If Hallmark Christmas movies are always hammering one point home (aside from the fact that cute female elves on sabbatical will always run into a disaffected but good-at-heart businessman to fall in love with), it's that the spirit of Christmas is bigger and more important than any concrete, surface trappings.

And so it is with games. While some have Christmas settings - or the odd Christmas level, at least - the longer term nature of playing a game means that compared to films, they don't lend themselves as well to overt seasonality. But there is a solution. Evoke the feeling of Christmas without specifically being a Christmas game. You might not notice at first, but it happens in plenty of them. Loads of them, in fact. So I've collected together eight of the best, furtively festive offerings for your perusing pleasure. Forget those quickly-made, cash-in iOS efforts. Fire one of these up over the holidays, and you'll be ho-ho-hoing with the best of them*.

*The best of them being of course Santa. He is the best of all of us.

Is really Christmassy because: While not actually set during The Season (a point later emphasised when prequel/slightly inbred cousin Arkham Origins specifically set its procession of crime-fighting glitches on Christmas Eve), Arkham City feels exceptionally festive, despite all the grim-dark misery at play. I think it basically comes down to the fact that between the snow and the more colourful, Burton-esque bits of production design in the city-prison's centre, the whole thing frequently feels like Batman Returns. ie. The third-best Christmas film ever made, after Scrooged and Die Hard, and slightly above Gremlins.

In fact it's rather telling that Warner Montreal's more explicitly Christmassy prequel actually feels less so, despite all the baubles and tinsel on show. It could be a case of diminishing returns through repetition. That would be a shame. After all, the wintery themes in Origins were an important and committed design choice. Not just an excuse to reuse as many of City's assets as possible for a quick turnaround. Definitely not that. They were important.

Is really Christmassy because: Cool, Cool Mountain. The slightly alpine look of the whole level; all cosy, wooden huts, icicles, ski-lifts and mountain bridges, amplified to a delirious level of wholesome, festive joy by the jaunty, European vibe of the giddy accordion soundtrack. Also, coin collection noise = subliminal sleigh bells. Fact. That’s some smart dovetailing of aesthetics right there.

Though that shouldn’t be a surprise. This is a Nintendo game, after all, and Nintendo is effectively the video game Disney. As such, winter stuff is automatically elevated to full-blown Christmas joy, and Christmas itself must be treated with all the benevolent magic of a friendly wizard with an infinite hospitality budget. This vibe, unsurprisingly, continues through pretty much all Mario snow levels from SM64 onwards.

Is really Christmassy because: The whole Snowpeak section of Twilight Princess is a 150% perfect, condensed evocation of a Christmassy day out in the snow. First of all there's the giddy fun of the snowboard ride down the mountain. That's your childhood afternoon's sledging, that is. Then there's your entry to Snowpeak ruins, and the discovery that it's not a traditional, abstract Zelda dungeon, but a cosy, family home complete with the most wonderful recreation of an open fire that video games (and in fact science itself) could possibly ever produce. That's your 'coming home to a warm sofa and a big mug of cocoa' moment.

Then there's the way the contrast is repeated, as the ‘dungeon’s design demands that you frequently go out into the crisp, frosty grounds, before returning back inside. Nothing emphasises festive cosiness more than repeatedly going out into cold places and then back into warm places. And hey, you even get a present along the way. And what kid hasn't wanted a giant, wall-crushing flail for Christmas as some point? Lame kids. That's who.

Is really Christmassy because: Snow + festival atmosphere = Christmas, each and every time. Well, not every time. A freak blizzard around the main stage at a black metal fest wouldn't feel particularly Christmassy. Darkly epic, with all the terrible, Nordic majesty of a thousand '80s album covers, certainly. But not Christmassy.

But in SSX's case? When the festival vibe is that of a cool, fun community who seem to be permanently off work, hanging out and partying in an upbeat celebration of all things snow? With fireworks and neon standing in for fairy lights? Throw in a boys' choir/glockenspiel cover of N.E.R.D.'s Rock Star, and the picture is complete.

Is really Christmassy because: If it wasn't for the frequent imperial occupation and impending End of the World, Narshe would be the perfect, quiet Christmas getaway. It's small, it's unspoilt, it’s discrete, and good Lord is it a delightfully snug little place to hole up in. All those coal and log burners warming the place up, and filling the air with their soft billows of smoke and steam. The big, picturesque, eminently snowy mountains behind it, which frame the town beautifully, while also sheltering it from the worst of the northern storms.

And crucially, like all of Final Fantasy VI, Narshe is as steampunk as it gets. And as we all know, that puts it one step away from Victoriana, and therefor but two steps away from the most canonically Christmassy period in human history.

Is really Christmassy because: Call it the consumerist death-trance of the human soul if you like, but the pre-Christmas trawl around the shops can be an integral ritual in the run-up to the main event. Pick the right day, leave you misanthropy at home, and the all-pervading glow of red-and-gold cheer emanating from those shop windows can really kickstart the excitable, fun loving spirit. If only by firing up the instinct that had you standing in games shops, ogling the Super Mario World demo for hours on end for much of that December when you were a kid.

The original Condemned understands the importance of all that. That’s why, despite not being set at Christmas, the Bart’s Department Store level inhabits a Christmas time-warp, the long-dilapidated shop having gone under during the festive period many years before, and still filled with the trappings of the happiest time of year. And murderous crack-heads. And human mannequins. And casually discarded firearms. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Is really Christmassy because: The entire region of Skyrim is made of snow, fir trees, fires and roasting meat, and every third person you meet looks like young Santa. Also, Scandinavian accents. And there's that whole Christmas/skeletal dragon connection too.

What, you don't know that one? Seriously? You'll be telling me you've never heard of the Easter Unicycle Knight next. You big weirdo.

Is really Christmassy because: Just look at the state of Froenborg! Just look at it! The place is one big, inhabited Christmas cake, its buildings carved from the finest spiced sponge, its snow a veritable heaping of delicious, sweet icing. And that’s before you even .

Also note that although it’s technically ensconced within Russia, Level-5 gave Froenborg a distinctly cod-Scandinavian name regardless. That shows nothing but the studio’s tireless commitment to Christmassiness in the face oppressive, geographical logic. It matters to them, goddamn it. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere too, about how if Santa can be everywhere in one night, Christmas can as well. Or something. But probably definitely that.

I'm just going to jump straight to the request for comments here, because that desperate pun was all I could come up with for a headline, and I don't want to waste its meagre value by losing momentum.

And while you're here, have a look at some our other Christmas-themed features. Check out (those ones aren't Christmassy at all).

Elder Scrolls: Oblivion marked the start of a new era of gaming in more ways than one. It brought many into then-new-gen gaming, sold people on the Xbox 360, and notoriously set the bar for insulting DLC. Oblivion’s Horse Armor is a famously poor example of downloadable content, charging players $2.50 / £1.70 for some extra equine protection that did absolutely nothing besides make your four-legged ride glimmer in the sunlight. It quickly becoming a cautionary tale in how not to handle DLC- but that 2006 offense to gamer's wallets seems quaint when compared to some of the downloadable mistakes that followed.

Despite consumer backlash, publishers always seem a little too willing to test the limits of how much they can charge for additional content. And consumers have always been ready to let them know where that limit is. Read on to see some of the most ludicrous ‘enhancements’ gaming has seen in the recent past...

You won’t hear me complaining about Asura’s Wrath’s on-disc content. It’s an entertainingly excessive quest for revenge fueled by one man’s unending rage, all told in a clever episodic structure influenced by anime. It’s a great story, so you think I’d be hyped for more episodes being offered as paid DLC. However, the excitement recedes when you realize you’re paying $7 / £4.69 for the actual ending to the game.

Spoiler warning: The campaign ends with Asura discovering who’s really responsible for all the horrible things that happened to him. At first it seems like setup for a sequel, but Asura’s final battle with his nemesis and any actual sense of closure or resolution are all available for purchase in Episode Pack: Part 4. Perhaps worse than ransoming off the finale is the fact that the main campaign’s hard-to-unlock secret ending acts as nothing more than a preview of said DLC pack. That’s like finishing the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with a link to a website where you can buy the last two chapters.

Tiger Woods is famous for two things - extramarital affairs and no-nonsense golf. You’ll find a good deal of the latter in his sim-heavy sports games, featuring as many real-world courses as fans can get their hands on. And those fans are fine with working to unlock extras - but not if the game constantly reminds you that you could just pay $5 to get it right now, as is the case with Tiger Woods 13.

Even if you buy the full game, 14 of its courses can’t be touched unless you spend currency, either in-game or real cash. But the hard-earned in-game gold only unlocks one 18-hole round at a time, and if you want to fully unlock said courses it takes an ungodly amount of effort and skill to complete the necessary challenges. Concurrently, as you’re slaving away on the green, the game is quick to remind you that it could all be skipped with a little extra cash. If this seems like EA execs chose to follow the poor example of freemium Facebook and iPhone apps, that’s because, well, .

WWE is sports entertainment, which is PR speak for pro wrestling. That said, the recent WWE games are certainly acting like sports games, with annual releases and cover athlete photoshoots, and they have an unfortunately similar approach to DLC. Beyond the expected season pass, the last two WWE entries include a paid-for bonus called the Accelerator. That may sound like it makes wrestlers move at triple speed, but it’s a bit sidious than that.

WWE games have hundreds of unlockables, including dozens of playable superstars, and you normally get them by completing the single-player mode’s numerous objectives. It can take a long, long time - especially when facing the nigh-unbeatable John Cena - but for $2 / £1.59 you can save yourself all those hours with the Accelerator, which unlocks it all instantaneously. It’s arguably a low price, though it feels a bit more devious than consumer-friendly, especially when “unlock everything” codes were free in older games. The Accelerator is a necessity for gamers with limited time on their hands, working like a tax for anyone that want every possible exhibition match-up immediately.

The Saboteur tries its best to make something fun out of the extremely depressing idea of freeing occupied France during the second World War. Killing Nazis as an Irish racecar driver certainly sounds like a hoot, as does the idea of the leading man hiding out in a Parisian burlesque house. It’s the setting to some risque scenes, along with one of gaming’s most ridiculous concepts: DLC nipples.

See, the ladies of the Belle de Nuit strip club are fittingly underdressed for their profession, but their nipples are usually covered by pasties. If (for some reason) you wanted to go the extra mile and see absolutely everything above the digital waistline, that’ll cost you an extra $3. You have to give EA credit for finding a new avenue to collect a few extra dollars via a player’s libido. The Saboteur’s servers have since been shut off, and the topless DLC has vanished as a result, so count yourself lucky(and a little ashamed) if you were able to get into this exclusive club before then.

BioWare makes massive RPGs and is also known for selling extra story missions of varying spaces and sizes. Dragon Age: Origins was one of BioWare’s earliest games to normalize this DLC practice, which is fine if that story content is optional (looking at you Mass Effect: The Arrival). However, I’d say it gets obnoxious when an NPC villager becomes a walking billboard for additional content.

As you walk around Redcliffe Village, you’ll spot a number of characters with a highlighted objective over their head. Talking to them will further your quest, but one unnamed man starts giving you all the details on a certain quest, then ends with a plea to start the quest by purchasing it with real money. Much like a play would be ruined by an actor stopping mid scene to beg the audience for spare change, this type of DLC destroys the immersion instantly. Would it have been such a crime to simply put that in a menu instead, or was that not aggressive enough for the corporate suits?

This iOS game may seem like a trifle, but it actually represents the current low point in Final Fantasy’s long history. The simple touch interface appears inoffensive, but just beneath the surface are some of the cruelest microtransactions imaginable. Not only are you faced with waiting hours to revive your team or paying Square Enix money to bring them back immediately, but DLC characters are insultingly locked behind a random lottery.

Standard Operating Procedure for DLC: Game X offers to unlock character Y for price Z, which you either pay or don’t. If you’re playing All The Bravest and want to add Final Fantasy 7 star Cloud Strife to the game, you can pay $1 and maybe unlock him as a randomly pulled character from the 35 unlockable possibilities. If you’re particularly unlucky and get every character but Cloud, you’ll spend more than $34 before you can play as the spiky-haired icon. Having to gamble to unlock characters that would’ve been freely unlockable a decade ago is pretty obscene, even by mobile game standards.

Sonic Adventure was celebrated when it hit the West in 1999, only to be widely judged as overrated when an upgraded version came to the GameCube in 2003. Because one re-release simply wasn’t enough, gamers would get a whole new chance to reexamine Sonic’s Dreamcast premiere when Sega ported the game to PS3 and 360 in 2010. Unfortunately, it costs you some extra green to get the complete version of this HD remake.

For about half of the game’s $5 asking price, you can buy Sonic Adventure’s DX Upgrade, which unlocks all the extra missions and modes that were in the GameCube edition. Of course, that DX version update isn’t all that complete, because the GC release came with several unlockable Game Gear games, none of which are included with the DLC. And really, why would Sega give away those games today when they can just sell them in a separate collection?

As an American child growing up the 1980s, television instilled in me a near-endless love for Transformers, be they toys, cartoons, or games (but I draw the line at Michael Bay films). War For Cybertron is a loving throwback to the Transformers of my youth, crafting a surprisingly serious tale of Autobots waging their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons. You could even reskin the robots to look like their classic ‘80s characters, but only if you bought your game from a specific retailer (or waited for an unspecified amount of time).

As I , you had to buy WFC from specific retailers to unlock classic designs of the likes of Jazz and Demolisher, or you paid a crazy price for those codes on sites like eBay. Short of buying the game multiple times at different outlets, there was no other way for die hard fans to play as some of the most beloved Transformers - at least, not at first. Months later, and without warning, Activision made all those skins available in a couple of $5 DLC packs, which must have felt real nice for all the folks that paid $200 for them mere weeks earlier. Maybe next time you can give your biggest fans some advance notice before they spend a small fortune just to play as Shockwave?

Just kidding! But if you recall any DLC that you found unforgivable, tell me all about it in the comments. I promise, there are no hidden fees to do that.

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