No single reviewer could play through all eight of Star Wars: The Old Republic's unique storylines, and even the most dedicated players have only seen a fraction of what the game has to offer after its first month. Even if a person could do all this, the game will change significantly with the addition of content patches. MMO reviews maintain their relevancy for only a very short period of time. I took an interview with a BioWare representative while writing this to talk about the upcoming 1.1 content patch just to ensure that this review is as up-to-date as possible. Even then, it won't be long before the next patch comes along -- tweaking existing systems and adding entire new ones.

The game that exists right now is a well-designed MMO, but players unfamiliar with the genre might find themselves lost as the game does very little to reach out to them. The fine details of its mechanics are poorly explained and difficult to figure out. That said, if you're willing to put in the work (and sometimes it does feel like work) TOR will provide hundreds of hours of satisfying game time for MMO fans of all kinds. The Old Republic offers something for everyone, whether you prefer to spend your time logged-in killing other players, cooperating with allies, or simply questing solo.

If the impending conclusion to the NFL season is giving you a case of the crazy eyes, it might be a good idea to take your aggression out on NFL Blitz, EA's addition to (formerly) Midway's hyperviolent football series. This downloadable title features the same frantic action that fans of the franchise have loved for the past decade -- seriously, the exact same action. It's so faithful that playing it takes me back to the halcyon days of 1998 when we had dial-up internet, a Clinton in the White House, and Chumbawamba had a bright future ahead of them. The only thing missing from this iteration is the post play grab-assing which allowed you to brawl for a few moments before the play selection screen reappeared. Evidently the NFL didn't want their sport -- which is built upon the pillars of violence -- to be marred by such behavior. Minutia aside, fans of the original home or arcade versions of NFL Blitz will be pleased to know that this current outing does the series justice.

The basic game is still a fast paced, violently simplified take on the Sunday tradition, and this downloadable entry surprises with an impressive level of polish. The HUD and transition effects -- things too often ignored -- get presented with a certain sheen and flourish that enhances even the simplest menu navigation. Likewise, the announcers have just enough wit to keep me from muting my television -- which is a rarity for sports games. While the core mechanics of the game may be carried over from the late '90s, the presentation makes it clear that this is a Blitz for today's gamer. This fact is further pronounced in the plethora of different modes. The Blitz Gauntlet charges you with climbing a ladder of opponents similar to how you would in a classic Mortal Kombat title. Every few victories against NFL teams rewards you with a Boss Fight: four quarters against a squad comprised of hot dogs, Neanderthals, and other assorted macho warriors. These specific matches take a page from NBA Jam by adorning the field with various power-ups, making the games even more frantic.

I have exactly one complaint about Pushmo, the delectable puzzler that landed on Nintendo's 3DS eShop over the holidays with no fanfare whatsoever. Hmm, no, come to think of it, I have two complaints. The first is that its tutorial sequences are maddeningly hand-holdy. It's a simple game with simple rules, but Pushmo stretches them across more than a dozen levels of glacial progress interrupted by constant chatter. The first time I played the game, I nearly gave up on it in irritation before making my way through the initial stages; my patience for excessively didactic video game intros has diminished to a value rapidly approaching zero. But I came back to the game the next morning, powered through the tedium, and eventually found one of the finest puzzle platform games I've ever witnessed.

My other complaint? Like I said, Pushmo showed up on the eShop with no real warning of its incipient arrival or indication of its stunning quality. A game like this should be a highlight of the 3DS lineup: a cheap, fun, wonderfully designed piece of software offering dozens upon dozens of hours of addictive play and the ability to create and swap player creations at will. Pushmo is fantastic, but you'd never know it if your awareness of Nintendo's top-tier games is based on what the company bothers to promote. Pushmo has accumulated a fair amount of buzz in social media through simple word-of-mouth -- which is what caused me to take a second glance at the game -- but "cross your fingers and hope people like it enough to talk about it in glowing terms on Twitter" isn't really the most compelling promotional tactic Nintendo could have adopted.

Six months after the launch of the Nintendo eShop, only a trickle of 3DSWare titles populate the storefront's digital shelves. I guess that's better than taking the same approach as DSiWare; Nintendo's first misstep into the world of downloadable games consisting mostly of poorly ported cell phone games and meager applications. For better or worse, the current drought of 3D downloadable games doesn't hurt the eShop thanks to the sheer variety of what's available -- gamers can choose from a selection of Virtual Console games, a few 3D Classics, DSiWare gems like Shantae: Risky's Revenge, or get their early 3DS buyer's compensation via 20 free games gifted to members of Nintendo's Ambassador program. While there's plenty to download and play, I find the limited number of games specifically designed for 3DS disturbing.

Then again, If more titles of Mighty Switch Force's caliber are the reward for patiently waiting on 3DSWare releases, consider me a changed man who's learned the value of waiting. The latest entry in developer WayForward's downloadable series of Mighty titles -- following DSiWare-only games Mighty Flip Champs and Mighty Milky Way -- Mighty Switch Force is a puzzle platformer that tasks the player with rounding up escape criminals known as the Hooligan Sisters through 16 stages (referred to in the game as "incidents"). Each level requires finding the location of all five hidden Sisters through exploration, platforming, and the use of a special switch ability: A mechanic that's signaled by a siren on protagonist Officer Patricia Wagon's hat and allows the player to switch specific blocks between the foreground and background of the stage -- creating makeshift platforms or even launch pads to help her hop to out-of-reach areas.

There are those rare moments in gaming when a product looks so good that you find yourself doing an immediate double take to make sure that your eyes don't deceive you. Believe me when I say that you will experience this sensation every time you load up Trine 2 -- Frozenbyte's stunning sequel to their 2009 puzzle-platfomer. Pick any given screenshot from this downloadable title, and you have yourself a portrait of high fantasy worthy of being displayed. With 3D games expanding their graphical prowess via polished minutia, I still find myself consistently wowed by 2011's gorgeous 2D gems like Outland, Rayman Origins, and now Trine 2.

Trine 2's fantasy vibe has a fun, unpretentious feel that evokes the loving tongue-in-cheek mannerisms that David Bowie exhibited in Labyrinth. Much like in the original Trine, you command a trio of adventurers who navigate a fantastical world in a classic rightward direction. Each of the three heroes have a distinct playstyle unto themselves: The Knight is adept at combat and can smash through heavy obstacles; the Thief can freeze enemies from a distance and use her grappling hook on certain surfaces; and the Wizard can conjure blocks and interact with the environment via telekinesis. You can switch between the three characters at any time -- and switch you will. This isn't a game where you pick a class and stick with it throughout the duration of the quest, as you'll quickly realize that each member of the fellowship is essential for completing every level. This is most apparent in the great multiplayer mode, which allows three people to roam the world together simultaneously. Gathering a pair of buddies and huddling around the television is a refreshing throwback to the days when single-system multiplayer was a norm in gaming.

Few games get as many second chances as APB, but then again, even fewer games start off with a premise so promising that I actually want to give them a third or fourth chance. I probably just can't get my head around how someone could start with "massive multiplayer cops & robbers graced with the most outrageously versatile character editor ever," and somehow end up with a game that sucks. Now I know how a computer made of explodium feels after Captain Kirk hits it with a bulls***ty paradox. It's just impossible to accept -- no matter how many times I fire the game up just to make sure I didn't somehow imagine the whole lousy reality of it.

So, if you're just catching up with the game and somehow missed the backstory: Realtime Worlds and O.G. Grand Theft Auto guy David Jones had this idea for a GTA-ish MMO where progress is based on actual skill and reflexes rather than making your numbers bigger based on how much time you'd blown killing skeletons or whatever. The gaming world collectively flipped its s*** because this is nothing short of a truly excellent idea we've all been waiting for pretty much ever since God invented computers. Then development ran long; craptons of money were spent; the game finally made its debut; was received with a resounding "meh"; and Realtime Worlds went bankrupt.

The Adventures of Tintin: The Game is meant for kids; just make sure those kids are rabble-rousing hellspawn who deserve to be punished in cruel and unusual ways. Of course, this was to be expected -- no release of a high-profile adventure film is complete without a quick cash-grab of a video game. This turns out to be one of the few situations where Tintin completely delivers on exactly what you expected. The main story mode claims to follow the plot of the film, but the cut-scenes are so incomprehensible that it fails to spoil the plot whatsoever. From what I could piece together, you play as the titular journalist and his nautical comrade Captain Haddock. You spend time journeying through exotic locals and engaging in hijinks fit for a Eurasian buddy comedy. Think of it as a childish Indiana Jones with slightly fewer Nazis.

The game puts players through a handful of scenarios that repeat themselves over the course of the longest two and a half hours you'll ever spend. Discovering each of the five game types feels akin to Dante Alighieri experiencing new circles of suffering. The opening chapter gets billed as an "adventure" segment where you wander down the static corridors of a bazaar until the game seems to arbitrarily cut to a cinematic that signals your completion. The game's loose definition of the word "adventure" becomes indicative of the other surprises it has in store for the player throughout the duration.

In a season riddled with life-changing mega-sequels, Corpse Party couldn't have arrived at a worse time -- especially on a platform so ravaged by the deadly tag team of piracy and disinterest. With its distinctly fan-made presentation and digital-only availability, XSEED's latest isn't going to turn heads like the Uncharteds and Modern Warfares of the world; though, in the case of Corpse Party, this lack of attention just might be for the best. While most of our modern gaming blockbusters seek to offer either awkwardly bloodless violence for the sake of the coveted catch-all Teen rating or Bruckheimer-esque glorification of combat, the folks at Team GrisGris obviously didn't suffer under these same publisher pressures. Corpse Party doesn't seek to cast the widest net possible with a series of escapist power fantasies that gently nudge players down a path of rewards; from the outset, the game wears its heartlessness on its sleeve, dispatching characters in ways that have yet to debut in your nightmares (but soon will). This glorified visual novel may resemble a B-tier Super Nintendo game on the surface, but nothing else I've played over the past 25 years has been so relentlessly brutal, bleak, and terrifying.

Though Corpse Party looks like an ancient JRPG, trappings like hit points, an inventory, and tile-based movement only exist as lip service; the "game" portions of Corpse Party act solely as a conduit for the narrative. Like Phoenix Wright and 999, Corpse Party is a visual novel, though it looks and plays decidedly more "gamey" than other entries in the genre. Instead of transitioning from static scene to static scene from a first-person perspective -- typical of the genre -- the game employs 2D sprites and an overhead perspective, providing players with a more familiar means of input. And since you're tasked with controlling a group of defenseless teens, combat simply isn't an option; the few foes found in the game most often kill with a single touch, making their presence more disturbing than any turn-based ghost battles ever could.

Upon finishing my first battle in Infinity Blade II, I was gravely concerned that developer Chair Entertainment had inadvertently created a parody of the original game's conceit, and that I was trapped in another endless loop of the same gameplay I'd so fully exhausted a year ago. I was dead wrong. It doesn't take long for this follow-up to the poster child for iPhone gaming to show its stuff and set it apart from its predecessor as a worthy sequel.

The first Infinity Blade was often rightly summed up as "Punch-Out!! with swords," though I could be heard to argue that the fighting system offered more depth than that description implied. That depth was easy to miss, however, as you could easily charge through the game never even using mechanics like the parry system. Infinity Blade II fixes that from the very beginning; by augmenting said parry system, better explaining it, and offering substantial incentive for using it in battles.

Fishing games are one of the bigger portions in the routine school lunch that is the Wii library. Realistic ones, unrealistic ones, some with controller shells to add to your pile of Wii accessories... and at the tail end of the system's life, they keep coming. XSeed's Fishing Resort, developed by Prope (Let's Tap) tries to spice things up by letting you do some things that aren't just fishing, and they do add a cute Japanese touch to an otherwise bland genre, but it still has trouble standing out.

The point of Fishing Resort is to let you do whatever you want -- as long as it's related to fishing. Your customized character arrives at the Hotel Fishing Resort and, after a control tutorial, can either keep fishing, take a run down the shore, or go back to the hotel and sign up for special events. Don't expect a Skyrim level of freedom, though -- you're bounded by all sorts of paths and walls, and you still need to keep fishing and be good at it. The game opens up bit by bit, and in a couple of in-game days, you can freely check out of the hotel and visit the neighboring resort, and many more all across the island are unlocked as you build your collection of catches.

Fortune Street stands as one of the best video board games I've ever played. It's far more traditional (read: "Monopoly-like") in feel than the likes of Culdcept Saga, but as an old-fashioned board game concept rendered as a video game it's hard to top. However, Fortune Street brings with it a single significant caveat: If you don't like board games and don't have a few friends who share your enthusiasm for the medium, there's really nothing here for you.

Sure, you can play Fortune Street solo, but you won't enjoy it. Not for lack of effort on the developers' part, though; the game sells on the strength of its Mario and Dragon Quest cameos, and those really come to the fore when playing the single-player game. Each CPU-controlled opponent burbles with a constant stream of unique dialogue to liven things up. Mario characters like Toad and Peach riff on their one-dimensional in-game personalities, while the Dragon Quest crew carry forward their various whimsical personalities (Slime makes lots of puns on the words goo and ooze, while Platypunk talks like a wiseguy gangster in reference to Rocket Slime) from the recent DQ localizations. The problem is that after a few rounds of this, you'll have seen all the dialogue and will no longer care.

I interviewed John Romero, one of the co-creators of Doom and Quake, a few months ago. I asked him what games he was playing, and he didn't include a modern shooter in his answer. I asked why and he replied, "[Modern shooters,] they're really slow. Like Gears is crazy slow 'cause you're just a bullet sponge. They've altered the FPS paradigm to something I'm not even interested in playing. I don't want to be a bullet shield; I want to be skillful, nimble, and fast." The school of shooter design that Romero helped create with Doom and Quake is all but gone from the gaming scene. Its passing seems to have gone unnoticed by the world at large. After all, we're all having a blast with our Call of Duty-clones and RPG-hybrid moral choice simulators.

Serious Sam 3: Before First Encounter is a game that requires you to be skillful, nimble, and fast. It's a revival and a natural extension of a Doom-style breed of shooter that was left in the dust bin by most designers over a decade ago. You won't find an overwrought story, regenerating health, or RPG-lite skill progression here. Serious Sam 3 is the anti-Deus Ex, the anti-Modern Warfare, and it's damn fun.

Jeremy Parish, Editor-in-Chief: Stop me if you've heard this one before: Nintendo releases a sequel to a big-name franchise for the 2011 holiday season. It's very well made, and it's a lot of fun, but you just can't shake the feeling that you've seen it all before -- that Nintendo, the company that has made its swimming pools of money in recent years with terms like "blue ocean" and "disruptive design" is playing it uncharacteristically safe. First was Super Mario 3D Land, then The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword; now we have Mario Kart 7, which seems to have its eyes set on the been-there-done-that prize.

Familiar is not the same thing as bad, of course. On the contrary, MK7 is leagues better than its predecessor, the deeply disappointing Mario Kart Wii. Nintendo has dialed back all the design flaws that made MKWii such a bracing letdown: The hyperactive party-game feel has been toned down, and even on the upper-level 150cc courses you're much less likely to have victory snatched away at the last second by yet another Blue Shell. MK7 feels far better balanced in favor of fairness (rewarding skill) rather than "fun" (based on random luck and chaos).

In a day where matches can't seem to be won without the use of some crazy comeback mechanic, one has to wonder what happened to all the real honest fighting games. I miss the days when you're down to your last sliver of life, and nothing was going to save you except flawless execution and the will to win. While we've seen some old classics come back on XBLA/PSN, for the most part I had given up hope on ever seeing a game that didn't have some gameplay mechanic that resulted in easy-mode comebacks.

That is, until I laid my hands on King of Fighters XIII.

Minecraft, one might have noticed, is kind of a big deal. If you're the sort of person who reads about videogames on the Internet, which seems like a safe assumption, it would have taken a directed force of will to avoid hearing about it by now. So you probably already know that it's a sandbox style game that takes place in a procedurally generated world made up of one-meter blocks that can be mined and crafted to create everything from a simple sod house to a scale replica of the starship Enterprise. Or an automated pooping butt. Or a gigantic mechanical player piano. Or a scale recreation of most of Middle Earth. Or... yeah, the sense of awe at the outrageous feats of engineering players have cobbled together is only eclipsed by the sales of the game itself and the subculture that has sprouted up around it.

Almost two years ago Minecraft went from a weird indie project with a cult following to a million-seller that's still earning nearly $200,000 a day in sales, and that was before the game was officially released. This game that one guy slapped together has now become the nucleus of a massive fandom -- one that just enjoyed its first major convention in Vegas over this past weekend. Hell, some guy made an entire concept album about the game's iconic suicide-bombing creepers. This last Halloween you may have even encountered your first Minecraft costumes in the wild, and when you open your door to see a kid wearing a hand-painted cardboard box creeper mask making that blood curdling "SSSSSsss" sound, there's really nothing to do other than dump the entire candy bowl into their bag while kicking yourself for not being Notch -- who is one can only assume is spending his days swimming like a tophat-wearing duck in an Olympic sized swimming pool filled with Euros.