The NBA 2K series is perpetually the most frustrating sports franchise for me. On one hand, NBA 2K delivers the best gameplay of any sports franchise year after year; truly, its ability to replicate the action of its corresponding sport is unmatched even by its strongest contemporaries. Unfortunately, the other side of the coin is that its egregious monetization makes the premium product feel more akin to a free-to-play game. NBA 2K27 continues to deliver (and even refine) the series’ incredible gameplay and unrivaled feature set, but like a star player who can’t shed their bad habits, it too often gets in its own way.
As with every entry since the series’ debut on Dreamcast, I couldn’t wait to step onto the court with the latest rosters. Outside of times when my teammates weren’t aware enough to avoid stepping out of bounds, basketball has rarely felt smoother in video game form. Calling plays on the fly, setting screens, and finding the open teammate to drain a clutch three never ceases to excite. And you’ll need to ensure you’re using all the tools at your disposal to find the best shot possible if you hope to succeed in this year’s entry.
The new rhythm shooting mechanic, where you must release your shot at the exact right time to sink it, adds a new layer of challenge to nailing jumpshots. I struggled at first, but I eventually got the hang of it. Still, I wish it wasn’t an all-or-nothing model; I would vastly prefer it simply buffing or nerfing your shot percentage, rather than outright making you miss if you don’t hit the green part of the meter. Thankfully, if you’d prefer, you can turn it off in most modes and rely solely on your players’ attributes instead.
Scoring is made even more challenging by round defensive boosts, which give insight into where the pressure on the ball handler is and let defenders more aggressively contest shots. The offense earns a bump with a revamped Takeover system that rewards strong play with attribute buffs and special skills, as well as more precise ball handling, but even as my games typically ended with sky-high stat lines, NBA 2K27 feels like the pendulum starting to swing back in favor of the defenders.
The incredible gameplay extends to the most impressive suite of modes in the genre. MyNBA continues its run as the best Franchise mode in all of sports, with options to play in the modern NBA or various eras spread across the last four decades, complete with fairly accurate rosters, draft classes, rules, presentation, and more. I loved jumping into the Jordan Era and seeing if I could craft a team able to take down the legendary ‘90s Bulls. Regardless of if you’re playing in the modern era or one of the retro periods, MyNBA benefits from improved free agency, contract negotiations, and trade mechanics, improving the gold-standard long-form mode. Though you can’t play in other eras of the women’s game, I’m happy to see many of the features of MyNBA implemented into the MyWNBA mode as well.
On the player-focused MyCareer front, 2K27 delivers a compelling narrative starring a high school prospect who derails their career in a car accident and must rebuild in the NBA G League. When it’s at its best, the cinematic story interweaves elements of the off-the-court narrative into gameplay, such as the point guard who won’t pass to you or a 3v3 streetball tourney against NBA stars at Rucker Park, but it quickly nosedives once it introduces your Running Mate, a player meant to be the Robin to your Batman; I thought I’d be rid of him once I escaped to the NBA, but the story twists to land him on your NBA squad too.
Soon, most in-game goals revolve around monitoring your Running Mate’s stat lines as well; it quickly felt like I was responsible for two careers, and it made me wish I had taken the other MyCareer options and played in a retro era or simply skipped the narrative altogether. I play these modes to feel like I’m controlling a young player who is part of an actual NBA squad, but when a random fictional player shadows you at all times, it shatters the immersion.
Speaking of destroying an otherwise immersive career experience, the moment you step outside of your apartment or arena and into the shared hub of The City to either buy new gear or access the online portion of MyCareer, you’re inundated with ads, players zipping around on hoverboards dressed in ridiculous outfits, and even sponsored questlines like one starring Jake from State Farm. It all points towards NBA 2K’s unhealthy relationship with being unsatisfied with the $70 (or more) you already dropped on the game; it also wants you to spend money on VC or, at the very least, see some ads that will earn it additional revenue. Unfortunately, VC serves as one of the key points of frustration for any multi-mode player.
To level up your MyCareer player – even if you’re just in single-player – you must use VC. And just like past games, VC is a shared pool for upgrades and purchases across all game modes. I hate deciding between improving my MyCareer player’s ballhandling skill, buying a new pair of in-game shoes at the Nike store, or spending it in the marketplace in MyTeam.
It’s inevitable that certain modes in modern sports games are built around microtransactions and convoluted currencies, but it’s annoying when they break containment to taint largely single-player modes like MyCareer. This isn’t anything new for the series, but it’s disappointing to see the trend continue year after year. In isolation, MyTeam is a fun mode built around the cards you collect from various NBA eras and the WNBA over the course of play. Whether you play online or offline, MyTeam provides myriad ways to add to your collection on top of the obvious “spend VC to acquire cards” route, but at the end of the day, those who do spend the VC will have the better teams.
NBA 2K27 aptly builds upon features in prior entries, even when parts of that foundation are less sturdy. The gameplay remains stellar, and MyNBA stands tall as the reigning champion of Franchise modes. Unfortunately, MyCareer’s stumbles and the pervasive level of microtransactions cause me to caveat an otherwise easy recommendation.