I have to stop saying that I don't like open world games, because developers just seem to keep getting better at making them. On a growing list that includes Just Cause 2, Crackdown and Saint's Row 2, I must now grudgingly add Red Dead Redemption as a game that has managed to simultaneously create a dynamic living world and a place where I want to spend my gaming time.

I am officially packing away my "blight on the industry" handle for Rockstar and replacing it with "talented developer that can be really annoying at times." At least, until they do something new to earn my ire. I put the over-under at about three weeks for that to happen. But, for now, I must simply hang my head and admit, "My name is Sean, and I kinda love Red Dead Redemption."

The trouble with retro, as has oft been pointed out, is that you can't really go home again. Or at least, the pathway home is a delicate one. Having been served platefuls of 30 year old arcade standbys on every conceivable platform, Microsoft launched a new twist on the rear view mirror this morning with "Game Room," an unambitious and ill-conceived moneygrab designed to act as a platform for all retro-gaming to come.

But there's a bit more here than meets the eye.

Since the launch of the Xbox 360, it's been my console of choice for two reasons:

1: Community
2: Access to content

The first is something of a self fulfilling prophecy. In my circle of friends, early adoption ensured that critical mass was on the platform well ahead of the competition. Everyone's there because that's where everyone is. It helps that Microsoft has made it easy to keep track of who's playing what, grab some friends, and play a game.

The second point is more unique. Xbox LIVE Arcade has long had a policy of free Demos, and as a cheapskate ADD gamer, I've probably played more time in demos of fun little games than I have in any games I've ever purchased. Add to that the availability of demos on almost all new AAA games, and the free content stream has kept me busy on many evenings I'd otherwise just waste away in front of the TV.

Gameroom, conceptually, tries to merge these concepts, bringing a new commerce model and a new community layer to the retrogaming space. Conceptually, it sounds great. The community features -- such as issuing ego challenges to your friends for high scores -- are rational. The problem is the games.

Gameroom currently features straight ports of a handful of arcade and console classics, and a fairly broad swath of detritus we've seen smashed into collections before. And straight ports rarely work.

Don't get me wrong, some of my favorite retro games are in here: Tempest, Asteroids, Crystal Castle. But it also features odd choices driven I'm sure by ease of licensing rather than any great consumer demand to play just one more game of Sub Hunt. While I love playing my Atari in the basement with the big old clunky rubber and plastic controllers, most retro games -- certainly cabinet games -- have poor shelf lives.

And that's OK. It really is. I've given myself permission to admit that even though Red Barron was the coolest thing ever back in the day, as a modern game, it's stupid, boring and predictable. And game developers know this too -- that's why we've seen some amazing re-imaginings of the classics in just the last few years: Pac Man C.E. and Space Invaders Infinity Gene being the best examples.

Putting these straight ports into fake consoles where my odious Avatar can see them, all for the low price of 50 cents a play or a few bucks to own simply makes no sense to me. I own most of the retro games I want to own in any of a dozen compilations or in a few cases on the original hardware.

Luckily, Microsoft's fairly generous demo policy is still present in Gameroom. There's no reason not to download it and any games they release and poke around -- you get 10 minutes in every game.

Unfortunately, for almost all of them, ten minutes will be enough. After that, I'll go back to the basement and fire up the Atari if I want my retro fix.

I am safe for the moment behind the bulwark, as dust and smoke linger on the bullet-ridden dead, some human and some very much not, that have fallen on ragged concrete just beyond the sandbags. In the distance a curious fire flickers conjuring ragged shadows that reach like nightmare corpse fingers toward us. The great and rotting underground tunnels that tower to either side are filled with the directionless sound of movement and malice.

As I triple-check the charge of my flashlight, my companion explains through a thick Eastern European accent that I am to make my way into the dark and collapse the tunnel with explosives that I will find on what is presumed to be a dead soldier lost somewhere in the black. If am overwhelmed by the creatures that stalk the darkness, then I am to lead them back to this outpost and the arsenal of soldiers who will wait here armed for my unlikely return. As I listen to the instructions, I can not get past the idea that I will be sent out into the twisting shadows alone.

I ignite my flashlight and the anemic illumination slices a minor wound into the darkness, enough just to bring focus and clarity to the bloodied dead that initially block my way. My gaze lingers on a creature, and its dead-eye seems to consider me with equal gravity. I reload my already fully loaded shotgun, and despair at how little ammo I have.

Somewhere in the darkness I have faith I will find more shells. Somewhere in the darkness I am certain I will come face to face with the lurking malevolence that waits in shadow. Somewhere in the darkness, in the suffocating onyx of underground night, far down the puncture wound of this subway tunnel, I will lay my ordinance at the nest of these creatures, and I will run pursued by fire and teeth.

This is Metro 2033.

One achievement.

One simple, quirky achievement involving radios was all it took to set the STEAM community on fire. As gamers woke to find that their long-dormant copy of Portal suddenly patched in something new, a frenzy of exploration, theorizing and social communication took hold.

Time Played: (Not including Beta) 6 hours
Relevant Biases: World of WarCraft addict; Deep Space Nine was the best Trek
Platform: PC

I was never terribly excited about Star Trek Online to begin with, and with the game’s official launch now a week out, I'm not exactly surprised to discover that the game has not lit my world aflame. ST:O has a lot going for it, not the least of which being its well established and universally loved mythos, but for reasons I am hard pressed to explain, every time I fire the game up I start thinking about how long I intend to play and isn't there something else I could be doing with this time?

The fundamental problem is that Star Trek just doesn’t make sense for me as an MMO, or at least ST:O developer Cryptic Studios hasn't convinced it does. The genre is locked in for me with distinct preconceived notions about loot gathering and level progression. I applaud Cryptic for rising to the necessary challenge of reinventing the wheel, but it’s endlessly hard to believe I can’t, as acting captain of the U.S.S. Renegade just have a fancy personal shield or hypo spray replicated. Why exactly am I taking one off a dead Klingon, anyway?

Additionally, the progression and advancement system is obtuse, and even at level — God, I don’t even know, maybe just six — there’s no sense of things changing or how they might change in the future. I can't credibly comment on how that progression may or may not improve as I unlock new powers, skills and tree option, but I’m already shooting down Birds of Prey and the occasional Battlecruiser right now, what will I be doing in fifteen or twenty levels? Shooting down suitably stronger versions? Does that even make sense?

I stress, the problem is not that Star Trek: Online doesn't have an answer. The problem is that the answer is hard to see early on. I imagine that if you can go into this game with a sensible desire to simply explore, then all of this is just meaningless minutia that will take care of itself. My play style is goal and reward driven, and I feel so far like a square peg being kicked into a block of wood that doesn't even have a round hole much less a square one.

It’s funny, because by and large the mechanics of the game are not where I find myself discouraged. Granted the away missions can get a little tedious and predictable from time to time, but they do have a sense of narrative to them that goes beyond just the collect and kill quests. It’s at least something to feel like you’ve boarded a medical ship lousy with stinkin’ Klingons to rescue some doctors rather than playing pest control for some local constabulary. Space battles are also a highlight, particularly if you get involved in a larger scale battle or fleet action with ships swooping in from all directions firing great streaking arcs of phasers and crisscrossing photon torpedoes.

I want to be more excited when I log into Star Trek: Online, which is increasingly stable by the day, and I’ll keep it on my desktop hoping for that moment where it all clicks into place for me. But, the reality is that between having just finished Mass Effect 2 and eyeing Bioshock 2, it’s difficult to imagine when I will have the time, much less the inclination to give it the time it deserves.

Time Played: 4 Hours
Relevant Biases: Past criticism of Bioware games, preference for shooters
Platform: PC

Mass Effect 2 is far from a perfect game, and it still commits a few of the relevant sins that have long established a Bioware game. It offers an illusion of freedom in a tightly confined world that is ever nudging you toward its desired goals through linear spaces. The world never quite feels real and lived in so much as a set piece through which to absorb the story, and at least through the first few hours of the game the gray areas between good and evil aren’t as conflicting as I might have hoped.

But, where I was always battling with Mass Effect to get past what I saw as its shortcomings, the sophomore effort is so packed with atmosphere and improvements that problems have been barely a blip on my radar. Bioware has rightly stopped futzing around trying to be all things to all people and clearly established Mass Effect 2 as a story-driven shooter first with RPG frosting on top. For me, this was totally the right call.

The game opens with such force, awe inspiring moments that make you stop and simply stare at the world around you as it crumbles in fire and metal from the git-go, that you must actively resist declaring Mass Effect 2 game of the year before even arriving at the splash screen. Like a great episode of Battlestar Galactica where you get to the opening credits and feel like you’ve already watched seven episodes worth of good sci-fi, Mass Effect 2 doesn’t ask you to come in so much as it attaches hooks of pleasure to your eyeballs and drags you through the door by your faceholes!

Yes, I just said faceholes. Deal.

People can talk all they want about graphical improvements and AI teammates, but this game succeeds in what I think is now the most important factor in narrative driven games: acting. Scenes aren’t just set up as instances of action and inaction, so much as they are directed and framed in a theatrical sense. Staging and blocking are considered during crucial interactions, and characters are framed in ways that add weight and tension. All of this is only bolstered by top shelf voice talent including Martin Sheen in a prominent role.

All glory to the directors, artists and animators who breathed life into these characters. Silky smooth performance on my laptop with nary a glitch or bug to be found only helps the case.

I’m an angry, bitter old gamer whose sense of innocence has long since been buried under the memories of countless disappointments. It’s been a long time since I’ve sat at work and daydreamed about getting home to find out what happens next. I wonder how quickly I can get the kids to bed. Commander Shepherd’s gots killin’ to do.