My Favorite Video Games of 2015

13 min readDec 29, 2015

Despite what my detractors will tell you, I adore video games. When I complain about games, I’m usually upset with big-budget, mass-market games dragging the medium at large towards an unsustainable future of rising budgets and extended development cycles. But games, as a whole? We’re life partners. I’m never leaving games behind and, thanks to the rise of indie games, games will never leave me either.

However, falling in love with indie games has raised a new problem for me: I’m increasingly aware of games that appeal to me but I don’t have time to play them all. While “too many games” is a nice problem to have, as someone who writes about games I feel guilty when a game appeals to me but I don’t play it. Even though I’m hardly a big fish in the video-game-journalism pond, I still feel like my own lack of free time is damaging to everyone in this business who’s looking for an audience.

In making my Game of the Year list, I noticed that every entry I selected in 2015 is either an indie game made by a very small team (often two people or fewer!) or a corporate game that feels right at home with indie games. So indies have yet to completely take over my video game habit, but 2015 is the closest it’s come yet.

Before we begin I should add that, as a WIRED Game|Life contributor, I helped shape WIRED’s list of the best games in 2015 and wrote a few entries myself (see also: WIRED’s Games You Might Have Missed list). Any opinion next to my name on that website is mine and I stand by it, but what follows here are the best games I would have chosen by my lonesome.

10. Oh, Deer!

I have always loathed driving in video games, especially when driving is the video game. Even when I was a kid and the idea of driving a car was legitimate wish fulfillment, I didn’t enjoy it. For me, a driving game is only fun when driving is merely a means to an end. It helps when there’s a story, or even a semblance of a story, to convince me that I must drive a car for a reason other than “go faster than the other cars.” Spy Hunter is a James Bond movie minus the women and alcohol. Grand Theft Auto III is a mafia movie where cars are just a faster way to get to the next mission.

I don’t think Oh, Deer! has any story beyond “go to Grandma’s house.” It’s just a driving game in the vein of Sega’s Out Run only it’s weird. Weird on purpose, that is. And that’s enough to circumvent my misgivings regarding its genre and make me love it. It helps that the controls and physics in Oh, Deer! are unrealistic. I’ve never drifted a car in real life, but I’m positive it doesn’t work the way it does in Oh, Dear!

(sidebar: I don’t understand the quest for “realism” in driving games. I drive a real car almost every day. Real cars are boring. And if a driving game looks too real, the fact that I’m not actually moving creates dissonance. Give me abstract over real any day.)

Ready for the bad news? If you don’t own a PlayStation Vita with Oh, Deer! already installed on it, you can’t play it. But Necrosoft’s Brandon Sheffield has expressed a desire to do more with the game in the future (the title screen says “alpha”) and I hope he makes it work. Because I never actually made it to Grandma’s.

9. Nova-111

Taking turns in video games is under-appreciated. I get it: no one likes waiting for the computer to go, and sitting idle while watching your character take a beating on screen is frustrating. But when done right, taking turns allows for more thoughtful play.

Nova-111 is a turn-based PixelJunk Shooter. That’s not quite fair to Funktronic Labs, a studio founded by Q-Games veterans with experience working on PixelJunk games, but the resemblance is strong: there’s a tiny spaceship exploring caverns on a planet and rescuing lost scientists.

What makes Nova-111 different is the tactical element: instead of free movement, there’s a visible grid, and for every move the player makes, the aliens respond. The response is immediate, however, so there’s no waiting. And certain elements in the game ignore the turn counter, which can be very dangerous in tight quarters.

To put it another way: Nova-111 is Shiren the Wanderer minus the roguelike randomness. Every level is designed, every enemy is waiting in a particular place. Plus there’s lasers and Science (with a capital S) and not so much dying. I liked it when I saw it at BitSummit in 2014 and I still like it today.

8. Titan Souls

Titan Souls is a remarkable game cursed with a most unremarkable name; it sounds like a fake title Ice-T could rattle off on Law & Order SVU like “Assassin’s Duty” or “Final Quest.” Which is a shame because it’s such an elegant idea: nothing but one-hit-kill boss battles.

The hero of Titan Souls has a bow & arrow — singular. The “titans” vary in size and shape and can kill the hero in any number of ways, but it still only takes one hit from the hero’s arrow to kill them. It makes for a very fair fight, and even though successive deaths can be discouraging (these fights get tough in a hurry), the absolute rush of nailing that perfect shot makes it all worth it.

Titan Souls makes each battle into a puzzle: what is the trick to beating this monster? Only instead of whittling down a giant lifebar with repeated attacks like so many other action games, Titan Souls just asks players to get it right once. I appreciate games that don’t waste my time.

*Castle in the Darkness* image via Matt Kap

6. Castle in Darkness/Xeodrifter (tie)

2015 was a good year for Metroid and Castlevania fans, even if there was nothing but bad news re: Metroid and Castlevania. I don’t know why Nintendo and Konami, respectively, have abandoned those series but I’m grateful that indies are working double-time to pick up the slack.

Castle in the Darkness and Xeodrifter were two of the better Metroidvanias in 2015. Both have nice pixel art and keep things simple: no XP and no leveling. There are pickups to facilitate offense and defense, but standing in one place and killing enemies won’t help.

Castle in the Darkness, definitely the more Castlevania of the two games, has an inventory but it’s limited to weapons, armor, and magic. Uses and attack ranges vary, so it’s not just a matter of using the strongest weapon until a replacement is found. Xeodrifter has generic weapons upgrades that players can assign to separate categories. Want more power? Faster shots? Wider spread? Your choice.

Both games are tough, but CitD is especially challenging given its size, limited save points, and instant-death spikes. Xeodrifter is a smaller adventure: there are only four levels and a single “boss” monster that gradually gets stronger in each encounter. I enjoyed both, but I was only able to finish the latter. Still, I’d recommend either to anyone like me with an insatiable Metroidvania appetite.

5. Boxboy!

I don’t know how many HAL Laboratory staff members worked on Boxboy!, but it’s oozing with indie charm. It’s an adorable puzzle game set in a monochrome world and starring a box. But what a box! “Qbby” has cute little legs and he can create more boxes. That’s the whole game, but “box that makes boxes” had a lot more applications that I expected.

The initial use for Qbby’s boxes is obvious: put down box, jump on box, reach new height. But Qbby can also carry boxes without setting them down. Boxes can shield him from hazards. Boxes can trigger switches. Multiple boxes can be strung together into shapes, with the caveat that each stage has limits on how many boxes can be made.

Qbby never gains new powers, but each level in Boyboy! teaches players new ways to use and refine his existing abilities. Likewise, new obstacles are introduced slowly over time, letting players adjust to each new element before complicating matters and making them think. There’s no difficulty spike, just a gradual curve, and it kept me hooked until the end. I want Boxboy 2. I want Qbby in Smash. I want Super Boxboy Maker.

4. Super Mario Maker

Speak of the devil.

I knew Super Mario Maker would be perfect for me. I’ve long wanted to make games but often struggled with even rudimentary game-making software. I spent hours fumbling with Little Big Planet and failed to make even one-tenth of one level. Whatever its limitations, Super Mario Maker is the first game I’ve ever played where the level editor is not only intuitive but actually entertaining. I can’t say I achieved greatness in 2D level design, but I did (and continue to) publish a few of my own ideas and that’s an achievement unto itself.

So I was hungry for Super Mario Maker and it did not disappoint. Huzzah! What amazes me though, what I never expected, is what Super Mario Maker did for my kids.

I’ve got two young children (this never ceases to surprise me, by the way. Who let me raise human beings? I was a terrible pet owner) and I’ve always encouraged them to play video games. They certainly took to the iPad with enthusiasm, touching and tilting with ease, and my son had some success navigating simple 3D fare like the LEGO games and Knack. But Mario made no sense to him. He understood moving, and jumping, but not moving and jumping. He kept trying to tilt the Wii U gamepad, thinking it would alter Mario’s motion. Instead, he died a lot and went back to the iPad.

Super Mario Maker demystified the art of 2D platform games for my son. I took him to a pre-release demo event, thinking I would play and he would observe. Instead he took control, moving Mario bit by bit, then slipping into edit mode whenever he ran into an obstacle he couldn’t handle. On that first day, that meant erasing nearly every enemy and using trampolines for even small hops. When we got it home, he kept things simple, crafting straightaway levels loaded with power-ups (always using the maximum number allowed) that let him run/bounce to the end with no risks.

Three months later, my son understands Mario now. His levels include flame bars, buzzsaws, and almost always at least one Koopa. By merging discovery, creation, and play, Super Mario Maker let my son teach himself the ins and outs of Mario at his own pace. He might not be ready yet to complete a mainstream Mario challenge, but at the very least he’s played random levels online and done his best. And my much younger daughter has taken up Mario in her own way: by filling the screen with note blocks and then tapping Amiibo on the gamepad.

Whether Nintendo’s kid-friendly, learn-as-you-play approach was designed to breed new customers or not, I couldn’t say. All I know for certain is Super Mario Maker brought me and my kids closer together by acting as a gateway to one of my favorite hobbies. And that’s beautiful.

3. n++

It’s perplexing to me that Dark Souls has become shorthand for “punishing difficulty.” The series has a reputation for being relentless in its approach to teaching players through death. Yet in the bigger picture, that’s what video games have always done, especially in the “old days” when there was the added pressure of limited or no continues.

n++ is a better, purer example of a video game that kills players over and over again in the name of education. n++ has no story, no power-ups, no inventory, and no dodge rolls. n++ has thousands of single-screen levels with one simple goal: reach the door or die. And while not every level is murderously hard to complete, those that are demand players perform with nothing short of perfection.

As with Oh, Deer!, the abstraction of n++ appeals to me. The “ninja” is a literal stick figure. Enemies are random geometric shapes. There’s gold, for some reason, and collecting it is very important. The physics make no sense, but when has walljumping made sense? n++ doesn’t resemble our world, it just asks players to accept its rules and then lets them run wild.

In my entry on WIRED’s Game of the Year list, I (maybe?) coined the portmanteau “frustrilarating” in describing the delicate nature of n++. I’m never going to finish n++. I’m never even going to see two-thirds of what it contains. n++ is an iceberg of superb video game design: it’s very hard and just brushing against the tip was enough to knock me out.

2. Axiom Verge

There’s no dearth of video games, especially indie games, that look older than they are. And as I wrote earlier, there’s plenty of indie game makers stepping forward to fill void left by Nintendo and Konami’s refusal to make more Metroid or Castlevania games. But even in a year with plenty of Metroidvania love, Axiom Verge still blew me away.

Superficially, there’s lots of reasons I fell hard for Axiom Verge: the pixel art, the music, and the so-Metroid-that-Nintendo-must-be-blushing layout are all exactly what I wanted from a video game. The weapons all feel distinct, even if some have such specific uses that I never bothered with them. Having a drill is a fun alternative to firing every gun at every wall in the hopes of finding a secret. And discovering a Bionic Commando-esque grappling arm was pure icing on the cake.

What really makes Axiom Verge special, though, is its overt alienness. Exploring other planets teeming with non-human life is par for the course in many games, but Axiom Verge feels more extra-terrestrial than its peers, Metroid included. The glitches, the robots, and the freakish boss monsters all work together to make the planet Sudra memorably odd — uncomfortable, even. It’s a mysterious world that begs to be explored but never fully explained, even if the in-game text is wordier than it should be.

One last reason I adore Axiom Verge: like the now-classic Cave Story, it was made by one person over the course of five years. Thanks Tom Happ, for everything.

1. Undertale

JRPGs never die. Their popularity has waned outside Japan, but there’s always going to be an audience for Role-Playing Games with world maps, random encounters, and peppy battle music. And even though literal made-in-Japan JRPGs tend to stick to a formula, there have been a number of JRPG-inspired indie games that use or twist that formula to tell all sorts of stories. It’s one of the few genres that allow for copious amounts of text in between action scenes.

I’d played plenty of JRPGs in my day, but it was very easy for me to dismiss Undertale at first glance because I’d been let down by the genre so many times. All too often I’d started a “classic” JRPG only to lost interest after a few hours, so I assumed there wasn’t anything left there for me to experience. But enough people I knew were talking about Undertale on social media (gushing about it, really) that I figured it was worth a look, even with a chance the hype might prove to be hyperbole

Believe the hype. Undertale is profound.

Undertale creator Toby Fox took the framework of a JRPG, scrapped the open world in favor of a defined path, turned “combat” into a series of custom mini-games, and delivered a complete quest that wraps up in less than six hours — positively tiny by genre standards. More importantly, the world of Undertale is stuffed with the most memorable cast of characters I’ve ever seen in a video game. Even random enemies who might only appear once are adorable. And the whole thing is backed by an amazing soundtrack that I bought after hearing just the opening prologue.

All that is great, but what makes Undertale special to me is it lets players choose to play the game as a pacifist. I’ve complained in the past about violence as a crutch in games. We can use this medium to do anything, so why are so many games centered on death and destruction? Even cute games have you stomping on cute enemies to get to the castle for a fight to the finish.

Undertale dodges this bullet by allowing players an option to “spare” every enemy in the game, bosses included. Random monsters still attack so there’s no shortage of “combat,” but by choosing to interact with the monsters in other ways, the entire adventure can be completed without killing anyone — or anything. The story also varies based on these choices, and not in a binary “good” or “bad” way. Combine that with its relatively short length and Undertale is an experience that only gets better via multiple playthroughs. Personally, though, I only killed one monster in Undertale and I regret it so much I can’t imagine going back and killing another (also I am a dad with no time to play video games a second time).

Honorable mentions of games I enjoyed in 2015 but couldn’t fit onto this scientifically selected list of ten games because that’s a magic number:

And lastly, I’d like to add a special thank you to every game developer I met in 2015. Again, I’m a small fish who does this part-time and I don’t get to attend many events, but I’m grateful that I got to spend time with all of you and see your creations. Meeting new people is, hands down, the best thing about video game exhibitions. Your work inspires me and I’m always eager to learn what becomes of every project I get to see, even those that weren’t my cup of tea. My sincere apologies to those I could not write about this year; if I could promote every single game I saw in 2015 I would.