Sophisticated, intelligent, witty. Not words you usually hear in relation to computer games, but Grim Fandango has them all covered. I’m listening to the soundtrack as I write, and it’s conjuring up images of the world Grim Fandango so effortlessly evokes.

Because I’d hilariously skipped playing some of the better console games, the Wing Commander series was as close as I’d got to an immersive, cinematic gaming experience. I’d played adventure games before, but they were mostly all about click here, talk to this guy, run over there. They had story, they had a setting, but not enough character. Then Grim Fandango came along and showed us how it was done. The game effortlessly captures the film noir atmosphere it’s aiming for, oozing it out of its every pore - from the music, to the characters, to the cutscenes.

In a way, it’s a shame Grim Fandango was such a pioneer. Restricted by the technology of the time, the game is in a style that’s come to be known as “2.5D” - 3D graphics overlaid on pre-generated 2D backdrops. While the end result is still rather nice, and simply lovely in places - see anywhere with a sea view in Rubacava - you can’t help but feel that a true 3D environment would have boosted its cinematic qualities still further.

I completed Grim Fandango in a week. What a pain in the arse. That’s the curse of the great adventure game: before you know it, it’s over, and there’s no way to forget the game so you can play it afresh. Bah.

I’ve spoken about Frontier, the sequel to the seminal 80s classic Elite, here before. It’s the game solely responsible for my continued pursuit of space trade-’em-ups, a genre which, on paper, sounds like the most boring in history. Fortunately, there are odd exceptions where it all works in practice, and Frontier was my First Encounter. Frontier joke for you there.

Although the initial draw of Frontier is obvious enough - it was one of the earliest ‘open-ended’ games, giving you an entire populated universe to pootle around in - I suppose it’s hard to explain why the game is so far up the list. I admit that Hardwar was a better-formed game in a similar vein; Frontier has no plot to speak of; and, having revisited Frontier repeatedly over the years, its flaws and numerous bugs become more and more glaringly obvious as the years go by.

But that’s just it: the fact I have revisited the game at all. It holds a special place in my heart as a game I poured days of effort into, and although I’d be lying if I said it never got old - the inevitable space battles Frontier throws at you if you venture into unfriendly space are boring and repetitive, especially when you’re stuck in a seemingly unending series of them - I kept coming back. There was something indefinable about the game. It’s hard to explain.

While my recent experience with EVE Online was disappointing, I’ll tell you why. It was because I had loved Frontier, and fantasised about an online version where the other ships plying the space lanes were piloted by real people. Well, here was EVE, and it was a reality. It was boring. Was I disappointed? You bet I was.

So then, Frontier. I can only come up with lame arguments for why, but man, it deserves its place here. And check it out: it’s survived the test of time. Perhaps reason enough in itself.

Beyond Good & Evil was a special game. I knew it within minutes of shoving it in the old Gamecube, and the buzz it generated - not just on this blog, but err, on Remi’s too (those were simpler times) - seemed instantly justified.

Alas, although BG&E received critical acclaim (from real people, not just us Internet hoodlums), it escaped the great idiot public’s attention. People ignored the game in their droves, opting instead for FIFA 2004 or some shit, while BG&E languished unloved in bargain bins. A tragedy.

Like Hardwar (and Psychonauts and Grim Fandango), BG&E suffered from the marketeers’ inability to encapsulate its nuanced brilliance in a single pithy sentence, and indeed the impossibility of doing so. “Photojournalism simulator where your uncle is a pig” just doesn’t quite cut it, nor does “superlative adventure game featuring a young heroine who must uncover an intergalactic conspiracy”. “Wonderful all-round gaming experience featuring a series of enjoyable mini-games and great music” falls similarly flat, while the lure of a well-realised alien world replete with half-human, half-animal denizens and beautiful scenery just can’t compete with the wonder of the 50,000 polygons used to model Wayne Rooney’s face.

I sound bitter, you say? That’s right, I’m bitter. Beyond Good and Evil is a criminally overlooked game, a game which should have been recognised as part of the missing link between old-school adventure games and the modern world. As it stands, the game has taken its place in gaming history alongside similarly tragic cases of mistaken identity - mistaken identity on the part of gamers everywhere, who thought it unworthy of their attention. Man, they were wrong.

Hardwar may have less enduring appeal than any other game on my list, but while it had its hooks into me, I played it intensely. For a few short months, it didn’t just have me addicted. It consumed me.

The game pitches you as an intrepid pilot struggling to eke a living on the inhospitable moon of Titan, having been abandoned (along with the rest of the population) by the merciless mining corporations a hundred years ago. So far, so Elite meets Total Recall.

However, what sets Hardwar apart from its generic space-trading brethren is the execution. The game world, in contrast to the vast algorithm-generated voids of Elite or the X trilogy, is compact, hand-crafted, and - most importantly - teeming with life. Where other trading games revolve around markets and numbers, being essentially glorified stock-market simulators, Hardwar throws you into a living, breathing world. Not an in-game day goes by without you being targeted by pirates, swooping in to plunder the spoils of someone else’s space battle, or spotting a hapless trader carrying goods that just demand special attention.

Hardwar’s optional storyline is the icing on the cake. Those who decide to take a break from hardcore trading to respond to the cryptic in-game emails stumble upon that staple of video-game plot devices, the global conspiracy. The true nature of the grimy, corrupt custodians of Titan is gradually revealed to the player through a combination of in-game missions and delightfully offbeat FMV sequences. The live action footage is undeniably made on a shoestring, but man, it’s great.

Hardwar may hold the dubious honour of being by far the most obscure game on my list, but I’d like to think that poor sales were no reflection on its quality. It was simply released at the wrong time, and - like games from Psychonauts to Grim Fandango which shared its fate - was impossible to market in a single sentence.

I’ll say it up front: Quake is the highest-placed first-person shooter on my list. And I know what you’re thinking. Of all the FPS games in all the world, why did I have to pick Quake? What does this dinosaur of a game have to offer that more refined, recent examples of the genre don’t?

The answer, for me, is uncomplicated fun. Since the halcyon days of Quake, when even being able to jump in a first-person shooter was a novel innovation, developers have sought to evolve the genre through the addition of what I can only term ’stuff’. Stuff like recoil on your gun, the need to stop firing and reload, missions and objectives, squad-based wrangling and, worst of all, the concept of stamina. While these features combine to give the player a more complete gaming experience, they’re not what I would call fun.

And fun is what Quake provides, in pure unadulterated form. Not for id Software the trappings of plot and storyline; no, Quake’s single-player mode threw you into a quasi-medieval, semi-futuristic landscape of zombies, ogres, gargantuan alien creatures and knights, all fiendish in their own way and none of them fitting any kind of theme, beyond “these guys are trying to kill you, kill them first”. Similarly, the deathmatch mode has no storm-the-base, free-the-hostages mission nonsense - just frag everyone in sight before they blow your face off.

Quake’s enduring appeal is part of what keeps it in the top ten, from its active open-source community who are still beavering away on the engine - with impressive results - to the numerous developers who have paid homage, such as Valve with their Deathmatch Classic mod for Half-Life. If you haven’t had much fun in a shooter for a while, give Quake another chance. You’ll be laughing as you rip some sap a new one with your quad rocket within minutes.