DJ Hero was always worth a spin in the right crowd but, with so many new ways to get everyone involved, it's no longer just a living room curio - it's a genuine, bona fide dance floor-filler.

Superb evolution for the franchise and an impressive, enjoyable game in its own right. EA has obviously listened to criticism and worked hard to create a title that prioritises goal-based gameplay over micro-management to deliver an experience that's constantly engaging and thoroughly immersive.

It's the Layton series' uniquely endearing atmosphere and the developer's obvious love for its creation that makes this return visit to the good Professor feel like a genuine pleasure, rather than an over-familiar chore.

Hands-down, it's the most exciting, refreshing music game we've played in ages and, whether on or off the decks, DJ Hero succeeds admirably in its goal to bring people together to party - and isn't that what music's all about?

DJ Hero was always worth a spin in the right crowd but, with so many new ways to get everyone involved, it's no longer just a living room curio - it's a genuine, bona fide dance floor-filler.

The main thing, though, is the remarkable and bold focus - none of Assassin's Creed 2's endless tutorial or ridiculous minigames, or indeed of Arkham Asylum's irritatingly blocked routes and hollow collectormania. This reborn Splinter Cell just gets on with it: it has the courage to pick one thing, the fantasy of being a hi-tech manhunter, and do it as well as possible.

It's a beautifully presented and gently-paced title that, while far from revolutionary, is simply a joy to play.

It mightn't be especially original but Lords of Shadow's rock solid core mechanics, creative flourishes and assured sense of pacing all combine to form a game that, despite a few rough edges, is a beautifully atmospheric, undeniably entertaining experience.

Ubisoft has delivered an incredibly polished, tremendously enjoyable and utterly lovable experience here. It takes all the best elements of previous franchise entries then expands and refines them to create an absolutely unforgettable adventure. It’s magical in every sense of the word.

While not wholly original, the game's blend of open world ideals with superhero powers is done with a verve that’s unsurpassed, and the mesh of platforming and freeform combat is uniquely satisfying.

Unfortunately, it’s these failings that defined our experience of the game, though for anyone keen to sample a shooter that dares step into the leftfield we recommend endeavouring to get to the heart of what feels like an uncut diamond – rough-shorn but not bereft of value.

In spite of its sluggish opening, Battlefield: Bad Company goes on to produce one of the most entertaining first-person shooters since last year’s "Call of Duty 4."

The WWII setting compounds the wearying feeling of over-familiarity, but the solid engine that powers the game ensures that it’s often the most spectacular take on the conflict yet, and one that’s certainly the most exhilarating.

It's a game we've been wanting to play for more than a decade, a real modern re-imagining of the Fallout series, complete with that deliciously black humour. But it's also more of the same, aesthetically and technically identical to Fallout 3, wonky facial animation and all.

Easily the best Grand Prix game since Geoff Crammond was on the beat. Its driving is second to none and is brought alive by a dynamic weather system, while its racing is as thrilling as the real thing.

While it's occasionally hampered by outdated controls and problematic AI, it's the near-mandatory co-op and bombastic assault of visceral silliness that earns Resident Evil 5 its stripes. Sure, it might just be a shinier, snazzier retread of Resi 4 - and certainly, it lacks its forerunner's impressive sense of invention - but this is still big, dumb Grade A entertainment.

Far more accessible and appealing than its PSP counterparts – it's beautiful, absorbing, hugely satisfying to play (with a Classic Controller at least) and thankfully doesn't rely so heavily on multiplayer.

It's polished and slick, it's got gargantuan-sized gods, near-musical interludes, and infernal, flaming bosses. It's nothing short of brilliant.

God, the scale of the thing.

Another excellent entry in Nintendo’s burgeoning hybrid franchise, effortlessly straddling the demographic divide thanks to its beguiling mix of approachable puzzles, gentle adventure and triple-A production values.

It's polished and slick, it's got gargantuan-sized gods, near-musical interludes, and infernal, flaming bosses. It's nothing short of brilliant.

DJ Hero is a beautifully structured experience that understands the rhythm-action genre thoroughly enough to appeal directly to progression-obsessed fans, yet knows how to juggle its goods to offer a music experience that's never frustrating and wears its unpretentious accessibility with pride.

It's a game we've been wanting to play for more than a decade, a real modern re-imagining of the Fallout series, complete with that deliciously black humour. But it's also more of the same, aesthetically and technically identical to Fallout 3, wonky facial animation and all.

A genre classic. Though its component pieces may be basic, they all conspire together to create an experience that’s the measure of anything to have come out of Square or Enix’s collective stable, and whether you’re a veteran of the series or a debutant, this is a slice of indisputable role-playing perfection - and one of the greatest RPGs the DS has to offer.

Need for Speed Shift gets the most important part of a racing game right and it does so with a flair that’s uncommon in a frequently po-faced genre, providing driving that’s genuinely thrilling.

Easily the best Grand Prix game since Geoff Crammond was on the beat.

Easily the best Grand Prix game since Geoff Crammond was on the beat. Its driving is second to none and is brought alive by a dynamic weather system, while its racing is as thrilling as the real thing.

The more you invest in exploring No More Heroes’s minutiae, the more you’ll get out of its singular mode of story telling – there’s barely a lump of on-screen furniture or intentionally duff moment here that doesn’t have some relevance to proceedings.