I have a few complaints about Aliens: Infestation, Sega's new portable-version-of-Colonial-Marines-but-not-really action shooter for DS. They're pretty trivial complaints, though. Usually, criticisms in a review are meant as caveats: Things to consider before committing to buy a game. Not this time, though. Infestation is a game that any fan of Metroid, Aliens, or classic action games in general should grab. It's a wonderful verse in the DS's swan song. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

No, my complaints are more nit-picky. They're the sort of things I wish I could have brought up during development, because they concern fine details that would turn a great Aliens game into a perfect one. Little elements of pacing, atmosphere, interpreting the source material -- that kind of thing.

I like me some cross-over events in comics but I sure hope this is the last time it shows up in a Spider-Man video game for at least a couple of years. Last year's Spidey adventure was split across various dimensions -- this time around we have a time vortex as the central plot device starring Spider-Man 2099 and Amazing Spider-Man in developer Beenox's latest, Spider-Man Edge of Time. It's a capable superhero action game that demonstrates that the team is getting better at crafting a Spider-Man game, but like most comic-licensed properties there is still room for improvement.

The plot itself is... a little silly. But that's why I like my superhero comics. This game nails the whole "comic book mini-series cross-over event" and Peter David (co-creator of Spider-Man 2099) deserves some props for the story. Each of the Spider-Men are well written and performed just as well with O'Hara's inability to take a joke clashing with Parker's wisecracks throughout the adventure.

I was fortunate enough (and, indeed, old enough) to see a number of the NBA's legends play in person in the '80s and '90s. Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Dr. J, and many others passed through Salt Lake City to take on the Jazz when I was a teenager -- and I saw them all. I was even in the stands for Michael Jordan's title-winning jumpshot over Bryon Russell (he pushed off!) in the 1998 NBA Finals. As a result, I have a pretty deep respect -- reverence even -- for the players who helped shape the NBA. It's nice, then, to see that a video game developer shares this same level of respect... mostly.

Playing the NBA's Greatest mode in NBA 2K12, which gathers together 15 of the league's all-time great players and the complete rosters of more than 30 teams, is a fitting tribute to those basketball gods. Every game is meticulously recreated with era-specific visuals (like a grainy black-and-white presentation for Bill Russell's 1965 Celtics squad) and commentary that informs and entertains about the legend you're playing. The rules are altered to fit the period, and players play the way they did at that point in time. It's almost like a playable museum of NBA history -- the kind of thing you'd relish sharing with your friends online. Except that you can't.

Dark Souls might not be for you. Of course, that's not saying much; thanks to the universal rule of, "there's no accounting for taste," even the most lauded games have their detractors -- and on the same note, altogether crummy productions often earn a devoted cult following. In this wild and wooly world of game reviews, scores don't necessarily apply equally to everyone; one man's "A" for something like Fifa 12 could be an "F" for those who find soccer a terrible waste of time. That said, I have a few questions: Are you patient? Can you devote dozens upon dozens of hours to a single game? Does the thought of unbridled independence fill you with elation rather than abject terror?

If you answered "yes" to any of these questions, it's very likely that you'll agree with this review of Dark Souls. If not, you'll be happy to know that there are literally hundreds of games you'll undoubtedly enjoy much more -- and there's nothing wrong with that.

Rage didn't start out the way I thought it would. My idea of it was mostly based on its initial reveal some years ago: depicting a barren wasteland where people live, drive, and dress in whatever they can find. Just another Mad Max pastiche, right? So imagine my surprise when the game begins inside a cold, angled underground capsule (an "Ark") from a forgotten time in the far-flung future. I guess post-apocalyptic worlds have to start somewhere.

It's a harsh beginning, but Rage doesn't let up from there. After emerging on the surface of the largely-destroyed Earth, you're saved from certain death by a kind-hearted wasteland homesteader named Dan Hagar (voiced by John Goodman, who also played a "Dan" on Roseanne, which was more than enough to keep me from taking this character seriously). Hagar wastes no time in employing your "services" to wipe out a nearby influx of mutants, and perform a few odd jobs around his settlement and the neighbors'. You get the hang of shootin', drivin', and survivin', and eventually learn more about your past as an enhanced human candidate of the "Eden" project, initiated by the oppressive powers of the Authority, who try to keep this crazy world in check... for their own gains, of course.

A friend, who knows my predilections for the Beautiful Game well, once IM'ed me a joke:

"how you you say 'almost' in spanish?"
"Casi?"
"no, 'futbol!' lol"

Objectively speaking, I recognize thatTetris Axis is a pretty good game. At its base level, it's a great game; Tetris has been voted the best game of all time more than once, and for good reason. It's the most fun a person could possibly have with seven geometric shapes (barring some sort of heretofore unpublicized fetish), and testing your reflexes to see how many lines of blocks you can vanquish before they accumulate to the kill line remains as fun as it was 25 years ago. That's the concept at the heart of Axis, and that element remains enjoyable.

Personally speaking, though, Axis is unbearable: A hodgepodge of ideas with no aesthetic consistency. It includes practically every Tetris derivative mini-game to have been pushed out the door by various licensees over the past decade, both good and bad, making it a sort of omnibus. At the same time, the whole thing feels cheap and generic, and there's very little visual consistency from mode to mode. The clip-art-quality graphics vary wildly from gumballs and kittens to surreal space-scapes. One minute you're looking at a Precious Moments painting of Tetriminoes making geometric snow angels, like something straight off an airbrushed T-shirt in an unpopular corner of the carnival; the next you're going head-to-head against obscure Bomberman characters. It feels like the developers were trying to hedge their bets by making Axis a game with something for everyone, but ended up with something much too aimless and slapped-together to appeal to anyone.

It's never acknowledged at any point in X-Men Destiny that you're one of the most powerful mutants to ever appear in the X-Men universe. You can freely swap out abilities and powers at will, setting enemies on fire one second and freezing them the next. It's uncanny... astonishing even (see what I did there?). Yet when you're approached by any of the X-Men or Magneto's Brotherhood, this topic is never breached. You're simply treated as a newb that needs some coaching throughout the game's brief four hour adventure.

My core experience was with Aimi Yoshida, one of three different characters you choose to play as and little is done to differentiate them beyond their introductory cut-scenes. You'll still have access to the same choices of powers and abilities, same levels to traverse, and the same bosses to defeat. Most of the interactions with the X-Men and Brotherhood throughout the game are also the same. And when you're forced to choose a side, it doesn't matter unless you'd rather hear either Cyclops or Magneto give a heavy handed speech at the end of the game. This lack of variety makes the whole concept of having to choose a character at the beginning of the game irrelevant.

Ico and Shadow of the Colossus are two of my favorite games of all time, but I had not so much as touched the pair of them since their initial years of release. Both games completely drained me emotionally, which may be a reason why I haven't revisited them over the past decade. Because of this, I approached The Ico and Shadow of the Colossus Collection for PS3 with the sort of reserved excitement one has before meeting up with a close friend after a long-time spent apart. It's easy to remember the great times you shared, but there's still a lingering uncertainty about how the reunion is going to play out. Did I change? Did they? What if we've both grown past the things we once shared in common?

It turns out I have changed, and so have these two games. But what hasn't is my unadulterated love and admiration for everything they have to offer. Each title is presented with more than just a fresh coat of paint. Credit needs to be given to Bluepoint Games, the team that handled the remastering duties on both titles. Gone are nagging framerate drops and muddled textures that plagued both titles. With these hiccups gone, we're finally allowed to appreciate the stellar art direction without being forced to endure slowdowns. In fact, before the end of their opening cinematics, you'll be so engrossed in the experiences that you'll forget you're playing games that are five and ten years old. This collection is the realization of a pair of singular visions that was beyond the capabilities of their medium at the time.

A major stumbling block in reviewing something like Solatorobo: Red the Hunter is getting over the fact that the game actually exists. Allow me to provide some perspective: fans of PlayStation cult classic Tail Concerto have been waiting more than a decade to see a proper sequel, and somehow developer CyberConnect2 finally freed themselves from their Naruto-based bondage long enough to make a faithful follow-up for the DS. In no way should this story have anything but a happy ending; even a powerful company like Capcom couldn't pull it together and resurrect their own long-dead franchise on a portable system. And, against all odds, XSEED decided to take a risk and release Solatorobo for an English speaking audience? In terms of pure idealism, it's a feelgood story that warms your heart like a rotisserie chicken.

But reviewing something properly necessitates climbing out of your Pollyannaish bubble and facing the cruel specter of reality, as difficult as that may be. So it is with a heavy heart I tell you that I couldn't help but find Solatorobo disappointing; and, to be honest, these feelings didn't stem from absurd expectations as to what a Tail Concerto sequel should be. In fact, the game's most remarkable quality is ultimately its downfall; CyberConnect2 invested so much time in developing the world and characters of Solatorobo that they forgot to give the player interesting things to do. It's easy to see how working on a passion project can blind you to its faults, and that's never been truer than in Solatorobo.

I had an unhealthy obsession with FIFA 11. I put in the kind of hours that a Fox News report on WOW addicts might mention. How could I not? It was the latest in a recent emergence of stellar EA titles that would've fulfilled any diehard soccer/football fan's gaming fantasy. But, for all of its glitz and glamour, fun, and replay value, it felt slightly shallow beneath the surface. Enter FIFA 12; without reinventing the wheel, it brings a sense of gravitas that now elevates the series as a whole.

When I sat down to chat with the game's producer a few months ago, the developers at EA Canada had already been championing FIFA 12's "revolution" for months. They claimed that three new substantial gameplay tweaks -- a visceral physics engine for collisions, an overhauled defending system, and more precise dribbling -- were going to completely change the way you played the game. How right they were.

If you've spent much time in the corporate, work-a-day world, you know that one of the big differences between a great employer and a lesser one is how they approach the concept of "human resources." A good employer takes the term to mean they should provide resources for humans; a bad one takes it as carte blanche to treat humans as resources. As it happens, this is also the biggest fundamental difference between a Pokémon game and the latest Dragon Quest Monsters release, Joker 2. Both revolve around capturing creatures to send into battle, but where Pokémon is all about bonding with your team, Joker treats those monsters as disposable means to an end.

Joker's ultimate goal isn't entirely alien to Pokémon fanatics -- it's all about having the biggest, baddest group of monsters on the battlefield -- but the difference is in how you accomplish that objective. In Pokémon, you bond with your team, raise them up, evolve them, and make them stronger through the power of friendship. Here, your captive creatures are commodities to be exploited. Monsters don't evolve on their own; rather, you fuse them together into new forms, destroying the original creatures in the process. It's almost exactly like demon fusion in a Shin Megami Tensei game, and just as in MegaTen, Joker doesn't even pretend to treat your battle minion as anything but tools to be used and discarded. It's not insignificant that while Pokémon gives you enough PC box slots to keep one of every monster type, Joker offers only 100 slots total in your monster pen -- less than a third of the overall bestiary. You're supposed to use up your creatures in the process of making better ones. They're forgettable. Disposable.

The beauty of Renegade Ops, a downloadable game from the creators of Just Cause 2, is that it manages to capture all the over-the-top action-movie glee of Just Cause 2. But it does it within the confines of a top-down twin-stick shooter saddled with the most hopelessly generic name this side of Counter Strike.

Renegade Ops' special sauce consists of RPG elements, wide-open levels, lots of gloriously destructible stuff, nifty multiplayer, and a control scheme that feels more like a physics-based driving game than a twin-stick shooter. You'll start off bouncing around jungle villages, and plowing recklessly through huts. Sorry, locals! Hopefully some NGOs will be along shortly to help with the reconstruction.

Burnout Crash isn't a very good console game. It's entertaining enough, and I could imagine a smartphone version might monopolize my commute for a few weeks, but I wouldn't have played it on the Xbox 360 or PS3 for more than fifteen minutes if I weren't doing so for work.

Fans of mobile games (myself included) often complain loudly about designers shoehorning hardcore games into touch-control interfaces that don't really suit the gameplay. Burnout Crash is the inverse of that phenomenon: It's a mobile game thrown onto a console, and the experience suffers for it.

Before Kirby: Canvas Curse graced the Nintendo DS, the then-new Japanese handheld was considered largely unproven. Sure, the software library at the time pointed to potential, but none of the DS's dual-screened magic seemed realized until Kirby arrived for the platform. Canvas Curse, a surprising game that deviated greatly from "Kirby conventions" (the ferocious appetite and stealing enemy powers), wowed critics and fans through charming game mechanics and refined stylus-based controls. The success of the DS and its software library didn't happen overnight, but Canvas Curse started the fire, transforming the dubious portable into a relevant investment.

In a surprising case of symmetry, Kirby Mass Attack taps the same vein of creativity and sophistication that made Canvas Curse so appealing, but still manages to do its own thing. Simply put: Mass Attack is a brilliant Kirby game from developer Hal Laboratory. But one that feels bittersweet, as it possibly closes the door on first-party developed DS games. Obviously Mass Attack isn't the last great game for the system, but it's not a stretch to assume that Nintendo's run is officially over as the Japanese publisher looks to the 3DS.