There’s one particular feeling I associate with a game being an all-time great. It’s a feeling that comes after you already know that it’s a classic, to be fair – after putting tens or possibly hundreds of hours into something. I haven’t played a game that’s triggered that feeling in a couple of years. But Balatro gets to join that illustrious list.
It’s that feeling of getting ready to begin the Suicide Mission in Mass Effect 2; of watching the last great large-scale Street Fighter 4 tournament. Of finally reaching the top of the ‘endless staircase’ in Peach’s Castle, hitting GTA5‘s massive end-game choice as Franklin, or watching Sheik reveal their true identity. They all trigger a gut-punch of a feeling: this is the end. And then the realization: I don’t want this to be over.
Most of the time, this feeling is attached to heavily story-driven games. I think it usually only comes about at some nebulous axis of story and gameplay – where both are at some impossible-seeming level of formulaic perfection that alters something in the brain chemistry. The end result is the bonkers sentiment that finishing a game and being done with it feels like a loss, and ultimately offers up the varied and powerful emotions that come with that.
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