A cube of meat that dies a thousand times to save his bandage girlfriend, and you start over grinning.

When the community picks on gut feeling, Super Meat Boy lands in the lower part of the table, but on just two votes, so nothing settled. The criteria confirm rather than contradict. Fun does best, ahead of around a quarter of games. Art direction and desert island linger low, ahead of a fifth of titles. The soundtrack hovers around the lower middle, on a single vote so take it lightly. The controller feel stays low, and connection plunges right to the bottom, ahead of barely 3% of games. There's the paradox of a game adored by enthusiasts: on these questions of emotion and aesthetics, it doesn't find its audience.

In the world of demanding platformers, it's a benchmark for precision and difficulty. But what built its reputation, pixel-perfect jump mastery, isn't really what these criteria, tilted toward attachment and feeling, measure.

So, who is it for? For you if you live for the challenge, instant death and the satisfaction of a perfect run. Much less so if you want a game that marks you emotionally or a world you fall in love with.