Since we're talking about games from 2024 that did something really well, for me, one game stood out above the rest (and it's also a game I remember playing this year that was actually released this year – sorry, Resident Evil 4 Remake, my The Brain Forgot You released in 2023!). Astro Bot made me feel good this year. Sure, other games had more touching stories and characters, but as someone who obviously loves video games a lot, Sony's PS5 nostalgia fest cut straight through whatever part of my brain processes joy. And let's face it, that part has been used less and less in recent years.
I've owned every PlayStation system since the platform burst onto the scene 30 years ago: I make seven consoles and two handhelds, plus a few upgrades. However, despite that level of fanboy ownership, I never thought I had much of an emotional connection to Sony's console. Don't be mad, but if I were forced to choose the game brands I like the most, I would choose Sega and Xbox. I asked you not to be angry. Sega was everything when I was a young lad and Xbox presented an exciting new future for gaming at the time I ventured into my career. PlayStation was just the cool console in the middle, so I thought. I made a mistake.
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I've long believed that my love for retro games isn't about the games themselves, but the way they transport you back in time. In the spare room/office I work from at home, the first thing I see when I walk in is a beautiful boxed copy of Sonic the Hedgehog on the Sega Mega Drive. I can't say I'm desperate to play it, but every time I look at it, I'm reminded of the kind of boundless joy that's reserved only for kids these days. I felt that once, I remember. Late at night trying to defeat Robotnik: My brother, cousin and I left the Mega Drive on overnight so as not to lose our progress. Better times, perhaps. Simpler times, no doubt.
Astro Bot has received criticism for being a big advertisement that you have to pay for, a cynical way for Sony to reach an audience that loves the PlayStation. I have no problem with people thinking that (I personally don't understand the popularity of Animal Crossing, if we share bad opinions). I just don't care. Maybe I should look deeper into it and feel deeply ashamed of myself, but I just don't want to.
From a gameplay perspective, Astro Bot is top notch. Mechanically it's super tight (if not as ripe for god-level mastery as some of the 3D Mario games), the levels are bursting with creativity, and it's a treat for the eyes and ears. It's brilliant. But it's not just a game. It's a portal, like my copy of Sonic the Hedgehog, it's a gateway to another time. There was a lot of talk about the classic Bot characters you collect throughout the game, and these are great, entering the interactive hub/museum once you find them. But there is one moment that affected me more than anything else.
I won't spoil it completely, but towards the end of Astro's adventure, the game shifts gears and you find yourself in a 3D homage to the classic shm'ups, the side-scrolling shooters of the past. During this sequence, a moment stands out with the original PlayStation boot jingle playing. I honestly don't know what it was about this tune, playing right now, at the end of a glorious journey through my own gaming history, but my eyes started to water.
Video games mean a lot to me, more than most would expect. I have built my entire working life around them, my career dedicated to celebrating the best and highlighting the worst. As a job, it's as tiring and exhausting, sometimes maddening, as any other, and it's easy to lose sight of why I chose this path all those years ago. Just for a moment in the early hours of the night, a soft light from the DualSense painted the room with an ethereal glow, I was 12 again and it was incredible. That's why I love Astro Bot and I guess I love PlayStation too.