Playtime:
4399 minutes
Sin-soaked, item-mad, and wired for mayhem with your mates—The Binding of Isaac: Rebirth still reigns as the arch-roguelike, even if the newborn online netcode occasionally spits up ectoplasm.
Rating: 9 / 10
I fling Isaac down a dank cellar, tears sizzling like holy buckshot, and within three rooms I’ve morphed into a brimstone-belching seraph lugging a pet tapeworm that shoots lasers. A decade on, that alchemy of twitch dodging and slot-machine item drops remains unmatched, and the content avalanche shows no sign of abating. Afterbirth, Afterbirth+ and 2021’s Repentance already stuffed the basement with alt floors, twisted bosses and hundreds of trinkets; last November’s free Repentance+ update piled on still more—balance passes, re-buffed classics, fresh endings, and above all a fully overhauled online co-op suite complete with Quick, Public and Friend lobbies, plus competitive Deathmatch and Daily-Run leaderboards.
Those new lobbies mostly hum along thanks to Valve rollback, and the 1.9.7.9 patch in March finally squashed the infamous input-delay bug that made every dodge feel ankle-deep in treacle. Desync gremlins do still surface—especially if one player hasn’t installed the full DLC bundle—but community work-arounds and a brisk cadence of micro-hotfixes mean most runs survive.
Once you’re in, the sandbox is bottomless. Each wandersome seed shuffles more than 700 items into grotesque synergies: homing brimstone halos, orbital tape-worms, self-replicating flies that detonate into spectral fetuses. Tinker long enough and you’ll either soft-lock reality or stumble onto a build no YouTuber has yet baptised; either way, you leave wiser—or at least weirder. The unlock grind underpins that longevity: dozens of characters, challenges and victory-lap bragging rights ensure the steam clock keeps ticking even after the hundred-hour mark, and the game-within-a-game Greed mode or Boss Rush still chew up evening plans with glee.
Presentation holds surprisingly firm. Pixel art retains its crunchy clarity, crimson splatter pops against dank masonry, and Danny Baranowsky’s pipe-organ bangers whip between churchy menace and disco hell with unholy ease. Performance is equally spry: Steam Deck holds sixty frames, ultrawide HUD scaling is now native, and colour-blind palettes make poisonous creep easier to parse for Tritan eyes.
Cracks, while small, are real. A single balance pass can send treasured builds to the sin-bin, and the sheer sprawl of items means new players may feel chained to the wiki until passive recognition kicks in. Online still reports the odd inventory mismatch or hard crash in four-player chaos, especially when explosives join the party, and the achievement list remains a marathon of masochism.
Yet when the credits tally my twelfth Victory Lap and I hover over “New Run”, none of that lingers. Isaac’s basement is still the most grotesque, slapstick chemistry set in gaming, and with (mostly) functional online play the carnival of body horror is finally a shared experience. Grab three friends, pray to RNG-sus, and prepare to drown in tears—both kinds.
👍 : 5 |
😃 : 0