My Top 10s of the 2010s, Part 1: Games

Jack Ford
Jack Ford
Jan 1 · 20 min read

The 2010s represent such a huge portion of my life. At 24 years old, that means this decade encompassed everything from my middle school graduation to my first jobs post-college. I basically grew up and learned who I was in the 2010s.

As a lifelong geek, I’ve spent a lot of time processing my growth and experiences through the media I consume. This series of blogposts is my attempt to summarize my thoughts on the games, movies, shows, and music defined this decade for me. For some of them, it’s a recounting of my personal experience with the art, and for others, it’s a summary of why I think they’re important within the greater context of this decade. And sometimes I just gush about stuff I love.

It’s really long. Good luck!

‪Portal 2‬ (2011)

Anybody that’s talked about video games with me knows how much I love the Portal series. The first Portal was a game that utterly blew me away when I first played it, and taught me how games could tell stories without cutscenes or textboxes, instead creating a carefully curated, immersive experience where the plot is revealed by your environment and how it responds to your actions. As someone who hadn’t thought about game design much by that point, it pretty much melted my brain.

Then Portal 2 came around a few years later, and in my mind, raised the bar for linear first-person storytelling. Leaning more into the comedic side of things this time around rather than the slow-burn horror-thriller undertones of the first game, Portal 2 expanded and improved upon pretty much every aspect of its predecessor. The look and visual style of Aperture Science was updated to feel more modern and sleek (yeah I know it doesn’t really make narrative sense). There were more mechanics, more complex puzzles, more large-scale narrative moments, and quite a few more characters — oh, the characters. From J.K. Simmons’ wonderfully performed Cave Johnson, to the return of Ellen McClain’s dry, sarcastic, singsong A.I. GLaDOS, to Nolan North’s delightfully ridiculous personality cores, Portal 2 has more life in its (often artificial) characters than most AAA releases today. The standout performance, though, is Stephen Merchant as the bumbling, neurotic robot sphere, Wheatley. In my opinion, no character before or since has achieved such a perfect combination of design, animation, and voice. Wheatley feels truly alive, overflowing with personality, and is the highlight of a game full of brilliant design, gameplay, and writing. For that reason and many more, Portal 2 is one of the most important games of my decade, and one of my favorite video games ever.

The Stanley Parable (2013)

What makes The Stanley Parable brilliant is how elegantly it, a video game, skewers video games while also raising insightful questions about them and sincerely celebrating them. I remember playing the original version of the game, an extensive Half-Life 2 mod, back in 2011 and being completely enamored with it. I wanted to find something else out there like it, and yet there just wasn’t anything that fit the bill. Luckily, we soon got an announcement of a longer, more polished standalone experience, and after some hilarious teaser trailers and a completely unique demo that was honestly a brilliant comedy game all on its own, The Stanley Parable was released. It was funny, clever, full of easter eggs and secrets, and at times dark, weird, melancholy, or terrifying. This is a game that obliterates the fourth wall and then mostly pretends it’s still there, occasionally turning straight to you with savage mockery. To say any more would spoil the experience for people who still haven’t played it, but just know: this is not a game for people who have never played a video game before. This is a game for people who already love games. If that sounds like you, then for the Narrator’s sake, go play The Stanley Parable. I, for one, am looking forward to revisiting the game when Galactic Cafe and Crows Crows Crows releases The Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe sometime next year.

(Speaking of Crows Crows Crows, the studio that The Stanley Parable co-creator William Pugh co-founded, if you like this game and have an hour to kill, you should play their short, free game Dr. Langeskov, The Tiger, and the Terribly Cursed Emerald: A Whirlwind Heist. It’s like The Stanley Parable but weirder and with only one ending. It’s really fun.)

Undertale‬ (2015)

How do I talk about this game?

It’s a traditional RPG except when it isn’t. It’s a bullet hell action game sometimes, a series of wacky and/or serious conversations about life and love other times, and more than once a dating sim. Depending on how you play the game, it can be a lesson reconsidering how our everyday actions and habits affect others, or a passionate endorsement for the power of mercy, or a cautionary tale about free will and the existence of evil.

Despite how heavily it leans on genre conventions, despite its relative mechanical simplicity, despite the rather basic art style, Undertale feels like a totally unique, singular experience. It’s funny and heartwarming, sad and terrifying, mysterious and lore-heavy, all driven by unique mechanics that subvert your expectations and challenge your conceptions of what a game can be. The characters are well-designed and -written, full of personality. The story is great and consistently compelling. The gameplay is unusual and at times difficult, yet easy to pick up and lots of fun. The music represents one of the best game soundtracks ever, in my opinion (and the countless covers, arrangements, and remixes online are a testament to that). And somehow, almost the whole thing was made by one person. It’s baffling and incredible.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that I think Undertale is a once-in-a-decade work of art, the kind of thing that emerges seemingly fully-formed and organic, like it has a soul. (If you’ve played the game, no, that was not an intentional reference.) Hamilton is the only other work this decade that struck me with a similar level of power, where it was clear that this wasn’t just something deserving of awards, but a cultural force.

Maybe I’m blowing this waaaaay out of proportion. Maybe when 2030 rolls around, I’ll look back at this and think, “Undertale wasn’t nearly as important or great as I thought.” But today, almost five years since the game’s original release, it stands out to me as something truly special. If you play video games regularly and have played at least one RPG, and also somehow haven’t learned much about Undertale, go play it.

Her Story‬ (2015)

Something I discovered during the 2010s is my love of detective games. Not games like Professor Layton or the Batman Arkham series, where a mystery and “detective work” might drive the plot, but really just act as set dressing rather than proper mechanics (although I love those games, just for different reasons). No, what I mean are games wherein solving a mystery is the game. Gone Home, Tacoma, Return of the Obra Dinn, Outer Wilds – while none of them are explicitly about detectives, they all focus on unraveling a story through exploration, investigation, and the collection of individual details that can be pieces together to form a beginning, middle, and end. It’s this sort of narrative puzzle-solving that brings me more joy and excitement than any other kind of video game storytelling.

Sam Barlow’s Her Story takes this concept to its purest, most natural evolution: a game about sitting at an old police computer and sifting through decades-old interrogation footage to solve… something. Really, the game tells you nothing at the start — not your objective, not who you are, not your abilities, and certainly not the story. The only clue it gives you is a single word, typed into the search bar for the interview clip database: murder.

I know it’s not a game for everyone — such a complete lack of direction can be intimidating, paralyzing, or exhausting. But for me, it’s invigorating. The mystery not just of the story but of the whole experience is thrilling and drives my curiosity wild. This is the kind of game where you really need a pen and notepad to keep track of everything, like an actual detective, and I think that’s really cool. Despite not really having an ending — you just stop playing when you think you understand the mystery and are ready to call it quits — Her Story is one of the most novel and satisfying experiences I had this decade, in video games or otherwise.

(Note: yes, I’m aware of Sam Barlow’s follow-up, Telling Lies, and I’ve played a lot of it. I’ll definitely finish it at some point, but overall I haven’t liked it nearly as much as Her Story. I found that the longer video clips and larger cast take away from the experience for me — it feels less like I’m solving a mystery and more like I’m watching a TV drama. That said, it does expand upon the structure and mechanics of its predecessor in interesting and clever ways, and the writing, acting, and production values are all excellent.)

Dishonored 2 (2016)

A decade ago, or even five years ago, I would not have been interested in a game like Dishonored. Bloody and violent, dark and edgy, with a guy in a terrifying mask carrying a dagger on the cover. I assumed it was an Assassin’s Creed knockoff, or just a game with a pure focus on combat — how many different ways can you kill someone? I didn’t think it could be something thoughtful and nuanced and creative. Yet here I am, having played every game in the series, and I am here to tell you: it is bloody and violent. It is about how many different ways you can kill someone. But not always, and not when I play it.

I chose to put Dishonored 2 on my list because it represents the best (my favorite, really) of a genre I discovered only a few years ago, the immersive sim. Immersive sims come from a long lineage of games that give you the freedom to solve problems and overcome obstacles in pretty much any way you want, given certain constraints. Games like Thief, System Shock, and Deus Ex. Unlike most traditional video games, where you’re given a task and are expected to accomplish it in a certain way — run and jump to the end of this level, shoot this enemy, use this key to open that door —an immersive sim gives you a goal and a set of tools, and says, “figure it out.” It’s unstructured puzzle-solving within a world that feels real and alive.

Immersive sims are built around systems that interact with each other to create unique and unexpected experiences for each player, depending on how they choose to play. A mission in Dishonored might start by telling you there’s a corrupt politician in the way of your re-ascent to the Imperial throne, and that he must be eliminated. Do you kill him, or find a less lethal way of getting him out of the picture? Before that, do you charge into his fortress guns-ablazing, making lots of noise, or do you sneak around through sewer pipes and across rooftops to reach him? Do you kill people that try to stop you along the way, or just incapacitate them? Despite how I’ve been phrasing these options, they’re rarely binary choices. Wanna sneak in? Well, you could get in through the secret sewer entrance, or go through the window on the top floor, or possess a guard and just walk in (oh right, there are superpowers in this game). Wanna take out these guards non-lethally? Well, you could sneak around and choke them out one-by-one, or shoot them with sleep darts from your hand-crossbow, or plant a stun mine on the ceiling and break a glass to get their attention so they walk beneath it. The number of options and amount of freedom Dishonored gives you is astounding.

Dishonored is not a series I would have any interest in playing if killing people was your only option. As with most games that have systems of morality, I always choose to play as peacefully and non-lethally as possible — not just because I’m a goody-two-shoes dork who feels bad about killing fictional people, but because I genuinely find it so much more fun and interesting to think your way past a problem cleverly rather than brute force your way through it.

There were quite a few immersive sims I played this decade, including Deus Ex: Human Revolution, the original Dishonored, the standalone Dishonored 2 story expansion Death of the Outsider, the reboot of Prey (made by Arkane, the same folks behind the Dishonored games), and the roguelike Prey spinoff Mooncrash. There were also plenty of games I played and loved that took heavy inspiration from the immersive sim genre: shooters like Bioshock Infinite and the new Wolfenstein games, RPGs like Fallout and The Outer Worlds, or “walking simulators” like Gone Home. Heck, by some definitions, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild could be considered an immersive sim. But the Dishonored series is what got me into this incredible genre, and Dishonored 2 is a game I’ve played and replayed over and over for its incredible level design and world building, beautiful art direction, excellent sound design and music, compelling story, and just tons of little details and secrets to find. Sure, the morality system is pretty simplistic, and its approach to “mercy” is much darker and more cynical than the likes of Undertale for example, but it’s just so fun to get lost in Karnaca and to creatively think my way out of tough situations. Dishonored 2 is one of my favorite games, and among the games that showed me how empowering and compelling the immersive sim can be.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (2017)

So much has been written about the brilliance of Breath of the Wild by now that it almost feels like an empty gesture to praise it. But really, this game is an incredible feat. It managed to give the Switch a must-have title at launch, redefined and reimagined the most iconic series in all of video games, kept enough of the past games’ spirit to not upset longtime fans, created a gorgeous and gigantic open-world environment that runs great (well, like 90% of the time) on a handheld, and provided an experience that was incredibly high-quality across the board. Playing this iteration of Zelda felt like living in the future, and not just because it has laser robots.

As much as I still love the traditional Zelda experience — more linear, more focused, more comfy and familiar — Breath of the Wild is now my favorite game in the series. Every aspect of it, from the sound design to the art direction to the weather system to the characters you encounter to the climbing and all the different abilities Link has, contributes to making a game world that feels so incredibly alive. If classic Zelda is like a storybook sitting by the fireplace, then Breath of the Wild is like a box of toys sitting in the woods at sunset. And there’s probably an accordion-playing bird nearby. This analogy got out of hand. But whatever! I love this game. It feels timeless, like I’ll be able to come back to it in another ten years, or twenty or thirty, and play it all over again, having nearly as much fun as I did the first time. Nintendo knows their craft like nobody else, and I believe The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is one of the greatest video games ever made, by them or any developer.

What Remains of Edith Finch (2017)

One of my favorite developments in gaming this decade was the arrival of Annapurna Interactive, a publisher that just consistently puts out beautiful, unique gaming experiences. Gorogoa, Florence, Telling Lies, Donut County, Sayonara Wild Hearts, Outer Wilds (we’ll get to this one later) — I may not have outright loved all of them, but each title they publish is one whose existence brings me joy. And I think their first game, Giant Sparrow’s What Remains of Edith Finch, is among the best games of the decade, as well as just one of my personal favorites.

Edith Finch is almost an unclassifiable game. Many have called it a “walking simulator” due to how much of it is spent just walking through the cobbled-together Finch mansion, as well as how much it has in common narratively with the genre’s poster-child, Gone Home, but I don’t think it belongs in that category — the walking segments are too hands-off, and “exploration” of the house is almost entirely linear. Besides, the real meat of the game happens not in the house, but in a series of short vignettes, each telling the story of how one member of the Finch family died, each with its own mechanics. At any given point, you might be flying over a forest as a bird of prey, sailing a ship through a storybook land, or just taking photos. It’s hard to talk about Edith Finch and what makes it special without spoiling so many reveals. This game is an exercise in how narrative and emotion can be directly tied to game mechanics, and a demonstration of how we’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to telling stories through games and interaction.

There are so many other things to praise about this game, though, from the gorgeous art direction and the sheer amount of detail packed into the Finch residence, to the voice performances and Jeff Russo’s phenomenal score. (I actually bought the soundtrack on vinyl this year just to have it. I don’t even own a record player.) Maybe most admirably though, What Remains of Edith Finch dared to do things differently, both in how it tells its story and the kind of story it chooses to tell, and I think it’s a resounding success on all fronts.

‪God of War‬ (2018)

As cool as the initial game reveal was, I was never really interested in playing the new God of War. Ultraviolent, hyper-masculine action games just weren’t my thing, and so the series was one I always glossed over at the game store. But then the game came out, and the reviews were phenomenal, and it looked gorgeous, and eventually I thought what the heck, I’ll give it a shot. At first, I was worried it would be just a fantasy retread of The Last of Us, a game I liked a lot but found lacking in quite a few ways. What I didn’t expect was that this story of a father and son journeying across the world of Norse myth would (in my opinion) improve upon pretty much every aspect of Naughty Dog’s acclaimed father-and-daughter game.

Admittedly, a lot of my preference for God of War over The Last of Us had to do with personal preference — I’d take Scandinavian fantasy over American zombie apocalypse any day, and I found Kratos’ story of growth and redemption to be much more compelling and satisfying than Joel’s story of tragedy and selfishness. But there was so much to love about 2018’s soft reboot of the God of War franchise: combat that immediately felt powerful, engaging, and challenging, gorgeous environments, intricately detailed weapons, armor, and artifacts, a satisfying combination of open-world areas and linear story segments. What stood out the most to me, though, was how the team from Santa Monica Studio presented their narrative. It shared the same level of excellent performances and performance capture as The Last of Us, but never once cut away from the characters. In fact, there are no cuts in God of War at all. Rather than getting a segment of gameplay followed by a cutscene, the two flowed seamlessly into each other. Everything is rendered in-engine in real time, with the camera almost always floating just behind Kratos. Altogether it creates a feeling that you’ve really gone on this journey with Kratos and Atreus, like every step they took is one you took, too. For lack of a better word, it’s immersive. Naughty Dog’s games always felt like movies with segments of gameplay sandwiched inside, whereas God of War feels like an experience, like you’ve stepped into the world of a movie rather than watching one.

I’ve spent a lot of time comparing these two games, which felt necessary because 1) The Last of Us will likely appear on more best-of-the-decade lists, and 2) how God of War compares to and differs from The Last of Us is a big part of how I viewed the game upon first playing it. But all comparisons aside, God of War is just an incredible game. It’s a beautiful story beautifully told, with so much to see and do, amazing performances, fun gameplay, and a killer soundtrack by Bear McCreary to boot. And it’s one of my favorite games ever.

‪Kingdom Hearts III‬ (2019)

Kingdom Hearts is stupid.

Wait. Let me back up.

When I was still in elementary school, I watched my cousins play the original Kingdom Hearts on PlayStation 2. I was immediately enamored with it — this game carried itself like it was the story to end all stories. You know those classic Disney movies you’ve grown up with? The ones with dragons, and pirates, and genies? Those epic tales of fantasy and wonder — those are just chapters in our story.

My exposure to action-adventure stories in video games at that point was basically Mario, Zelda, and Sonic. Super Mario 64 was about as epic as Mario got at that point, and its story was basically just, “dumpy Italian plumber versus big dumpy turtle.” Don’t get me wrong, I loved (and still love!) that game, and those Bowser boss fights did feel epic when I first played them. But the point was, I didn’t play Mario for the story. It was the same with Sonic, although at times the Sonic franchise did take itself more seriously, like in the Adventure games. Mario was fun, but Sonic was cool. Still, I didn’t really play Sonic for the story, either. Then there was Zelda. Ocarina of Time was probably the closest I came to playing a game for the story at that point, but despite the time travel and world-creation stories that helped put Zelda on a more epic scale, it still felt like a retelling of all the classic fairy tales you already knew. It was predictable, which didn’t make it bad, just unsurprising.

Then Kingdom Hearts came along, and everything about it — the mysterious voices, the stained-glass pathways, the shadowy monsters, the hidden door that can’t be opened, the island world torn apart by dark magic, the symbolism of a warrior fighting with a key, or heck, even little details like how the UI looked and sounded more like sci-fi while the rest of the game so far looked like fantasy — sucked me in. It was comprised of elements of things I already loved, yet as a whole felt entirely new. As silly as it all may seem now, Kingdom Hearts was the first video game that made me realize games could tell epic, complex, and unexpected stories.

Kingdom Hearts II came out a few years later, and opened with a six-hour prologue with none of the characters from the first game. It was weird, often boring, and somewhat off-putting, but the whole thing was so unexpected that it still piqued my curiosity and I kept with it. Eventually, after what felt like ages, Sora showed up and the game’s logo appeared onscreen. I had no idea what had happened in those six hours, nor did I understand why Sora was in a cryostasis chamber, but apparently it didn’t matter because neither did he.

As it turns out, there was another game in-between Kingdom Hearts and its sequel, a spinoff on the Gameboy Advance called Chain of Memories. It was a spinoff though, and it had this weird card game mechanic that I couldn’t get into, so I didn’t play it. Surely skipping it wouldn’t matter, right?

Nope. I was wrong, and Kingdom Hearts is stupid.

But honestly, I didn’t much care. I still loved Kingdom Hearts II, and spent countless hours exploring its world, fighting monsters, and upgrading my equipment. I may not have understood the story, but it felt epic and beautiful, and it was all worth it to spend time with these characters that felt like friends to me.

So cut to thirteen years later, and Kingdom Hearts III is finally released. Sure, we got like half a dozen spinoffs for various systems in the meantime, but it’s fine if you skip those, right? They’re just spinoffs!

Again, no. Kingdom Hearts is stupid. The plot is stupid, the naming conventions are confusing, the lore doesn’t always make sense, the Disney worlds are often just set dressing for the real story, and pretty much every installment of the series was released for a different platform: PS2, Gameboy Advance, DS, PSP, Nokia phone(!!!), 3DS, PS4…

But despite it all, Kingdom Hearts remains something special for me. It’s full of fun combat, great animation, amazing music, and a story that, while often nonsensical, exudes relentless optimism. It’s a series about the power of friendship to overcome darkness. Once the HD remake collections were released, I finally got around to playing most of the installments I skipped, including Birth By Sleep and Dream Drop Distance, both of which I loved. With Kingdom Hearts III, we get maybe not the best game in the series, but the one with the best animation, the most dynamic combat, most beautiful visuals, and finally, a return to the adventures of three best friends in Sora, Donald, and Goofy. It just makes me so happy to see them together again.

Kingdom Hearts is probably my favorite video game series. It’s got plenty of flaws, but it means so much to me personally, and there’s enough that I unironically adore about it that I can love it without feeling like I need to make excuses. The arrival of III marks the end of an era for the franchise, as well as the end of a 17-year journey for myself and countless fans worldwide. Was it worth the wait? In my opinion, yes.

‪Outer Wilds‬ (2019)

I’ve already spent quite a lot of time writing about Outer Wilds, and my feelings about the game haven’t changed much since then, except that it’s solidified in my mind as one of my favorite games of all time. Guys, it’s really, really good.

Instead of saying any more about it, I’ll just leave you with the last paragraph from my blogpost on the game, which you can go read if you want (it talks about the experience of playing the game, not really the content of it, so it’s pretty spoiler-free).

Though it sometimes feels like it’s pushing me away, I ultimately feel like Outer Wilds is like a dear friend. Its existence is a gift. Rare is the game that comes along feeling timeless. Breath of the Wild was maybe the last one for me, and before that Undertale. Interestingly, those are also some of the few games I’d call near-perfect. I would not call Outer Wilds perfect. Yet it accomplishes so much so well that it earns a spot among the games I’d call timeless — among the greatest games I’ve ever played.

By the way: no, this is not The Outer Worlds. (Although that game is pretty great too.)


Honorable mentions: Fallout: New Vegas‬, ‪Animal Crossing: New Leaf‬, ‪Fez‬, ‪Gone Home‬, ‪Fire Emblem: Awakening‬‪, Dr. Langeskov The Tiger and The Terribly Cursed Emerald: A Whirlwind Heist, ‪Batman: Arkham City, Batman: Arkham Knight‬, Marvel’s Spider-Man, Super Smash Bros for 3DS, Super Smash Bros Ultimate, Super Mario Odyssey, The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, SteamWorld Heist, Celeste, Ori and the Blind Forest: Definitive Edition, Sonic Mania, Black Mesa, SUPERHOT, Robo Recall, Shovel Knight: Shovel of Hope, Shovel Knight: Specter of Torment, Titanfall 2, Rocket League, Minecraft, Spelltower, Typeshift, Subsurface Circular, Quarantine Circular, Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order, Inside, Rock Band 3 and 4, Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, Super Mario 3D Land, Super Mario 3D World, Batman: The Enemy Within, Journey, BioShock Infinite, The Last of Us, LEGO Marvel Superheroes, LEGO Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Florence, Gorogoa, Untitled Goose Game, Wolfenstein: The New Order, Wolfenstein: The New Colossus, DOOM, Detroit: Become Human, Threes, Super Mario Maker 2, The Room series, Life is Strange, The Awesome Adventures of Captain Spirit, Horizon: Zero Dawn, Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, The Witness, Pokémon GO, Overwatch, Prey, Prey: Mooncrash, Night in the Woods, Hollow Knight, Tetris 99, Tricky Towers, Dishonored, Dishonored: Death of the Outsider, Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Gris, The Talos Principle, Glass Masquerade, Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes, Ratchet and Clank (PS4), What the Golf?

Games I haven’t yet finished: Bloodborne, Control, Fire Emblem: Three Houses, The Banner Saga, Broken Age, 80 Days, Telltale’s The Walking Dead Season 1, Assassin’s Creed IV Black Flag, Assassin’s Creed Syndicate, Starlink: Battle for Atlas, Final Fantasy XV, NieR Automata, Gravity Rush, Hidden Folks, Return of the Obra Dinn, Subnautica, The Outer Worlds, Shadowrun: Dragonfall, Iconoclasts, VA-11 HALL-A, Everything, Yoku’s Island Express, Sayonara Wild Hearts, Superliminal, Detective Grimoire

Games I didn’t play (yet): The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided, Mirror’s Edge Catalyst, Splatoon (2), The Wonderful 101, Persona 5, Lone Echo, Vader Immortal, The Wolf Among Us, Telltale’s The Walking Dead Seasons 2-Final, Stardew Valley, Terraria, Super Mario Galaxy 2, SUPERHOT VR, Asgard’s Wrath, Beat Saber, Until Dawn, Life is Strange 2, Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice, Assassin’s Creed Origins, Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, Pillars of Eternity, LEGO Dimensions, Abzu, No Man’s Sky, The Last Guardian, Gravity Rush 2, Little Nightmares, ARMS, Pyre, Metroid: Samus Returns, The Sexy Brutale, Zero Escape: Zero Time Dilemma, Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair, Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony, Monster Hunter World, Hyrule Warriors, Tetris Effect, Astro Bot Rescue Mission, Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch, A Way Out, Donut County, The Messenger, Octopath Traveler, Moonlighter, Crypt of the Necrodancer, Cadence of Hyrule, Death Stranding, Pokémon Sword and Shield, Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice, Luigi’s Mansion 3, Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night, Disco Elysium, A Plague’s Tale: Innocence, Katana Zero, Shadowrun Returns, Ring Fit Adventure, Dead Cells, Owlboy, Creature in the Well, Armello, Wandersong, Baba Is You, Cuphead, Manifold Garden, Shovel Knight: King of Cards, Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair, Tangle Tower, Infinifactory, Opus Magnum

Jack Ford

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Jack Ford

Writer // game designer // UT Austin '18 film school grad // can almost adequately explain the plot of Kingdom Hearts jackmakesgames.com

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