month, snowy survival game The Long Dark got a new cooking system. Like in real life, it requires timing things just right. I couldn’t pull it off in my last game, as well as in most of my own home cooking.

“Got him!” I exclaimed in a text message to my colleague Kirk Hamilton at 2:33PM on Friday of last week. I’d been fighting a tough boss in the difficult 2D exploration and combat game Hollow Knight. One minute later, horrified, I was sending a follow-up text: “Oh no. Didn’t get him.”