Unapologetic violence, biting humour, murky moral choices: some games made provocation their signature. This Top 50 gathers the retro titles that disturbed — sometimes censored, often cult classics. RomWize breaks them down without taboo, each with its re-evaluated score, its versions, their rarity and their collector value.
"Climbing the criminal ladder here means borrowing every vehicle without asking, running shady errands and sowing cheerful chaos across an entire city left at your mercy. The game wraps it all in a sharp satire, which never stops the player from stringing together crimes with a delighted grin, perfectly at home in the role of the thug."
"Under the pretext of climbing the criminal ladder, you borrow other people's cars, lose the police and settle every dispute with gunfire, all across open cities built for chaos. The game makes no secret of its irony, yet the thrill of total freedom makes you accept, without flinching, a daily routine of crimes chained together with a slightly guilty grin."
"Saving a young woman held prisoner in a floating city seems noble, until you take stock of the trail of corpses left behind, hopped up on tonics and swinging a skyhook. Behind its heavenly-utopia setting and its big ideas, the adventure remains a near-constant carnage you breeze through with gusto, convinced you're serving a perfectly just cause."
"Saving villages from monsters is a noble calling — one that somehow involves emptying every chest, drawer and corpse along the way. We happily accept that this hero pockets strangers' crockery and hunts creatures for a handful of coin, because a witcher has to make a living. The gap between the Continent's savior and its tireless looter is rather endearing."
"Under the pretext of climbing the criminal ladder, you borrow other people's cars, lose the police and settle every dispute with gunfire, all across open cities built for chaos. The game makes no secret of its irony, yet the thrill of total freedom makes you accept, without flinching, a daily routine of crimes chained together with a slightly guilty grin."
"Exploring a ruined undersea city isn't enough to survive: you also decide the fate of the Little Sisters, small girls brimming with a precious substance you can either rescue or squeeze like fruit for extra power. The game poses the question with a mock-philosophical air, and you choose between morality and efficiency, discovering yourself more calculating than you'd have guessed."
"An elegant witch pulverizing swarms of celestial angels with a generous helping of suggestive poses: laid out plainly, the picture is faintly startling. Mid-game, though, we soak up every ecstatic combo as pure stylish obviousness, never pausing to wonder whether Paradise's creatures deserved this. The clash between the displayed grace and the gleeful carnage is the whole charm."
"Chosen by destiny to save the world from dragons, this hero mostly spends his days swiping every plate, wheel of cheese and stray gold coin from the homes of honest folk. We rifle through drawers under the owners' noses without a shred of guilt, because the adventure demands it. That Skyrim's savior ends up a compulsive burglar is irresistibly funny."
"Climbing the criminal ladder here means borrowing every vehicle without asking, running shady errands and sowing cheerful chaos across an entire city left at your mercy. The game wraps it all in a sharp satire, which never stops the player from stringing together crimes with a delighted grin, perfectly at home in the role of the thug."
"The quest sold as an epic vengeance against Olympus mostly translates into an unbroken river of soldiers, creatures and innocents carved up with spectacular fury. You follow this raging hero without flinching, dazzled by the staging, even as his notion of justice usually amounts to reducing everything in his path to shreds."
"The whole stakes come down to a casually posed question: rescue these possessed little girls, or 'harvest' them to extract their precious power? Caught up in Rapture's survival, we coldly weigh each option's yield like a shopkeeper's sum. That gameplay comfort turns so heavy a dilemma into a mere resource choice says a lot — and that very vertigo is what the series cultivates with mischief."
"Running a serious police investigation while fueled by alcohol and assorted substances — which conveniently boost certain skills — is a method that's questionable at best. We justify it by saying this battered detective just works that way, and gladly knock back one drink too many to pass a dialogue roll. Watching efficiency reward self-destruction lends the whole thing a savory, bittersweet irony."
"Climbing the criminal ladder here means borrowing every vehicle without asking, running shady errands and sowing cheerful chaos across an entire city left at your mercy. The game wraps it all in a sharp satire, which never stops the player from stringing together crimes with a delighted grin, perfectly at home in the role of the thug."
"The quest sold as an epic vengeance against Olympus mostly translates into an unbroken river of soldiers, creatures and innocents carved up with spectacular fury. You follow this raging hero without flinching, dazzled by the staging, even as his notion of justice usually amounts to reducing everything in his path to shreds."
"Exploring a ruined undersea city isn't enough to survive: you also decide the fate of the Little Sisters, small girls brimming with a precious substance you can either rescue or squeeze like fruit for extra power. The game poses the question with a mock-philosophical air, and you choose between morality and efficiency, discovering yourself more calculating than you'd have guessed."
"A naked child fleeing his fanatical mother, weeping projectile tears through cellars crawling with fetuses and sins: on paper it's hard to get more disturbing. In play, though, we clear rooms with the greed of an addictive rogue-like, the macabre imagery fading into mere scenery. The split between intimate distress and mechanical delight leaves you thoughtful, with a wry little smile."
"Surviving a post-nuclear wasteland opens a spread of possibilities where stealing, gunning down innocents or even wiping a whole town off the map are just one option among many. A karma meter keeps an eye on your slips, but total freedom soon invites you to test the limits, and you catch yourself playing a survivor markedly less virtuous than advertised."
"The whole universe rests on a routine you never question while playing: you catch wild creatures, lock them inside little balls, then send them to fight in your place so you can become the best. Sold as a grand tale of friendship, the adventure mostly comes down to collecting living beings and making them brawl, which raises a smile in hindsight."
"Under the pretext of climbing the criminal ladder, you borrow other people's cars, lose the police and settle every dispute with gunfire, all across open cities built for chaos. The game makes no secret of its irony, yet the thrill of total freedom makes you accept, without flinching, a daily routine of crimes chained together with a slightly guilty grin."
"The whole universe rests on a routine you never question while playing: you catch wild creatures, lock them inside little balls, then send them to fight in your place so you can become the best. Sold as a grand tale of friendship, the adventure mostly comes down to collecting living beings and making them brawl, which raises a smile in hindsight."
