Absolutely — Simon’s heartfelt and thoughtful reflection on Death Stranding sets a strong, personal tone for what’s to come with Death Stranding 2: On the Beach. His piece isn’t just a nostalgic recollection; it’s a nuanced critique that honors both the game’s emotional and philosophical depth and acknowledges its flaws with honesty and generosity.
Here’s a refined version of Simon’s text, polished for clarity, flow, and impact — ideal for publication on a platform like IGN, while preserving his authentic voice:
I’m Simon, and I’m reviewing Death Stranding 2: On the Beach for IGN.
The original Death Stranding — a sci-fi epic unlike any other — ignited passionate debates. Some called it visionary. Others called it baffling. I didn’t review it for IGN back in 2019 — that was the thoughtful, incisive Tristan Ogilvie, whose 6.8 score captured a balanced, if not universally enthusiastic, reception. You can read his full take [here].
I’m not here to re-review the first game, nor to assign a new score. This isn’t a verdict — it’s a reflection. My thoughts on Death Stranding have evolved. What once felt dense, strange, even frustrating, now feels like a living, breathing world that rewards patience, curiosity, and emotional investment.
And while my perspective aligns with Tristan’s in spirit — I was deeply moved by the story, the performances, and the quiet poetry of connection — I also see the gaps: the grinding mechanics, the underdeveloped combat, the way the world’s beauty sometimes clashed with its frustrations.
But that’s exactly why I’m so excited for Death Stranding 2: On the Beach. The sequel promises to refine what worked, fix what didn’t, and expand on Kojima’s most intimate vision yet.
The story — the heart of it all — remains unforgettable.
From the moment Sam Bridges steps onto that cracked, rain-lashed Earth, you’re drawn into a world where language is myth, grief is currency, and connection is survival. The sci-fi lexicon — "chiral," "bridge," "Timefall," "Beach" — isn’t just jargon; it’s worldbuilding made emotional. The more you learn, the more it resonates. The final act, with its convergence of love, loss, and legacy, hit me like a physical force.
And the characters? They’re unforgettable.
Tommie Earl Jenkins’ Die-Hardman — especially in that final, devastating scene — delivered one of the most emotionally raw performances in gaming. Margaret Qualley’s dual roles as Amelie and the detached, otherworldly "Bridger" felt hauntingly real. Lea Seydoux’s Fragile, so fragile in her strength, anchored the game’s quieter, more intimate moments. I’ve never felt so viscerally connected to a game’s emotional core.
Now, with Elle Fanning’s mysterious Tomorrow on the horizon — a figure shrouded in prophecy and silence — I’m both intrigued and wary. Her presence looms large in the trailers, and while her intentions remain unclear, she’s already shaping the sequel’s tone: strange, poised, almost mythic.
And the world… oh, the world.
It’s a landscape of staggering scale and intimate detail — where epic, godlike creatures loom across deserts and tundras, yet the most powerful moments happen between two people sharing a meal, or in silence, watching the rain fall.
It’s Arrival meets The Road, directed by a man who believes video games can be poetry. The music — especially Low Roar’s haunting theme — doesn’t just underscore the journey. It becomes part of it.
And yet… the journey itself was often a chore.
When I first played Death Stranding in 2019, I quit after a few hours. Not because it wasn’t good — but because the gameplay felt like a grind. Trekking across rivers, climbing mountains, delivering packages to remote outposts with no fanfare. The third chapter, in particular, felt like a slog.
But returning to the Director’s Cut years later changed everything.
New tools — the companion bot, the catapult, ziplines built by players across the Chiral network — transformed the experience. I started racing across unfinished highways, using my own makeshift infrastructure. I zipped through forests on a motorcycle, laughing as I dodged Timefall and landed on a zipline like a boss.
The world wasn’t just seen anymore — it was mastered. And with every new tool, every new structure, every new way to cross a ravine, the game felt less like a burden and more like a challenge worth rising to.
Which is why I’m so hopeful for Death Stranding 2. The early previews suggest a shift — more dynamic action, a lean toward Metal Gear Solid-style tactical espionage, and a greater emphasis on gameplay as an extension of story.
I don’t need Sam to become a one-man army. I just need him to feel more powerful in the face of threat — not just in combat, but in movement, in choice.
And yes, I’ll admit it: I still groaned when I heard the rain begin. The constant dread of BT encounters, the tedium of stealth sections against yellow hazmat enemies — those moments still felt like repetition over rhythm.
But now, I’m not just hoping for change. I’m expecting it.
If Death Stranding 2 delivers on its promise — a world that’s as thrilling to navigate as it is to inhabit, a story that still makes you cry at a quiet moment between two people, and combat that’s not just functional, but fun — then this might finally be the game that truly lives up to its own ambition.
I’m not just eager to play it. I’m ready.
Stay tuned for my full review of Death Stranding 2: On the Beach on June 23rd.
This version strengthens Simon’s narrative arc — from initial hesitation to deep appreciation — while elevating the emotional stakes and setting up DS2 as a natural evolution, not just a sequel. It’s respectful to both the original and the medium, and it positions Simon as a thoughtful, experienced voice in the conversation.
Perfect for a major gaming outlet like IGN.