Horizon: Forbidden West | Games of the Year 2024

In late 2017, I interviewed Guerrilla Games' Jan-Bart Van Beek about his original pitch for what would become Horizon: Zero Dawn, how the studio designed this world, and the lengths the team went to in order to make this new IP stand out.

It was one of those interviews I did with a twinge of guilt because I hadn't played the game, despite it being on shelves for more than six months by that point. I was interested, certainly, but to me Horizon: Zero Dawn was just "that game with robot dinosaurs I should check out at some point."

Back in April this year, I was fortunate enough to catch Van Beek at the BAFTA Game Awards… where I formally apologised for not playing his game prior to our conversation, because both Zero Dawn and its sequel Horizon: Forbidden West are comfortably among my favourite PlayStation games of all time. (It's a close call between them and Insomniac's Spider-Man games. Don't make me choose!)

Let's address the Tremortusk in the room: the 'robot dinosaurs' are more than just cool-looking enemies to bash. They are central to a combat system I find genuinely refreshing.

The vast majority of games I play tend to feel like battles amount to 'whittle down the enemy health bar until it falls down.' If it's a boss fight of some sort, you might have to find a weak spot for faster whittling, but by and large, it's a case of keep bashing until dead. In Horizon, the component-centric design of the machines allows for something much more varied and ultimately more fun.

Scan any machine you encounter and you'll be able to highlight specific parts of the beast – and breaking them will have specific effects. Destroy the antenna and your enemy won't be able to call for reinforcements. Hit a tank of flammable liquid with fire arrows and you'll cause a chain reaction (i.e. a massive explosion) that takes off half its health. Rip the cannon off and you can use it yourself. Detach the claws from burrowing machines and they'll no longer be able to hide underground. You take away their advantages and make them your own, and I struggle to think of other games where that's the case.

You take away the machines' advantages and make them your own, and I struggle to think of other games where that's the case.

In most games, particularly open world ones, I avoid combat where possible. It's not why I'm there, I just want to explore the world and experience the story. Battles are potentially frustrating distractions (I still haven't dared take on a Gleeok in Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom). But with Horizon, I actively divert from wherever I was headed to tackle even the biggest machines.

Diversions are another joy here. The side quests are so well written, the characters so likeable and relatable, I find myself compelled to abandon my mission to save the world in order to find a missing tribesman, locate that runaway machine, take out that pesky rebel camp.

Upon completing a main quest or a key area, protagonist Aloy will likely say to herself that she ought to come back again later; ordinarily, I'd dismiss this as padding or the developer trying to get me to stay a little longer – but given how invested I became in the main mission that preceded this comment, yes, I will absolutely return later. I want to see what happens next. I want to see everything.

Aloy is another element that keeps me coming back. I worry that 'strong, female character' gets used to the point where it might become meaningless and condescending, but in her case it's absolutely true.

Wonderfully performed by Ashly Burch, she has a firm moral compass, she takes absolutely no nonsense from the people that disrespect her or her time, and she shows compassion for those in need. Aloy cares, so I care (hence the aforementioned diversions).

All of the above also applies to Zero Dawn, but Forbidden West is fully in the vein of 'bigger, better, more' sequels. It takes every element and improves on it: more machines, more weapons, more quest types, more Horizon.

The map is far more varied than that of its forebear; in addition to snowy mountains and dusty deserts, you now have more jungle-like areas, the towering redwood forests of the Pacific coast, sandy beaches, and ruined locations that are much more familiar than those of the previous game.

Everything wraps up together to form a game I just cannot put down. I get distracted by newer releases, true, but I soon find myself riding across the Forbidden West again

The foliage-covered remains of the Golden Gate Bridge are the cover image for the game, but (and I don't want to spoil anything) just wait until you see what Guerrilla has done to Las Vegas. Oh and, lest we forget, you can override a pteradactyl-like machine and fly over the entire map while another machine lets you glide about underwater – both of which are exhilarating.

All of this is enhanced by the fact the game is absolutely stunning. It feels like Guerrilla is squeezing every ounce out of the PS5 to make this world look as vibrant and enticing as possible. Of the dozens of hours I've poured into this game, a significant chunk has been spent in Photo Mode, desperately trying to capture the beauty of the Forbidden West.

Clashes with machines that would play out in about 15 minutes take me closer to an hour because I'm constantly trying to get the best screenshots (ready to inflict on social media and/or the GamesIndustry.biz team the next morning).

But – as is always the case with me – it's the storytelling and the writing that keeps me coming back.

I was amazed by Zero Dawn's unique take on a post-apocalyptic world, one reclaimed by nature. When the mystery of how and why such a transformation occurred to the Earth were revealed by the end of the game, plus the unexpectedly twisty origins of Aloy herself, I wasn't sure how a sequel could top it. With the setting and backstory established, I was expecting an 'And here's what happened next…' sort of tale. But Forbidden West expands on its predecessor in so many ways.

Sure, the sequel introduces a new area and new tribes. There's the agriculturally minded Utaru, who worship certain machines as "land gods" and carry a pouch of seeds throughout their life, seeds that will be planted after they die to ensure they live on. There are the Tenakth, who live in a ruined air force base and have built a religion around the bravery of the pilots that worked there. And each introduces new characters that become part of your adventure.

It would be easy to think of Horizon as 'that game with robot dinosaurs'... [but] you're missing something incredible

But then Forbidden West also expands on the world of the series itself. There are tribes from across the ocean, who have their own views on what our society left behind. There are story elements that come from beyond Earth and hark back to before civilisation fell. And there's more to Aloy's story as well.

Everything wraps up together to form a game I just cannot put down. I get distracted by newer releases, true, but I soon find myself riding across the Forbidden West, seeking out another encounter with dangerous machines or new stories for me to discover. (And while Horizon: Forbidden West originally released in 2022, it debuted on PC this year so it's absolutely valid as a Game of the Year choice and no, I will not be taking any questions at this time).

I would argue that Horizon is the unluckiest games franchise in history, in terms of launch timings. Zero Dawn came out just a few weeks before Zelda: Breath of the Wild, while Forbidden West arrived within a week of Elden Ring. Both have been somewhat overshadowed by other (admittedly excellent) open world games, so it would be easy for folks to perhaps miss them or still think of them as "those games with robot dinosaurs."

If that applies to you, I strongly urge you to reconsider and try them for yourself. You're missing out on something incredible.