My non-linear 2020 Game of the Year list

Tim Rattray
11 min readJan 16, 2021

“What a year 2020 was,” I say with the fullest intent of blasé cliché. But staying inside well away from a deadly virus meant ample free time with which I played a comparatively shocking abundance of games. Here are my favorites, as well as four honorable (and dishonorable) mentions, presented in a loosely categorized non-linear format. (And if you want the no-frills list, it’s available at the bottom of the page.)

Where else to start but with the happenstance common theme of many games on this list: the gates of hell. Hades (#7) is an addictive substance with its endless randomized permutations on at-button-click-satisfying hacking and slashing. However, what sets it apart from other quality action roguelikes is its narrative design. Every death advances an ongoing free-flowing narrative that seamlessly molds itself around your travails, tumbles, and triumphs. I’ll never forget seeing Megaera sulking at the bar after besting her for the first time, the moment that I realized the game was truly something special. Even though its magic did eventually bounce off me as such moments grew thinner, Supergiant did groundbreaking work in expanding what a roguelike can be. There’s nothing quite like it on the market, something that can also be said for Monster Train (#6), another roguelike that weaves together deck building and tower defense. Learning to exploit the interplay of building a deck of minions and spells that synergize to fend off waves of onboarding angels is rewarding in and of itself, and the many class pairings means the experimentation never ends. Further, the developers have released consistent content updates since launch, effectively doubling its longevity. While Monster Train isn’t as flashy as Hades, I found myself wanting to regularly return to it more often as its methodical nature fits my pace better.

Sadly, one game I have no desire to return to at all is Doom Eternal. The “give no hecks, go hog-wild” attitude I loved in Doom 2016 is lost in Eternal’s limiting mechanics. Using whatever artillery, I had on hand to blast away demons gave 2016 its euphoric arcade feels, something lost when Eternal’s slew of awesome new tools is made less awesome by their varying effectiveness on different species. For some this change may deepen the gameplay but for me it made the pacing a slog. This isn’t to mention the downtime between levels and a few egregious momentum-stopping enemies that have no place within Doom game design. I know for some these elements were positives but Doom Eternal more looks like Doom than plays like Doom.

Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon 2 is somewhat like Doom Eternal in that it complicates its predecessor’s meat-and-potatoes formula, leaving it lacking that touch of authenticity. Level design is notably weaker to force character gimmicks and the new bosses are unmemorable. I’d say I like the mecha corgi but frankly he’s possibly the greatest offender of gimmickry. Necrobarista has all the makings of a great kinetic visual novel but feels unfinished. The core story is compelling in spite of unwieldy pacing that causes critical moments to not hit right, and a whole slate of characters prominently featured in its opening play minor blink-and-you-miss-it roles that were clearly meant to be more. Plus, the obtuse method of unlocking the well written text-based side stories is unnecessarily frustrating. All this said, it’s still a unique experience that I’d recommend to visual novel fans, or those who like the visual stylings of SHAFT (an overwhelmingly clear influence). Finally, while it stretches the theming of this section, Bugsnax’s turn to “hell” in its final chapter retroactively upends any charm the game had. The Kero Kero Bonito song isn’t quite so fun anymore after playing. Not every cute aesthetic necessitates subversion! That said, we stan Bunger here.

Speaking of cute aesthetics, Animal Crossing (#2) has defined quarantine life for me. I was excited to tears for this game (I literally cried when it was announced in 2019 after years of waiting) yet in a pre-world-ending scenario I would’ve likely been amongst the many who slowly fizzled out. But given the world-ending scenario we find ourselves in, I’ve played the game every day since launch as a means of keeping a daily routine. I talk about its role in quarantine life further in an article I wrote for Switch Player Magazine which I recommend reading as I do the game far better justice there than I possibly could here. There’s otherwise not much I could say about New Horizons that you haven’t already heard other than Stitches is best boy. Also best boy: Astro Bot of Astro’s Playroom (#9). The PlayStation 5’s pack-in is for my money (“free”) the greatest console pack-in of all time. The game is so many things… A platformer on par with Nintendo’s best, a meticulous tribute to the lineage of PlayStation, and a technical showcase that defines what next gen is. Its use of the DualSense’s haptics and adaptive triggers to their fullest extent screams the potential for new levels of immersion that you have to feel to believe. If you’ve heard anyone say the DualSense is the greatest controller of all time, this game is why. The only downside is its short length, but the huge reception Astro’s Playroom has received makes me hopeful that there’ll be more to come.

Next gen was also ushered in by Spider-Man: Miles Morales (#10), which I played alongside the PS5 remaster of the 2018 original. While I did prefer the story of Peter Parker’s work-life-Spidey balance vs. his rogues gallery, Miles Morales brought a refreshing smaller-scale flavor that focused on family, friends and heritage. While his suite of new abilities does make combat markedly easier, they’re damn satisfying and give Miles his own unique identity. You’re otherwise getting more of the same but when it’s playing off what’s already a rock-solid foundation, there was no need to change it up for a midquel. Also, as a note on both Spider-Man games (they use the same map), they bastardized my home turf of Hell’s Kitchen, though I can forgive the crime since the approximations of most other parts of Manhattan are enjoyably more faithful. I find byproducts of downscaling like the Guggenheim and the Met being directly across from each other to be quite funny, but I digress.

In the vein of midquels, 2020 was a fantastic year for expansions. Whereas Fire Emblem: Three Houses was all about the new school, its fourth house campaign Cindered Shadows kicks it old-school with a strict linear story and predetermined class/systems progression. This allows for maps deliberately designed to play to the strengths and weaknesses of a handful of characters the designer knowns you’ll have. It also helps that the new crew sport some of the most interesting classes in the game. It’s precisely the Fire Emblem experience I like most, though it’s over before it begins. Meanwhile, Pokémon Sword & Shield: The Isle of Armor + The Crown Tundra (#8) gave trainers a glimpse into what Pokémon’s future on console could be. Both open areas are arguably the best content available in Gen. 8 with charming quests and legendaries that you form bonds with and have to put in actual effort for rather than lackadaisically catching them as box fodder. Given Game Freak’s reluctance to change their formula, feats like integrating story beats and legendary encounters into an “open world” as well as creating spaces that feel exploratory show that they’re plenty capable of evolving the series. There’s no going back now. (Also, Sephiroth in Smash is everything that is good. Or in his case, evil).

One could also consider Persona 5 Royal (#3) an expansion, though the transformative nature of this second version goes beyond what FES or Golden achieved. The two new characters it introduces are amongst the franchise’s best, and the new final arc is the most nuanced that Persona has ever been. It’s difficult to talk about it without massive spoilers but I continue to think about the moral quandaries it poses, and only the best games manage that, let alone Persona arcs. I’m also partial to the Thieves Den where you can create a museum based around your heart-thieving adventures. The unique character interactions are irresistible fanservice, and its “Tycoon” card game is a far superior version of Clubhouse Games’ “President.” Otherwise, Persona 5 is just a masterpiece that Royal improves in just about every way. Each Persona game since 3 has replaced its predecessor on my top 10 games of all-time list and Royal is no exception. While Animal Crossing takes my #2 slot because of its impact tied specifically to 2020, Persona 5 Royal is my second favorite.

Speaking of anime-adjacent games, 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim (#4) is a masterwork of storytelling techniques only possible through games. The ways in which the thirteen protagonists’ stories intersect and carefully reveal information is perfectly paced no matter what order you view them in, and the orders are infinite. One player’s experience will be different than another’s, even though they ultimately see all the same scenes. There are a lot of ways in which the game achieves this, such as how the same strand of information is revealed in different ways across different arcs. When you receive info a second or third time it serves to reinforce (this makes sure the most players see the important plot points by certain intervals) while also showing another perspective taking place in a different scene and context. Reinforcement is key as the number of plot threads thrown at you with expedience is so immense that multiple forms of exhaustive encyclopedias are available to keep track of it all. It’s frankly miraculous that the game ends up paying them all off and coming a conclusion that’s at all satisfying. On the “gameplay” side, combat is a novel way of portraying mecha battles, utilizing a combination of real-time and turn-based systems. It loses its luster when you figure out a strategy that’ll win you nearly every map (there’s very little variety), but it doesn’t overstay its welcome too long and is a small portion of the experience compared to the main entrée. And I haven’t even mentioned its striking art style yet! If you overlooked 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim, trust me and rectify that.

Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (#5) is very much 13 Sentinel’s opposite. People often scoff at musou games for being button-mashers, but the secret truth is that they’re traditionally actually strategy games, such as the original Hyrule Warriors. The “mashing” only happens after commanding units across a battlefield and swapping between them in a tense bout to gain and/or maintain a foothold on the map. But Age of Calamity is a different beast, instead opting for set pieces with linear objectives. This is a fitting shakeup for a game striving to be cinematic, garnishing each bespoke map with staged battles and mid-level cutscenes. Character movesets are on the aggregate more refined than those in the original Hyrule Warriors, a worthy tradeoff for a smaller roster. I’m mixed on the story in that I didn’t feel I got quite the fulfilling backstory I was hoping for, but it’s plenty enjoyable for what it is once you accept what it is. I got similar vibes off of Moon, a 1997 hidden gem released overseas for the first time in 2020. Billed as an “anti-JRPG,” I expected a world or gameplay inspired by my favorite genre, but the JRPG nature slips away pretty fast as you head out to idiosyncratic locales to bring the souls of strange creatures back to their slain bodies. And it’s a fun journey! After stretching out the Majora’s Mask-esque timer long enough that you can venture to the edges of the map without fear, the game gets weird as heck (“heck” used intentionally as Tim Rogers’ fingerprints are all over his localization). It likely would’ve made my top 10 if not for the massively frustrating way in which my time with the game ended, a product of outdated game design.

Though far less flashy than other games on this list, Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics and Good Sudoku provided experiences sometimes better than the real thing. Good Sudoku is what it claims to be: a sudoku game with a perfect user interface and a boatload of tricks to teach that’ll have you conquering even the hardest puzzles. This was my “idle” game for some months and Zach Gage’s best flip yet. Clubhouse Games is hit-and-miss, but what it crucially gets right is Riichi Mahjong. Playing the game in the Yakuza series has had me yearning for an accessible stand-alone version and I finally found that here. Not only is it feature complete (whereas the poker games in the collection are very much not) but it also goes a step further by lending a guiding hand toward what groups of tiles to try and complete. If you own Clubhouse Games but have avoided this admittedly daunting-looking, I highly recommend giving it a shot as the tutorials do a bang-up job of explaining the rules.

My game of the year for 2020 is something particularly special to me, and one I’ve already written to earlier. So let’s just get it out of the way: Final Fantasy VII Remake (#1) is better than Final Fantasy VII. Final Fantasy VII Remake is the best Final Fantasy game. The world is richer, realized faithfully in the spirit of what the PlayStation abstractly portrayed while also bringing tons of new ideas to the table that seamlessly weave into its slummy fabric. The soundtrack pulls at your every emotion and is carefully crafted to heighten each gameplay or story beat, making it responsible for some of the most memorable moments in Remake. The combat is the perfect marriage of the menu-based traditionalism that I love, and literal interpretation via action that I learned to love. And most importantly, the characters have been overhauled to be greater than ever (though the jury’s out on Sephiroth). The Remake iteration of Aerith in particular has become one of my favorite characters of all time and her voice actress Briana White’s streamed playthrough of the game as well as Maximilian Dood’s helped me through bouts of loneliness while quarantined alone in a studio apartment. I bonded with Briana and Max over a shared passion at a time when I needed that interpersonal touch most, bringing my earlier points on Twitch full circle. I’m limiting myself to a paragraph tops for each game and I have too much to say about Remake so let me leave it at this: the impact that Final Fantasy VII Remake has on me is in many ways something I feel more than think. I can verbalize my thoughts about it but there’s a deeper feeling that’s not so easily expressed. The pursuit of conveying that is what sometimes gets me so hung up during the creative process, but also makes it extra pleasing when the right words come together.

Honorable Mentions:

  • Fire Emblem: Three Houses — Cindered Shadows (Switch)
  • Moon (Switch)
  • Good Sudoku (iOS)
  • Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics’ Riichi Mahjong (Switch)

The Top 10:

#10: Spider-Man: Miles Morales (PS5)

#9: Astro’s Playroom (PS5)

#8: Pokémon Sword & Shield: The Isle of Armor + The Crown Tundra (Switch)

#7: Hades (Switch)

#6: Monster Train (PC)

#5: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Switch)

#4: 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim (PS4 on PS5)

#3: Persona 5 Royal (PS4)

#2: Animal Crossing: New Horizons (Switch)

#1: Final Fantasy VII Remake (PS4)

This article was part of a compilation series on my variety blog. You can read the original here, which also includes discussions about 1997 Aerith’s game design philosophy and my (non)experience with passive media during quarantine.

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Tim Rattray

Writer-person ruminating on game design and narrative. My other blog: ThoughtsThatMove.com