It’s something of a miracle that Rock Band 4 exists.

After the music-game crash of the mid-2000s, it looked like we’d never see another game like this. A saturated market and a global recession killed games such as Rock Band, Guitar Hero, and their ilk back in 2010.

But seven years later, series developers Harmonix are bringing the band back together for Rock Band 4. They’ve cut ties with previous publisher EA and no longer have a partnership with MTV. This once-sellout act is now an indie affair, and that’s greatly shifted the scale of this latest entry.

RB4 doesn’t stray far from its origins. You’re still using a plastic instrument to hit on-screen note cues, aiming for a 5-star high score and bringing people together for drunken midnight jam sessions. Rock Band is just as much about what happens off-screen as on, and RB4 brings that experience to a new generation of hardware.

But Harmonix isn’t resting on past accomplishments for the latest release. New features offer subtle adjustments, to varying degrees of success. Freestyle guitar solos are the most radical, replacing every solo with an open-ended music tool that encourages improvisational shredding. Thin guidelines assist you in creating something that fits the original song, but it’ll never be as good as the real thing. It’s easy enough to turn off.

Singers also get a “Freestyle” of their own, permitting them to play around with pitch at higher difficulty levels. Drummers can now play authored drum fills (rather than the free-form sections of past games). These additions are small, but they enhance their respective instruments.

Finally, the game’s “Shows” mode changes the process of song selection. Between sets, a list of four tracks appears on screen, and band members vote on the next song. It’s a welcome addition that encourages exploration of the game’s included soundtrack instead of just sticking to familiar favorites.

RB4 includes 65 songs, showcasing a diverse range of genres and eras. There’s a little bit of country (“Little White Church,” by The Reason Why; “Start A Band” by Brad Paisley ft. Keith Urban), some funk (“Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars & Mark Ronson), and a whole lotta rock ‘n roll (“The Seeker” by The Who; “Hail To The King” by Avenged Sevenfold). It feels like a tasting platter, reminding you of the 1,200+ musical possibilities in the game’s downloadable content.

If you’re a Rock Band veteran, RB4 comes with good and bad news. Most previously-bought content and instruments are compatible with the new game, and the release of a new game means more songs to master.

Unfortunately, the overall experience is a step down. Keyboards and Pro Guitars are no longer supported, character creation is extremely limited and even “Practice” mode is gone. Harmonix has promised post-release updates to address some of these issues, but hardcore fans shouldn’t “upgrade” to an inferior game solely on promises.

Despite its faults, Rock Band 4 is still solid. This is a reunion tour wherein the act shows off all its old tricks but can’t quite recapture the magic with the new material. Yet in the heat of the moment, you’ll have just as much fun as when you saw it all for the very first time.

Follow Chris Berg on Twitter, @Mushroomer25

When Crystal Dynamics rebooted its iconic Tomb Raider franchise in 2013, the game seemed unconfident – light on puzzles, heavy on linear action set pieces, and overly derivative of Naughty Dog’s Uncharted franchise.

But with the stakes against them, Crystal Dynamics delivers on Rise of the Tomb Raider – a smart adventure that satisfies on all fronts.

After the bombastic ending to her last island adventure, Lara Croft finds herself in London with a newfound perspective on the world. Having seen evidence of the supernatural for herself, she sets out to find her father’s last obsession – a Divine Source providing eternal life. Racing against a new organization set to abuse these powers, she ventures into Siberia on the hunt for a lost city in the ice.

The plot isn’t anything groundbreaking, but it’s done well enough to warrant your attention. Between the cut-scenes and audio logs littered across the world, you get a great sense of this new mountainous location and its detailed history. It’s a roaring little adventure, even if the plot twists can be seen from ten miles away.

Croft is right at home in the mountains, running through ancient ruins, modern villages and epic glaciers coated in snow. The atmosphere combines impressive technical aspects with a talented direction to the game’s most cinematic moments of action. The gameplay is more of an even split than the 2013 reboot, which favored linear cinematic platforming and cover-based shooting over the series’ iconic puzzles.

In terms of gameplay, Rise isn’t much different than the past. But it makes just enough minor tweaks to turn a good formula into an excellent one. You’ll leap across walls of ice as you dodge gunfire, sprint through a mountain cliffside in the midst of an avalanche, and feel like a prime action hero at all times.

Croft as a character feels like the biggest step up over 2013’s entry. Even though she’s only had one adventure under her belt, she goes after situations with a refreshing gusto. No longer the innocent student who apologized to a deer as she kills it for resources (before eviscerating countless paramilitary mercenaries like Rambo), Lara feels dominant. She’s still a tad naive, still learning the realities of this insane world, but there’s a newfound sense of confidence that makes her a terrific protagonist.

Games like Rise of the Tomb Raider often get ignored due to their subtle greatness. There’s little in this adventure you haven’t seen before, but it’s never been done better. Don’t let it slip by.

Follow Chris Berg on Twitter, @Mushroomer25

Nobody makes games quite like Bethesda Softworks. The developers of Elder Scrolls and Fallout have established a name for themselves as world-builders at a scale that often seems impossible. They’re ambitious, crafting enormous role-playing games with adventurers, beasts, and loot aplenty. All of it is playable as an action game with real-time combat. Fallout 4 is their latest release, inviting players to create a hero or heroine and explore the post-apocalyptic ruins of Massachusetts. In that world is the promise of a unique adventure defined by the player. It’s a game that twenty years ago could have only existed in the imagination of a young sci-fi addict. While Fallout 4 achieves many of these lofty goals, it also often crumbles under the same values that make it great.

Fallout 4 wastes no time tossing the player into the deep end. After creating a character, you witness their life collapse almost immediately. An unassuming suburbanite, you seek refuge in an underground vault when the bomb drops. One two-century nap later, and you awake in a post-apocalyptic era with a kidnapped son and a dead lover. The game rushes you out the door to start exploring the wasteland, regardless of how many questions you have. This lack of acclimation is a strange constant for the Fallout 4 experience. Virtually nothing is properly explained to the player. For veteran Fallout fans, this detachment will be refreshing, but new players may be in for a rough first few hours.

Once you’re acclimated to the Wasteland, there’s no lack of things to do. You can follow the trail of clues to locate your lost son, unraveling a fun sci-fi mystery in the process. You can align yourself with one of several factions, each of which come with rich quests that cover detailed new locations. You can form relationships with various companions (including a robot butler and trusty canine). You can start rebuilding society by constructing settlements – or you can wander into the abyss, taking on whatever goal meets your fancy. You’re always given a purpose, another goal to chase.

But all of this content comes with a consequence. With so much to do, it’s mathematically impossible for Bethesda to test every situation a player could get into and lock it down for bugs. This is a game that can and will break, in ways that range from humorous distractions to game-breaking disasters. The threat of the latter is always present, adding external tension to every moment. Running into a dead end within a building confronts you with the possibility that everything may have just broken. It doesn’t help that on consoles, the game has severe performance issues in certain areas.

But ultimately, Fallout 4 could please a gamer for anywhere from twenty to 200 hours. It’s not always the most polished experience, but you’ll be far too immersed within the game to care.

Ever since the original Rocky, making a film about fighting has been an uphill battle. Sylvester Stallone’s 1976 boxing epic is one of the greatest movies in history primarily because it tells the definitive version of a simple narrative – of the underdog who tramples all the odds, rises to contender status, nearly loses it all due to his own ego, and comes back in the ring to walk away a better man. It’s a trope that extends for the length of an entire script, but it’s so tired it usually sinks most films that implement it. Creed, the seventh film in the Rocky franchise, faces this dilemma head on to remarkable success.

Creed tracks the story of Adonis Johnson (Michael B. Jordan), who learns at an early age that his father was legendary boxer Apollo Creed. With the weight of this legacy on his shoulders, Adonis embraces his natural boxing talents and sets out to train with Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) himself. Jordan plays Adonis with a perfect balance of heart and smarm. He’s a sympathetic character but cocky beyond his own talents. A convincing human character in a legendary tale, Jordan wins the right to be championed by the audience.

Director/writer Ryan Coogler approaches this classic formula with a refreshing modernity. There’s a level of personal intimacy in his directorial style, getting just as close in a tender love sequence as in a bare-fist fight. He’s never afraid to touch upon the iconic moments of the original Rocky series to make a point, but he always provides a meaningful reason for evoking such nostalgia.

The fights themselves are a sight to behold and employ some of the best camerawork you’ll see this year. Multiple boxing sequences unfold through unbroken shots, complemented by surround audio. It’s a perfect encapsulation of the sport, and it should get your heart pumping.

As Creed enters its third act, it starts to wear as it trades elevated realism for genuinely unbelievable stakes. It wavers but never loses the audience entirely, mostly thanks to Rocky himself. Stallone’s renewed take on Balboa is engaging to watch and ultimately is the emotional core of the film. Even when the events of Creed start to feel cliche, they’re delivered with enough heart to keep it going to the climax.

Cynical film fans might expect they’ve seen it all, that every story has been told. But sometimes a classic story still gets a reaction because you’re too entertained to try and escape. Creed isn’t original, yet it feels wholly new. It’s the new standard for retro revivals.

The gaming industry has always felt the need to live up to expectations set by the world of entertainment. We refer to games based on their ‘cinematic moments’, despite never being aired in cinemas. Game franchises boast about having the ‘biggest entertainment launches of the year’ when they exceed sales expectations – an easy task when each copy nets sixty bucks. It’s that same illogical desire that fuels the need for video game award shows, where the best titles of the year can be honored with a hefty metal statue as millions watch in awe. The Game Awards attempted to bring this dream to life but instead highlighted industry drama and marketing over the awards themselves.

The Game Awards operates as a half-step between a typical awards ceremony and a press conference. Between trophies and speeches were trailers for upcoming big games – including a new Batman series from Telltale, a sequel to the cult-hit Psychonauts, and a new virtual-reality experience for Rock Band. While the promise of these premieres are often what drives people to watch, it forces the Game Awards to act as a platform for video game companies to push products. It’s hard to take a show’s judgment of gaming greatness seriously when they reserve stage time for Shaq-Fu: The Legend Reborn.

Ultimately, the best moments of the Game Awards came when they honored the best of the craft. Ample time was given to eulogize Satoru Iwata, the beloved Nintendo CEO who passed away earlier this year. The show’s annual Industry Icon award was presented to Westwood Studios with a sharply produced documentary segment that summed up the immeasurable impact of the Command & Conquer series. When this show can step away from the contemporary and remember the past, it can be a powerful platform for nostalgia.

Despite walking away with only a single award for Best Action/Adventure Game, the game on everyone’s lips during the night was Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain. Series creator Hideo Kojima was noticeably absent during the night, leaving host Geoff Keighly to explain that lawyers from Konami (publishers of MGS V, who cut ties with Kojima earlier this year) barred him from attending. This prompted a vocal reaction from the crowd and transitioned into a musical performance of one of the game’s somber closing songs. It was an uncharacteristically genuine moment in an otherwise structured and artificial show.

All this drama largely pushed the actual awards to the background. Trophies were handed out with little to no pomp-and-circumstance, announced backstage or in passing as a winner approached the stage. Even at the show’s climax, as The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt was awarded the trophy for Game of the Year, barely a moment passed before the show transitioned to Deadmau5 doing a boring mash-up of his past hits with Super Mario samples.

A good awards show should elicit a variety of emotions – righteous laughter at a good opening monologue, profound sadness when remembering those who we’ve lost, triumphant pride when your favorite contender beats the odds to take home a trophy. But the Game Awards provoked plenty of uncomfortable emotions alongside the positive ones. It’s a show hasn’t yet found its voice but shows potential as an annual celebration for the medium.

The list of Christmas standards is long and vetted by decades of pop culture scrutiny. Joining such an elite group is a seemingly impossible task . Yet year upon year, filmmakers are determined to try. This year, a stoner comedy and throwback horror flick have taken up the task. Do either succeed?

The Night Before: Seth Rogen has written himself into a comfortable bubble over the past couple of years. Even if most of his films boil down to the same formula of “Seth Rogen & friends get high, go on adventures,” they can still be genuinely fun. The Night Before never hits the same highs as Pineapple Express or This Is The End, but it still offers a decent seasonal chuckle.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Ethan, a young adult stalling in his early ‘30s as his friends achieve personal and professional success. Orphaned as a teen, his friends still adhere to an annual tradition of spending the holidays together, getting plastered on all manner of substances as they search for the ultimate party. It’s a fairy shallow setup, guiding the trio of Rogen, Levitt, and Anthony Mackie through a series of vulgar bits with a tinsel twinge. It’s funny, despite feeling obvious.

The film stumbles as it tries to tie emotional strings through the gags. The personal struggles of all three characters are difficult to empathize with as they coast through a Christmas Eve of debauchery. Even as they make brutally stupid decisions, the stakes never feel real. As is the case with every one of these films, everything will turn out alright regardless of how badly our protagonists screw up. You’ll laugh, but leave gaining very little.

Will it be a holiday classic?: Unlikely. There’s little here to really latch onto or remember once it’s over. The bits are great the first time through, but they likely won’t hold up under annual revisits.

Krampus: Director Michael Dougherty is responsible for one of my favorite holiday films of all time, though the holiday in question is far from merry. Trick ‘r Treat is a delightfully horrifying Halloween romp that captures the dark undertones of a cultural tradition. His latest, Krampus, applies the same cynical worldview to Christmas. A deliciously bold opening showcasing a yuletide retail riot sets the stage perfectly as we follow protagonist Max’s growing discontent with his family’s disrespect for the holiday.

Trick ‘r Treat was notable for its brutal imagery, with monster effects that focused on practical beasts and plenty of gore. Krampus lives up to its predecessor, busting out some truly astonishing monsters. While the film is shot like a standard mainstream horror flick (right down to the PG-13 rating), it’s the character design that gives Krampus a leg up.

Unfortunately, the film seems compromised in terms of tone. It portrays Max’s family as the perfect horror movie cast: a righteous band of assholes that deserves the worst. But as the darkness starts to spread, the film goes out of its way to humanize them and even touch on genuine notes of Christmas spirit. The film sticks to genre tropes for both holiday films and horror films without seeming to care about their contradictory nature.

Will it be a holiday classic?: Potentially. Trick ‘r Treat suffers from similar script issues, but found an appreciating cult audience with time. It may sink into the abyss of pop culture for a few years, but I can see Krampus getting good legs on cable.

Christmas is a time for reflection on family, community, and the spirit of giving. Or, at least, we allow old movies to tackle those themes for us. Of all the holiday films that pass around on cable this time of year, Home Alone holds a particularly special place in many people’s hearts. John Hughes and Chris Columbus’s tale of a boy left behind while his family goes on vacation is a beautiful, heartfelt comedy that has stood the test of time as a true classic. But since the film was released, the conversation about Home Alone ignores a bold fact that the world must wake up to.

Home Alone 2: Lost In New York is a better movie than Home Alone.

It’s easy to see why critics couldn’t stand Lost In New York. The film is a beat-for-beat retelling of the first movie, repeating not just the core premise but most of the iconic gags from the original film. Kevin fools adults with dialogue from the same gangster movie, hits Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern in the head with the same paint cans, and even befriends a mysterious old crone that terrified him at first sight, much like his intimidating neighbor in the first. But this doesn’t mean the film is worse than the original. In fact, all of these bits are every bit as charming and funny as on their first execution, often more so.

While the original Home Alone showcases the charms of the holidays in a small town, Lost In New York has the whole of NYC to play with. The Big Apple shines under snow and neon lights, and Columbus revels in every inch. It’s hard to compare a single home to the wide variety of hotels, toy stores, and NYC landmarks the second film utilizes.

The gags are done in a similar manner, but Lost In New York takes the scale up to 11. Cartoon violence has always been central to the franchise, which throws Pesci and Stern’s Wet Bandits through all manner of hell. But while the first film plays these moments with a certain level of realism, Lost In New York might as well star Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. Stern’s character is hit in the skull with no less than half a dozen bricks, is electrocuted for nearly a minute, and falls several stories while engulfed in flame. Yet at the end, both bounce back to life before being whisked off to jail. Subtlety doesn’t have a place in slapstick, and Home Alone 2 understands that.

Lost In New York belongs to an odd breed of sequel, one almost more appropriate to a video game than a feature film. All of the talent was able to return to the table, learn from the past, and improve upon it in every way. Lost In New York is engineered to hit every note of the first – harder. In 1992, it might have looked unoriginal and predictable. In 2015, it’s simply the superior alternative.

Follow Chris Berg on Twitter @ChrisBerg25