Nate Schmidt's Game [Experiences] of the Year

Nate Schmidt, Contributing Editor

In a time of year when we spend so much mental energy ranking things, I don’t see why it’s so important that we always talk about games in their totality. Why does the whole game have to impress me in order for it to be meaningful? Instead of haplessly trying to parse out which games were better than all the other ones that came out in 2023, I’d like to invite you to take a little turn through the garden of memorable experiences. Here are a few snapshots of moments that delighted me last year, of little game elements that needled their way through my brain and took up residence in my chest. Instead of taking this list as a commercial enterprise—oooh, Nate liked this game, so I should buy it—I’d encourage you to use this as an opportunity to make your own comparable list. In this frequently terrible world, we have the joy of play: what delighted you?

These things delighted me:

Physics Simulations that Are Also Cars for No Particular Reason

Trackmania Turbo, screenshot by the author.

Let me get this out of the way first: I have absolutely no interest in cars or in driving, and I hate games that model realistic racing physics. If a car in a realistic racing sim does not handle exactly like my 2007 Prius, I will flail and fishtail and fly off the road, over and over again. Hot Wheels, on the other hand…Hot Wheels are just a good excuse to roll things around, some of those things may happen to be shaped like cars (or not). Before this year, I had forgotten how much I love the Trackmania series, which basically puts you behind the wheel of a Hot Wheels car and sends you on a time-trial journey across a series of increasingly convoluted and preposterous Rube-Goldbergian driving experiences; one series of tracks is literally called “Rollercoaster Lagoon.” I got way back into Trackmania Turbo this year, and the game would be no different if the character sprite was a bowling ball or a cheese wheel, because nothing really matters besides mastering the game’s own twisted inner sense of physics. The same could be said, I would argue, for Rocket League, the only good free-to-play game. You’re a car, not a ball, only because it would be too confusing to have multiple balls on the field. And because rocket cars are cool as hell.

Weird Little Guys Who Do Their Own Thing

Gris, screenshot by the author.

Who doesn’t love weird little guys? My first introduction to characters who were neither NPCs nor enemies but just fun little dudes doing their own thing was in Nifflas’s incredible, understated Knytt series. Any time a game reminds me of Knytt, I am bound to be charmed. The Knytt-like game I played this year with the most fun little guys in it was Nomada Studio’s Gris. Gris, my friends, is as gorgeous as two-dimensional platformers get. I could not stop myself from taking screenshots; every new scene was like walking through a panoramic collaboration between Paul Klee and Erté. The world of the game felt most real, though, when I would go past a bird or a fish or a forest creature that was just…there. Moving around, minding its business, neither background nor foreground, totally unconcerned about my presence in its space. Moments like these bring the experience of looking into the eyes of a wild animal indoors. Even though its world is much more dangerous than that of Gris, I can’t help noting that the trope of the weird little guy also achieves its apotheosis in this year’s best television show, Scavengers Reign.

Understated Storytelling

Armored Core IV: Fires of Rubicon, screenshot by the author.

Look, I’m not breaking any new ground when I say that the writers and developers at FromSoft have mastered the art of environmental storytelling. What can I say? I continue to be impressed! The way Armored Core VI showcases the political intrigue on Rubicon leaves just enough to the player’s imagination in the most satisfying possible way. I’m even saying this as a person who bounced off Balteus, the first major chapter-ending boss, and kind of gave up: I have such a rich inner image of Handler Walter, based on such a small handful of auditory and visual cues. The fact that there is super hot fan art of Walter also probably helps, but I am still so amazed at the ways in which Armored Core VI manages to put an entire political universe into a handful of black-and-white icons, giving the player’s imagination just enough room to run free in its depiction of extraction capitalism and its miseries.

Hamfisted Storytelling

Diablo IV, screenshot by the author.

Oh, Diablo IV. I think it might be the stupidest game. I do not totally mean that as an insult; I just feel like it activates the stupidest part of my brain, the part with an inner monologue that goes, “Dum-de-dum-dum, smash crash, har-har-har, found a shiny.” I know that the story is supposed to have complicated twists and turns in which the true natures of angels and demons and what have you are revealed, but I am too busy thumping and smacking my way through hordes of goofy monsters to pay any attention. I still have not gotten to the end of the main quest, but I am also still delighted by the way my character seems to believe that every obstacle can be overcome by grunting at it for long enough. If the narrative in Armored Core VI were served on a dinner plate, it would be molecular gastronomy; the narrative in Diablo IV is a five-gallon tub of theater popcorn, or that barrel of Sam’s Club cheese balls. Praise the creator, Lilith: we live in a world where we get to have both.