I was initially going to describe Split Fiction as an experience where the devs threw a bunch of shit at a wall to see what sticks, but that doesn’t do it justice. That might be what it feels like from the player’s perspective, as it’s packed with dozens of mechanical and visual ideas wowing in short fifteen to thirty minute bursts, but none are messily implemented.

It’s more accurate to describe Split Fiction as watching a darts champion in their prime and each toss hits the fuckin’ bullseye. That’s not to say I love every world or side story, but a vast majority of them made me smile or loudly go “holy shit.” I don’t know how often I play a video game that makes me go “holy shit” several times per hour, but it certainly isn’t often.

There are plenty of reasons not to love Split Fiction: It’s forgiving, none of the mechanics have depth, and you’ll occasionally wish sections were longer or grew more complicated. You cannot necessarily expect these systems to demand mechanical mastery when you’re on them for less than an hour each, but I did notice that my favorite parts of the game were when I was challenged.

But that’s not really the point and that’s okay. You’re attending a theme park with a best friend, leaping between every roller coaster, yelping and cackling at an absolute treasure trove of magical worlds and absurd mechanics; that’s what Split Fiction is. You’re not supposed to get stuck; your transition between each attraction should be smooth.

Beyond just how fucking stunning this game is to look at, I cannot believe some of the shit Hazelight does with split screen. I think I said “what the fuck” like 15 times in the last hour alone. Easily the best Unreal Engine 5 experience I’ve had and kinda the first time I’ve been really wowed by it.

Split Fiction definitely surpasses It Takes Two in mechanical tightness and variety, but I do prefer how the latter’s dedication to one core narrative idea explores the creativity of limitation. The former absolutely makes up for it by exploring all the different ways it can blow your mind with split screen, though.

So yeah just embrace your childhood joy and jump between each roller coaster and feel like a kid again; play Split Fiction :)

Reggie Fils-Aimé famously said “if it’s not fun, why bother” during Nintendo’s E3 2017 showcase. For some, these have become words to die by. An easy phrase to parrot when the individual faces a system they can't come to terms with. Some see it as a harmless way of saying they don't enjoy what they're playing, but I have never appreciated its implications.

If your definition of “fun” equates to anything you like, this quote probably resonates with you. But I've rarely seen the word used that way, and instead, this obsession with fun’s necessity in games seems more damaging than anything.

“Fun” is fast, approachable, and easy to control. An immediate stoking of the attention span, constant engagement, or a light enjoyment lessened in friction. Some see Dark Souls as unfun due to its slow, heavy movement and methodical combat. Dark Souls 3 is “fun” because it's quicker and lighter; you can roll faster, further, and more often. Nothing is wrong with either approach, yet one is sometimes dismissed.

Not everyone defines the term this way, but I’ve seen it used to debase games with an unconventional design. Traditionally “unfun” foundations have a harder time finding their place in communities who won’t acknowledge its worth unless it’s immediately satisfying. I remember this phrase being used during Death Stranding. It was picked apart, labeled as “unfun” because it’s a package delivery walking simulator. Who wants to be a delivery man, right? Even “walking sim” has become dismissive, used to label things as lesser.

Regardless of Reggie’s intention in the full quote, which specifically emphasizes that games are also a journey, even inviting the player to “open their mind,” that snippet has shifted into a rallying cry for people to do anything but. If something must be “fun” to be worthwhile, and that definition of “fun” is remotely limited, it denies ideas that don't fit under a narrow bracket. It is a quote accompanied by frustrating ignorance.

Not everything needs to be fun. Other artforms aren't seen this way, so why are games different? Is it because they're interactive? Is interactivity meaningless without fun? Art is feeling, and there’s no single feeling a work has to evoke to be successful.

Playing Resident Evil reminded me of my stance on this.

It isn't fun. It's claustrophobic, stressful, and frustrating. No encounter, room, boss, or weapon is traditionally “fun.” It's an unforgiving, labyrinthian puzzle; a constant check of resources where memorizing rooms and locations is vital. Even saving the game is limited to a resource, one I often found myself without and had to make huge stretches of progress knowing one mistake could send me back an hour.

Bosses are a cold, calculated check of your mindfulness towards collecting and preserving as much ammo as possible. You enter a boss room, move only a little, and fire everything you have. They die and you move on. You wasted ammo, and that made progressing more difficult. No part of this balance between figuring out the path forward while wasting as few resources as possible was fun, alongside trying to figure out at what point the player should save.

Yet Resident Evil is enormously good and I’m enamored. I've reversed my tune on the Ink Ribbon system after years of avoiding it in other titles in the franchise. The fear that arises from knowing one mistake can ripple; your decision to not save means you're risking everything, or being too frugal by going nearly an hour without a save, brings rise to an unmatched tension.

Games don’t have to be fun to be worthwhile, successful, or good. Art is too complex, and limiting any medium in this way sucks. It’s not something to be afraid of, either. Fun absolutely rules, but I’m tired of people treating it as a necessity. I’m tired of being seen as lesser when expressing love for old, unconventional, or mechanically complex experiences. I’m tired of new things being inherently better because they’re faster, more fluid, and easier to control. No feeling is worthless and games can accomplish anything. Just keep an open mind, experience it, and vibe. Fun isn’t everything.

If you support that quote and think “that's not what fun is, it's just whether or not you like something,” then that's fine. We can disagree. But I’ve seen people use the requirement of “fun” to shit on non-traditional systems before. People shouldn’t be afraid to say something isn’t fun yet still love it. There's so much more to feel :)

Last year I began revisiting childhood games, finishing the ones I liked well enough and publishing some rough thoughts. Bringing attention to far off memories was wondrous, even when the games held up less-than-excellently. It’s as if I had the power to pluck unfinished dreams from my mind and play them to their conclusion. Finding new ways to appreciate what I once loved, and beating games I never had the patience or skill to, was magical. Writing about them was equally important, as I wouldn’t want them to turn into a loose memory again.

But I’ve been slacking lately, so here’s the next game :)

Disney’s Magical Mirror Starring Mickey Mouse is an absurdly long name. I don’t think I ever knew it was called that. The front cover doesn’t particularly help, as “Magical Mirror” and “Mickey Mouse” are so prominent, especially being the only words in color. Kiddo me called it Magical Mirror so that’s what I will refer to it as in this review.

Anyway, Magical Mirror is a point-and-click adventure inspired by the “Thru The Mirror” Mickey Mouse short from 1936. It involves interacting with environments seen through fixed cameras, collecting key items, and figuring out how to progress through a collection of bizarrely laid out rooms inside a massive castle.

It’s also a joint project between Capcom and Nintendo, which is bewildering; you’d think sticking those two studios in a room during the GameCube Era would result in an absolute classic, but this got dismal reception. IGN gave it a 4.8/10 and it has a 50/100 on Metacritic. Ouch.

But regardless of its awful reception, this inexplicably spoke to me as a kid. It probably helps that it came out when I was like… four years old, although I’m sure I retried it a couple of times during the years that followed. I also operate solely on v i b e s, of which this game has plenty. Sadly, like most things I played during my youth, I never finished it.

Regardless, my attachment to this game is intense. Its toy train section in particular has stuck with me; I recall exploring a kid’s room with wooden blocks making up a little station as a gorgeous orange glow gave it a nostalgic warmth. Stepping through a tiny hole in the wall and seeing another side of a makeshift train station as a miniaturized Mickey Mouse traveled between rooms collecting gold stars sits powerfully in my mind.

I was shocked when I got to that section of the game: All of that is technically here, but it is not present in the ways I remember. If you showed me a YouTube video of that scene, and I wasn’t sure what game I played as a kid, I would have definitively told you “no, that’s not the game.”

At some point between playing this and revisiting it, my memory got generous and filled in massive gaps, making it seem more imaginative. It’s a supremely small part of the world and while the train station is there, the memories I have of exploring an elegant, detailed rendition in third person was complete fantasy. It’s also possible I had a vivid dream expanding upon that part of the game and that’s what my brain decided would become the memory. Who knows!

It’s one of those classic examples of “I remember this looking better.” I typically don’t subscribe to that mindset, as I am a firm believer that old games look phenomenal, but I can’t deny I felt it during the earliest sections of this game. It’s the most I’ve ever been flabbergasted by my own rose-tinted glasses.

But it didn’t take long for me to reach new and unexplored regions of this mirror-realm. There’s a sort of bizarre, difficult-to-parse atmosphere here that speaks to me. I actually think it has an effectively playful adventurousness in its seemingly endless, maze-like mansion. Its several, minimally detailed rooms with few key props are a major vibe.

I loved the clock mechanism room, and I felt cozy stepping outside and seeing the 2D painted town in the background at the top of the tower. That joyous feeling is only enhanced by music full of dreaminess and light-hearted, goofy fun.

But it is not a pleasant game to play. Mickey Mouse takes forever to do anything, and the animations make him feel like he’s doing the Dora the Explorer thing where large pauses are used to try and get the viewer to answer some sort of question. But of course, there is no question, it’s just unnecessarily drawn out.

There's no intrigue to its point-and-click elements. You just move around environments and animations play out with few to no exciting puzzles; it's all very simple. I like its visuals and soundtrack so much that it absolutely saves it, but it's quite boring.

The mini-games are hilariously poor technically but they’re admittedly charming. Flying a toy plane and shooting little pellets at a giant rubber ducky, fireballing barrels rolling towards you, or dancing to a rhythm mini-game as your Mickey Mouse doppelganger does sick dance moves to an admittedly groovy track are all fun in concept. This game just does not have the execution, even if it’s cute to look at.

I like that the little ghost that’s been tormenting Mickey Mouse through the whole game seems genuinely upset when he has to leave. It’s classically wholesome to turn the “villain” into a cute little fella who just wanted to play. Mickey has no hard feelings towards him in the end. It’s very loving and precious :)

Overall, Magical Mirror kinda rules, but it kinda doesn’t. Any vibe-operated individual who doesn't mind a game playing like shit if they have an interesting experience won’t regret their time. I respect this game for its weird little rooms, but I can’t pretend I loved playing it.

Although… I did play it for four hours straight until completion in a single sitting. Impressive considering it’s very easy for other games to lose my attention fast. Dunno! Maybe the game does rule and it’ll grow on me as I forget how it played and remember more of how it looked and sounded.