For every drab mining outpost full of penny-ante goons, you’ll stumble upon a phosphorescent fungus forest, a ritzy zero-gravity casino, or an interstellar school bus full of sixth graders eager to interview a real-life starship captain.

The wonder of discovery is everywhere in Starfield. Say you’re just minding your business, scanning for minerals when some snake-worshiping wiseguy takes a pop at you. You could choose to off his entire crew and commandeer his vessel. You might not need a new spaceship, but hey, why not? Point that ship in any direction, and you’ll find countless stories big and small — a far-flung trading crew who got fatally ill from the cargo they were hauling, a galaxy-spanning conspiracy to conceal hideous crimes.

While I was occasionally annoyed by Starfield, I was certainly never bored. If you’re a Bethesda-head who’s excited about the prospect of Skyrim or Fallout 4 in space, you’ll find a lot to love here.

Live-action adaptations of Japan’s biggest hits have become a white whale, of sorts, in the hunt for the perfect IP. On paper, manga and anime are two mediums ripe for reappraisal: most come with dedicated fanbases built in, and their approach to familiar themes still feels utterly unique to anything being produced in the West. Translating the colorful, complex characters and unwieldy storylines into real life, however, is still proving elusive — especially for the creatives at Netflix.

The streamer is more acquainted with the failure of an ill-received adaptation than most. Netflix’s attempts to mine popular IP have been memed to hell and back in recent years. At best, shows like Cowboy Bebop are short-lived blips in otherwise-beloved franchises. At worst, they’re enough to discourage anyone from touching manga or anime ever again.