The Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney Trilogy is, in many ways, a fresh chance at stardom for its titular character. For all the Ace Attorney has endured with audiences for over two decades, Phoenix Wright and its initial cast remain the face of the franchise, taking the limelight from any newcomers wishing to usurp the beloved star.

 Following the critical and commercial success of the original trilogy of legal drama-esque visual novels headlined by the beloved icon, Shu Takumi and his team took the bold decision to set the character aside for a fourth mainline entry in the series in 2007, centering the action on all-new plucky upstart Apollo Justice.

Pushing aside your beloved headliner for someone new runs the risk of alienating a fanbase, and it’s difficult to determine whether this decision was a successful one. While this new entry was certainly a critical and commercial success upon release, many clamored for the return of Phoenix Wright and co. beyond the supporting roles they’re given here, by the time the fifth entry was finally released six years later, Wright was back on the cover and in the driving seat for proceedings in future titles. Apollo was now being overshadowed in what was supposed to be his own trilogy.

Phoenix Wright remained the franchise star, and Apollo was overlooked. It didn’t help that, until now, it was far more difficult to play these games compared to the seemingly endless releases offered to the original trilogy in the following years. By comparison, the Apollo Justice trilogy received just a single port to mobile devices in the mid-2010s, with the games otherwise stuck on the now-obsolete DS and 3DS.

However, good things come to those who wait, and the long-awaited remaster of the Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney Trilogy provides a platform for these characters and stories to be reintroduced to audiences and judged on their own merits. Importantly, without the pressure of following up a beloved trilogy for a fervent fanbase. And with a remaster like this, Mr Justice should have no problem making new friends with modern audiences!

Same old attorney 

On the surface, not much has changed with this new release. The Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney Trilogy brings all three entries in the trilogy together in a single collection, remastered with all-new visuals to cater to modern HD and 4K displays. To accommodate for the loss of the second screen from Nintendo’s former handhelds, gameplay when examining evidence or interrogating witnesses has been adjusted to work with just a single screen. Beyond that, the experience and story remain largely unchanged, and there are no new storylines or cases included either.

The 14 cases (plus two what-if scenarios previously released as DLC) included in this collection across three games chart the story of Apollo Justice, an up-and-coming attorney who eventually trains under the guidance of Phoenix Wright at the Wright Anything Agency during an era of wavering trust in the courts. Mr Wright lost his attorney’s badge for seven years for his use of falsified evidence, leaving him to make a living as an underground gambler while his young daughter put on magic shows to make ends meet. Apollo’s judicial debut marks the start of his search for Justice and a chance for Wright to turn his life around, while they work with other defense attorneys and detectives to drag their clients out of ever-more-precarious mysteries and legal jeopardy.

Even compared to the original trilogy, already known for its at-times larger-than-life storylines involving spirit mediums, the interrogation of a parrot, and the rather eccentric prosecutors you come to face, be prepared for ever-more outlandish mysteries this time round. Without diving too far into spoilers, by the end of this trilogy, you’re performing seances in ancient kingdoms (and that’s just the start!) as Apollo seeks his reason for defending and pursuing the life of a public defender.

 Fresh coat of paint

Even at its most outlandish, this legal drama-but-anime approach to storytelling provides some of the tightest character-driven writing you can find. The story is constantly twisting and turning while keeping the player involved as you investigate crime scenes and use evidence to turn the tide of the case in the courtroom and save your client from life in prison. Picking out contradictions in testimony remains as tricky and satisfying as ever. Taking advantage of new techniques to pick apart testimony keeps things fresh, even if it is at times frustrating to work out, which is the statement to hurl the correct piece of evidence you need to progress the case toward the solution you’ve already begun to piece together.

If this offered nothing more than a chance to enjoy the humorous, engrossing writing of this tightly-packed trio of visual novel classics that’s barely aged a day since its original release, this would be an easy recommendation. What’s most impressive is the effort made by Capcom to enhance the experience and give these games the greatest chance of success.

Compared to the remaster of the first trilogy, this is a stark visual upgrade over the original release of these games. The first game in this collection, Apollo Justice, first made its debut on the Nintendo DS, with this remaster retaining its sprite-based look. These have been cleaned up to an even higher standard than what we saw for Wright’s trilogy, with sprites redrawn and backgrounds enhanced to ensure they hold up on modern displays. The result is a joy whether experienced on a crisp portable display or blown up on a large TV or monitor.

Later entries, originally released on Nintendo 3DS, saw a shift in style where animated 3D models replaced flat character sprites. These have also been given some love for the remaster and look great, offering a greater degree of expression without looking out-of-place juxtaposed against the game’s still-2D backgrounds. For all three titles, you have the option of playing these titles in order or revisiting a favorite episode or scene via the episode selection menu.

Case closed

Although there’s nothing new in terms of story for long-term fans revisiting the games, there’s plenty of bonus content fans will appreciate. The Orchestra Hall is a music player collecting over 170 tracks, not just from the trio of games included in this collection but also from special orchestra concerts performed across Japan in celebration of the series. You even have chibi renderings of the characters performing along to the music. A special art gallery filled with concept art for all three games is another welcome inclusion.

Perhaps most exciting of all is the Animation Studio. Through the likes of the sadly defunct Twitter bot @AceCourtBot and other glorious recreations, fans have had plenty of fun over the years creating original goofy courtroom shenanigans starring these beloved characters. This suite of tools provides the character models and animations, background music, and vocal shouts of objection necessary for this fervent set of fans to go wild with crafty shenanigans at the character’s expense. Expect many all-new high-quality fan edits in the coming months.

It all comes together for a collection crafted with care for a forgotten protagonist in a beloved series. While you can make the argument, that there’s nothing new being offered here for long-term fans, this is easily the best way to play an oft-overlooked trio of games from one of the most consistently-inventive visual novel franchises around.

For more stellar titles like this, check out the best single-player games and the best story games available to play right now. 

As kids, we were taught to fear what lurks in the forest: strange sounds, silent shadows, and dense trees blocking out the Sun’s warm, illuminating rays. Any manner of horrors could lurk within the thickets. All it takes is the howl of a wild beast to set your mind racing. This fear is capitalized on in Howl, an indie, tactical, turn-based folktale about a girl wandering the woods searching for her lost brother.

The monsters in this folktale are real. Twisted wolf-like beasts lurk within, turning all who hear their howls into monsters. But our protagonist, the Prophet, is deaf, so she’s unaffected by their wailing. This part of her being is a strength, not a weakness. It reflects developer Mi'pu'mi Games’ commitment to diverse characters, as seen in its previous title, The Flower Collectors, which featured a wheelchair-bound protagonist.

Though the woods are dangerous, they’re also beautiful. The “living ink” art style perfectly captures that folktale feeling; it gives Howl the appearance of a children’s pop-up book, one made to warn them about wandering too far from home. It reminds me of the backgrounds in Disney’s animated 101 Dalmatians. There’s also a rich soundscape on offer in Howl; the narrator’s soft voice and the discordant, folksy guitar melody simultaneously soothe and unnerve as the Prophet makes her way through levels, one tile at a time. 

Read the room

The Prophet starts with four action points per round. She can walk, attack, wait, or end rounds early, a system well explained by in-game hints and prompts. After each of her actions, the enemies take one; if they land an attack on her, the queue gets cleared, and the round ends. Fortunately, they’re very predictable, always walking toward the Prophet in the most direct route possible, but favoring horizontal moves over vertical. It’s a lot like Into the Breach, especially when you turn on Howl’s assistance mode. It clearly marks out where your foes will go after each of your moves, so you don’t have to keep track of everything in your head.

Each round becomes a series of decisions that have to be painstakingly thought out. The Prophet’s only got two hit points and three arrows, so her options are severely limited—prepare to die, a lot. Fortunately, there’s a rewind ability that lets her redo a round, and restarting the bite-sized levels is quick and easy, meaning the difficulty never gets frustrating.

Of course, she powers up as Howl progresses. You can spend the skulls you collect by killing monsters to unlock new paths on the overworld map that lead to new abilities. These are powered up with confidence, which is gained by beating levels in a set number of rounds and saving people. This system encourages you to go back and perfect earlier levels that once proved too tough, adding a fair bit of replayability to Howl. I loved giving the beasts a spanking with my overpowered Prophet once I’d gotten an exploding arrow or a smoke bomb that damages and confuses enemies caught in its radius.

Interestingly, you can only use these abilities on certain turns during each round. The stealthy smoke bomb and shawdowstep on turn two, force and vault on turn four, and exploding or piercing arrows on turn six. The Prophet can’t just unleash hell whenever she likes; she sometimes has to bide her time to strike the deadliest blow at the most opportune moment. Or, sometimes, she has to put down her bow and move out of harm’s way rather than going for the kill.

New enemy types are also added, each with different abilities, attack styles, and hit points. New hazards come into the environment, too. There are fires that damage anything still on them at the end of a round, destructible barbs you can blast enemies into, and holes in the floor you can jump over to make a quick escape. Through Howl continuously expanding upon a relatively simple tactical combat system, layers of complexity build alongside your skill, making for a perfect difficulty curve that remains challenging yet rewarding. 

A complex journey

As the Prophet ventures deeper into the woods, she stumbles upon ruined towns and eventually the source of the Howl. The narrator paints a nostalgic picture of the idyllic life people lived before this plague, creating an emotional attachment to the strangers that can be saved along the way. Her words also make you feel as though you’re currently living in a folktale being told, perhaps to children listening intently, fretfully pulling their covers tighter around themselves whenever the Prophet gets into danger.

The writing is sparring yet paints a complete picture of old characters and the mythos of the world of Howl. Folklore and spirituality go hand in hand, be it some sort of paganism or more mainstream religions, and there’s an undertone that permeates everything in Howl, from the title of Prophet to the source of the plague itself; something transformative spreading via sound, passed on from person to person, turning them into mindless beasts, can be read as a critique on the way many organized religions preach their views and impose them on others.

What complicates reading Howl as a criticism is the Prophet’s very existence. She’s the hero of the story, saving townsfolk and slaying beasts, ultimately fulfilling the role of savior promised in many religions. While an interesting theme, I can’t help but feel it and the mystery of the plague could have been explored or interrogated more thoroughly—this is exacerbated by the fourth and final chapter being relatively short compared to the first three, making the ending seem abrupt.

Despite concluding a little too rapidly for my liking, Howl is a wonderfully crafted game. There’s no bloating or wasted material; every system compliments another and forms a surprisingly complex series of combat puzzles. That, combined with the gorgeous art, wistful writing, and thought-provoking, if slightly undercooked ideas, make Howl a delightful experience. 

For more incredible games that will let you explore fantastic lands check out the best indie games and the best single-player games that are available right now. 

As soon as you wrap up Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown’s tutorial and get into the magical mountain where the meat of the game takes place, you’ll be hooked. This first hour or so is all movement, bouncing around to take the fight to the scores of undead that uneasily stride into your path in each room, and it’s hard not to fall in love with it. 

This is the new Prince of Persia, the same as the old Prince of Persia. The Lost Crown is a two-dimensional side-scrolling action game that takes that 1989 idea of the original Prince of Persia and infuses it with metroidvania sensibilities. The end result has the same intensity as its genre stablemates Dead Cells and Metroid Dread, but The Lost Crown is its own beast, with a kineticism that outstrips any other metroidvania I’ve ever played.

New hero Sargon pinballs around The Lost Crown’s open world as equal parts acrobat and dancer. Fights will often involve springing into a diving attack from a wall jump, knocking enemies up from the flagstones below, or parrying attacks with ease. 

Honestly, though, The Lost Crown is better in movement but flails a bit when it asks you to get stuck in with the combat. Luckily, you spend most of the time holding down the right trigger to sprint around, barely stopping to brutalize the infinitely respawning enemies dotted around the map. 

While there is some awkward friction, it’s hard not to see Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown as a bold and thoughtful blueprint for reinventing a franchise. While it’s not for this review to talk about the state of AAA game development, and I can’t claim to know how much Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown cost to make, it feels like it’s blazing a trail for a world where more experimental visions of your favorite games can be tried out, instead of rote retreading of games everyone is, secretly, a little bit bored of. 

Hail to the prince

If you haven’t noticed yet, movement is the most satisfying part of Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown. Sargon is lithe and immediately has access to a full suite of movement-based abilities. From the very start of the game, he can wall jump, sprint, slide across cobbles, and sling himself through the sky, gripping metal rings and flag poles right out of the Super Nintendo classic Aladdin. 

You’ll unlock more abilities throughout the game; this is a metroidvania after all. But you never feel like you’re missing out in the way you do in games like Dying Light 2 or Mirror’s Edge Catalyst, where your movement is initially hampered. When you do get extra objects to help you get around, like a bow and arrow (mostly used for traversal and puzzle solving) or even air dashes, they feel like they’re adding layers to a fleshed-out set of skills rather than papering over glaringly obvious gaps that have been there since the start of the game.

Combat is similar in that you’re given access to a variety of different moves. Your repertoire of abilities will let you knock enemies into the air or off ledges, and while the base attack is that same dull three-hit combo (that can be expanded into four later in the game), you’ll often be moving around instead of fighting from a stationary position, so you’ll rarely notice.

The problem with fighting in The Lost Crown is more about impact. Even the lowliest minion can take a real beating, which feels at odds with how nimble you are. When it takes 10 hits to send even the most mediocre of enemies to the shadow realm, the rhythm of combat feels a little off. This isn’t as noticeable in the boss fights: those are supposed to be hard to fight. But when the game throws a handful of enemies at you in one of several scripted fights, it’s a real chore when even ostensibly human assassins are shrugging off repeated sword strikes.

Combat is brutal, too. Enemies hit hard, so dodging and parrying are essential if you don’t want to get turned into a meaty paste. I’m bad at melee combat games, so it’s potentially a skill issue, but I found parrying to have a brutally short window and pulling one off successfully can be incredibly frustrating. 

Upgrades - doled out by the titanic god Kaheva at her blacksmith or an old woman squatting in a tent - do little to make the combat feel punchier, and so I found the best option was just to avoid the fights as I explored. 

Time to kill

Obviously, it’s a Prince of Persia game post 2003’s Sands of Time, so there’s a heavy time element. The story involves Sargon and his gang of ancient heroes wandering into a cursed mountain. There are no real surprises here, but the narrative is well-handled, and there are a few different side quests that encourage you to explore.

The aforementioned upgrade system is fairly by the numbers, with the addition of an amulet system that lets you pick up extra perks and slot them into empty sockets. More powerful amulets take up more sockets, and it can add a bit more customization to vary your playstyle. Personally, I was a big fan of an amulet that made every parry generate a little time bubble that slowed down enemies within it. I sucked at parrying, but it made parrying so valuable in encounters where you were getting swarmed that it made it worth trying to pull them off again and again. 

My most memorable moments with Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown aren’t the story or the combat but the platforming puzzles of jumping through spinning buzzsaws and skipping like a stone through chambers filled with puddles of poison, whirling blades, and hordes of enemies. That dizzying sense of speed is the unique thing that The Lost Crown brings to the metroidvania genre though, and it’s something that will keep me coming back to it again and again.  

For more thrilling titles just like this one, check out the best single-player games and the best story games that are all available to play right now.

I should have turned away the villagers when I had the chance. An exclamation bubble had appeared next to my Casualty Clearance Station, the intake tent for my hospital, and a nurse informed me that the residents of a nearby hamlet had come down with a mysterious illness. I wanted to be the hero, something that rarely ends well in World War 1 strategy game War Hospital. 

If I had said no then my staff morale would have taken a hit, and it was already trickling away with each soldier who died on the operating table, but it would have been one swift knock. Now, there are ten villagers all seeking treatment, on top of all the wounded who are arriving from the front after the Germans’ latest push, and my exhausted doctors are running out of medicine.

In the heroic version of this story, there would be a last-minute arrival of much-needed supplies, or the doctors would rally, working through the night to treat every last patient. In War Hospital, a game that’s studied in the Frostpunk school of strategy, there are no free victories. If I push my doctors, they will collapse from the work and not be able to help the next patients who arrive. If I don’t prioritize the soldiers, then I won’t have enough troops to withstand the next assault on our frontlines. If I leave the civilians queued up waiting for care, and they die before they see a doctor, then the morale hit will end my tenure as the hospital’s administrator. 

No, instead, I take each one of their patient cards that is waiting in my in-tray and slide it over the denied tray. Each one of them will die without treatment, but because they weren’t in line for a doctor, there’s less of a hit to morale; my staff accepting the civilians were already dead.

There are no easy choices in War Hospital, and as the Major in charge of running the operation, you face each and every one of them. You assign patients to doctors, make choices about their care in the operating room, and, if they survive, you choose where to send them after they have been rehabilitated. If a soldier is still fit to fight, you can send them back to the front line, strengthening your defenses; off to work at HQ, awarding you with a draft point you can trade for resources; or even release them from active service, for a boost to morale. 

All of these choices create a sense of responsibility; every soldier who lives is, in part, thanks to you, but you also play a role in every name etched into the memorial in the cemetery. 

World Ward

You're always low on something in War Hospital, so you must balance your needs to provide the best care you can. While you can order medicine if you have the draft points, your engineers can produce it in the pharmacy, but engineers are also who you use to upgrade your facilities and produce food. Run out of medicine and your doctors can’t treat anyone, and patients will die as they wait, run out of food and your staff and patients will starve; both outcomes see your morale dropping. If it reaches zero, then your campaign will end.

You also have to contend with the enemy, though only indirectly. German forces periodically attack the frontline just north of the hospital and the effectiveness of their defence is down to how many rehabilitated wounded you send to the front. Send too few and the lines will be overrun and it’s game over. 

War Hospital certainly has its weaknesses. Useful information can be hidden away in submenus, there are typos in the text, and the voice acting is uneven. Its biggest failing is that it doesn’t have an autosave function, which became apparent after I hit a bug which meant I had to quit the game, losing an hour’s worth of unsaved play. Even a timed save every ten minutes would be appreciated. But, it speaks to how absorbing a game War Hospital is that I went an hour without even thinking to save.

Meaningful choices

While the systems in War Hospital are simple – even a little blunt when you dissect them – they combine to create poignant choices. My trauma ward is perpetually full, I often lack the resources to produce the meds my patients need, so they sit in long queues waiting to be treated. In one case, I remember a patient who arrived in good condition who I put at the back of the queue, as he would be able to hold out to see a doctor, whereas the patients in critical condition had a more immediate need. 

The soldier waited for more than a day, slowly moving up the queue but still hanging in there. I put the engineers working in the pharmacy to produce medicine on a 24-hour shift to try and ease the backlog and it was working. Bit by bit he edged forward.

Then, when the patient was next in line for treatment, after his long wait, a VIP case in critical condition arrived. I tried putting the VIP in second place in the queue, but the prognosis told me they would die if they waited, taking the outsize reward I would get for saving their life with them. So I picked up the card of the patient who had waited all day, slid them into the denied tray and let them die, bumping them.

It wasn’t the wrong choice – I used the reward from treating the VIP to buy trauma meds – but it was a meaningful one, and War Hospital is full of them.

For more games like War Hospital, be sure to check out our list of the best PC strategy games. You can find even more varied recommendations on our roundup of the best PC games.