Just a quick note. Again, this is a review I wrote several years ago. I’ve redrafted it a fair bit, but if the writing isn’t up to my usual ‘caliber’ blame it on the impetuosity of youth. Anyhoo, thought this might be relevant for anyone still hungry for another serving of Liberty City-lawlessness after their GTA IV exploits.
The portable Italian gaming sensation hits PS2 with nary a drain pipe or goomba in site.
When Liberty City Stories was released for the PSP back in October 2005 it was undoubtedly the magnum opus the fledging handheld had been waiting for. Gamers looked passed the features lost from San Andreas – like multiple cities, the loss of the RPG elements and flying – and enjoyed an experience no portable title had ever offered. While the release of LBS on PS2 highlights the limitations of the PSP it also, more importantly, demonstrates how an effectively seven year old title can still stand up, thanks to the ingenuity and programming skills of Rockstar Games.
Homecoming scream
Returning to the – exceptionally – mean streets of the titular New York-inspired city four years before the events of GTA 3 in 1998, you’re place in the role of Tony Cipriani, an exiled mafia hood and all round ‘wise guy’. The adventures that follow are typical GTA fare; fast driving, wonky shooting and copious amounts of carnage. Granted, it’s a familiar formula, but originally flogged at a knock-down 20 quid, Rockstar always recognised they were releasing a rehash. Which leaves you with two ways of looking at LBS: A) as a cheap, cynical way of pumping you for pasos or B) the best budget title you’re likely to see on your PS2. For those that follow option B, expect to have more fun with this former pint-sized crime caper than the late Marlon Brando with a crate full of cannelloni.
The first thing any long term GTA fan will notice is the rough edges around the game; symptoms of the PSP’s lack of power. This being a straight port the same problems which plagued its predecessor still remain. The absence of planes and helicopters may be too much for those of you spoiled on San Andreas. The missions are far shorter and less taxing. While the lack of polish and unifying identity across the game’s radio stations pale in comparison to the painstaking recreation and cultural relevance of 80’s hits represented in Vice City. Arguably the worst omission, though, is something most of you’ll have probably taken for granted since GTA 3; cutscenes.
Set the scene
Go back to any of the first three PS2 games and you’ll be treated to a host of superbly directed story scenes, which always put you in the mood to maim, mangle and murder. Unfortunately, due to limitations in the size of PSP discs, the majority of scenes in LBS are shot from one angle with no lip synching. In a word, they look as appealing Anne Widdecombe – amazing how that reference stands the test of time, eh? Ok, so the more important story missions are given the proper GTA treatment, looking just as good as anything seen in San Andreas. But it’s the sheer lack of these proper cutscenes that hurt the game, with around 70% of them looking like they’ve been directed by a first time skin flick helmer. While this might sound like nitpicking, you’ll quickly realise how much more enthused you are over a mission which has a proper cutscene than those without. And what was a forgivable omission in catering for the limitations of PSP’s tiny screen and lack of UMD space, is an unforgivable – and lazy – oversight in the translation to PS2.
In gameplay terms, though, the PS2 version fairs much better than its little brother, thanks to the benefit of two analogue sticks and a proper 3D camera (which can be constantly maneuvered) that helps make driving more precise. Admittedly, the shooting and targeting are still horrible – often locking onto an innocent OAP over the chainsaw wielding freak cutting your head off. But this can be forgiven, as the vast majority of missions are mainly focused around the driving mechanics. This is where LBS really shines too, with a sophisticated handling model, similar to the one in San Andreas, making the variety of vehicles in the game more responsive and engaging than those of GTA 3 or Vice City. The inclusion of bikes also gives city travel another welcome and diverting dimension.
Where controls may have been catered to suit your PS2, the same cannot be said of the game’s missions. Most have clearly been designed for Sony’s handheld, with the majority of them clocking in at around five minutes. While this may be perfect for short bus trips, the transition to your front room is jarring. And, though, later missions do get more complex and challenging, they never reach the heights of San Andreas’ multi-tasked murderous mischief. On the other hand, some players will undoubtedly cherish the more pick-up-and-play nature of proceedings – there’s now more time to just dick about and replaying missions is much less stressful. While Rockstar’s imagination and humour mean you’ll rarely feel bored or like you’re treading water.
Mr. sandbox man
Like past GTAs the series’ real strength has always been in the sheer amount of things to do outside the story missions. Liberty City remains a blank canvas with which to paint your criminal capers. And whether you’re driving a taxi, doing your best Harry Callahan chasing down crooks in a cop car, or even trying to cradle your conscience by ferrying the injured to hospital; the city is always alive with possibility. Rockstar have given you a sandbox of depravity, replacing the plastic spades and buckets with katanas and flamethrowers. And the amount of violent, inventive ways you can exploit these tools is only limited by your free time and how many homicidal fantasies you have to vent.
Played the PSP game to death? Leave this in the bargain bin. But, if you’re feeling all nostalgic after Niko’s nefarious deeds in GTA IV, you could do worse than booking another trip to Rockstar’s Rotten Apple. And it speaks volumes for the company’s ability as developers and artists that a glorified 2001 title can still beat the Bruschetta out of any of its competitors. Crime may not pay, but it’s still fantastic fun blowing up a subway, decapitating some Yakuza and dressing a fat Italian like a ‘Kill Bill’ reject. And, for a few measly quid, ‘ey, forgetaboutit!’
The following is the most rampant rant I’ve ever spewed forth on this blog. Warning! First three rows may get an opinion.
Nintendo’s Wii console is something of an enigma. It has broken technological boundaries with its motion sensitive controller, but it is also woefully underpowered for the HD era. In its short 18 month lifespan it has homed some of the finest ‘proper’ games anywhere – think Zelda: Twilight Princess,Metroid Prime 3: Corruption and the magical Mario Galaxy, but it’s not these titles that have been the system shifters. It will undoubtedly become the Big N’s most successful home console of all time, but Ninty may well lose their soul for the achievement.
Growing up with the SNES, the N64 and the Gamecube, it was always apparent that Nintendo never quite reached the levels of success they deserved. While Ninty have long ruled the handheld market, from the time of the original Gameboy right through to the days of DS, they have constantly struggled to gain a strong foothold in the console market. The quality of their software, especially their first party games, was always of the highest caliber. Looking at the N64, it had some of the greatest games of all time; easily a match for the number of essential exclusives on the opposing Playstation One. The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and Mario 64 are arguably the two most important videogames of the 3D age. But, because the N64’s cartridges were far more expensive to produce than Sony’s CDs, developers shied away from taking risks on the format (leaving the console with a poor catalogue of third party titles), which meant it could never compete with Sony’s box housing the likes of Metal Gear, Final Fantasy and Resident Evil.
The Gamecube was the same story. Fantastic first party software – you really can’t go wrong with the Wind Waker, Two 3D Metroids and Mario Sunshine – was again let down by a lack of third party support – excluding Resi 4, of course. The cute and cuddly Cube was marred with the same ‘just for the kiddies’ image as the 64. And as Nintendo were facilitating their fanboys with Mario, Link and Samus, letting the casual crowd pass them by, Sony were finally penetrating the mainstream conscience with edgy Wipeout ads and unprecedented marketing campaigns.
It’s no surprise then that the unveiling of the Wii – where the company proudly proclaimed their console would conquer that consciousness – at E3 2006 was met with sniggers and a tirade of tutting. Apart from being a punner’s paradise – the wag who dubbed it the ‘Wiinus’ must be particularly proud – it had a strange and confusing controller and technically was no match for Microsoft’s 360 or Sony’s PS3. Nevertheless, the Wii has become a rampant success story amassing a user base of tens of millions in less than two years. And why? Simple. Ninty, after four failed attempts, finally found the casual crowd.
Yep, the heart of the Big N was no longer to be found in the land of Hyrule, a manic Mazza triple jump, or the haunting solitude of an Aran adventure; but in the vapid, shallow realm of the party game, flailing about like a blindfolded baboon and the blindingly white teeth of models. Ninty had found their success not through programming ingenuity or artistic mastery, but through slick marketing moguls, intuitive – if not fully realized – motion controls and, more than anything else, through families.
Conquering the casual market by grabbing grannies’ attention with something they could understand and play as easily as their grandkids was the key for Nintendo. And it’s ultimately what the Wii’s success has been built on. Quite why anyone would want to sit around with their family while dad grimaces and grinds to a sesh of Wii Fit is beyond me – really you lazy sods, join a gym and reclaim your dignity. I can however, see the appeal of the party game, and for a medium that has continually been chastised for encouraging insular, unsocial behaviour, the Wii’s success is testament to the wonderful social tool videogames can become.
Still, even, though, I’ve loved Nintendo for many years, I can’t help resent them for their success. Don’t get me wrong, after years of producing some of the most beloved characters and games the industry has even seen they fully deserve the mountains of moolah they’re now amassing. But it’s not really those characters or games that are dragging in the Dinero. No, it’s annoying Ian Wright ads, the image of the beautiful, and soulless tele family playing Wii Sports and housewives everywhere trying to fight the fat with Wii Fit. Nintendo have seemingly never worked less for so much success.
A company who produced the greatest games of all time and got ignored for over a decade to a company who peddled fun, but ultimately shallow and soulless, family games that captured the world’s imagination.
Last week Konami announced that Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots would, contrary to popular perception, not be the final game in the acclaimed stealth series. Well, mark this blogger surprised. After more farewell tours than the Rolling Stones, The Who and The Sex Pistols combined, it genuinely appeared that visionary creator Hideo Kojima was about to can the codec once and for all. Granted, his departure from the Gear has had more false endings than the Return of the King. But with Snake finally packing up his fags and rolling up his stealth suit the time now feels right for his creator to sneak into the sunlight with him.
I’m convinced June 12th will mark the dawn of PS3’s finest moment to date – Patriots will surely be the black behemoth’s finest exclusive. It will also almost certainly see the sun set on the mulleted one and Koj. So the real question is, can the Metal Gear franchise continue without its two biggest icons? Note the use of the ‘f’ word. I absolutely hate it. It’s a crass word cooked up by soulless money men, looking for moolah rather than (artistic) merit. Going on without Koj – if that were to be the case – would smack of prolonging the shelf-life of the series past its natural tonal ending. ‘Tonal ending’? Ooh er, sounds like something out of a bad Carry On sketch. What I mean to say, is Patriots feels like the sensible point of closure for the series. We started this journey with him two decades ago as he struggled to infiltrate Outer Heaven – a military haven his old man created for soldiers – and now, after all the figurative backstabbing, literal backstabbing and comedy capers with cardboard, we’re returning there. And it feels like – especially from a narrative standpoint – things have come full circle.
I used the word ‘franchise’ earlier because, to me, it represents something that marketing bots listlessly peddle out. Metal Gear without Snake’s ‘too old for this shit’ moaning mannerisms and, particularly, Koj’s mad but peerless vision would feel like a game franchise, and not the pretentious mess of polygons, preaching and unrivaled stealth mechanics I love.
Don’t get me wrong, the developers at Kojima Productions – the makers of MGS – are some of the finest artists and technicians in games. And I’m certain whatever they produced post Koj would still be a cut above Splinter Cell and the rest of the pretenders to Snake’s crown. To me, though, the heart of the Gear has never been in the wonderfully polished mechanics, sweeping scores or lush visuals. No, it exists in those mad moments of complete self-serving lunacy. Rubber ducks popping up in Sons of Liberty, Mantis using your pad’s rumble to physically move it across the floor in MGS1, or shooting Ape Escape’s mischievous monkeys in Snake Eater. The type of moments you just know never would have seen the light of day had the money men had their say.
Completely starkers in other words. And unmistakably Kojima.
Can these moments survive in future Gears without gaming’s greatest visionary? Only time will tell.
(Please note that this review only covers the single player portion of the game. You can thank my dodgy DSL connection for that one. Although I have had a quick go on Cops & Crooks, which is almost worth the asking price alone.)
So good, it’s criminal
GTA’s return to Liberty City marks the creation of the most fulfilling, beautifully detailed and believable game world ever created. Fact. The immersion while playing in Rockstar North’s New York-inspired Rotten Apple is total, thanks to an utterly convincing atmosphere that pours from every polygon – we can just see the thousands of sickies, failed exams and plummets in personal hygiene, now. Whether it’s standing on the beaches of Alderney as the sun sets and sparkles over the peaks of Algonquin – The Edinburgh based developers’ take on Manhattan. ‘Accidentally’ catching a cop in the door of your Banshee and proceeding to drag the Liberty lawman for ten blocks as his limbs realistically crumble and pound against the pavement (thank you Euphoria physics engine). Or taking time out from the bevy of botched bank heists, drug runs and mafia meets to watch Ricky Gervais on the box. (Yep, all of your safehouses are now fitted with fully working teles. And yeah, we are lazy sods.) But even though all these factors combine to make IV’s murderous metropolis the most absorbing game world we’ve ever seen, it’s the small piece of plastic in Niko Bellic’s back pocket that’ll really grab your attention.
Phoning it in
Go back a couple of months to preview code and the inclusion of a phone seemed like a clever, if slightly unnecessary, addition to the game. What a difference 62 days make. Not only does your mobile bind the world together, helping to cement the concept of taking part in a fully formed, believable life, it’s also the most valuable weapon you’ll ever get Niko’s dastardly digits on. Not to sound like some crass advertising campaign, but it really is more than just a phone. Aside from being able to customize it with wallpapers and comedy ringtones – we defy you to pick anything other than the lesbian one – it’s utterly essential for travel and keeping up relations with other characters – more on that later. You can call a cab through it. Heal yourself with it (Just dial 911 and 2 for an ambulance). It can be used to detonate bombs. It can help you with hits. It can take pics. You can arrange to go to the pub. Take your cousin for some grub. Go on a date. Go out bowling with Kate. The possibilities are dizzying. And your phone doesn’t just make life in Liberty easier; it completely facilitates it.
While the mobile is a standout feature, the incidental details that are sewn throughout the city’s streets are equally impressive. Pedestrians that complain and use brollies in the rain, the way Niko subtly pushes his way through a crowd, to the flames of a towering industrial site blowing fiercely in one of the game’s new pad-rumbling storms; there are literally dozens of quiet moments that’ll stop you in your tracks. A lot of these small details are thanks to Rockstar’s new RAGE engine, powered by the aforementioned Euphoria physics, which lends everything a proper sense of motion and weight. Before, running someone over felt like wiping a bluebottle from your windscreen, but now it feels like the bone-breaking, wince-inducing, weighty collision it really is…erm, we’d imagine <cough>. A fully functioning internet – rammed to the rafters with the series’ scathing satire – rounds off a world that you genuinely feel exists in spite of Niko, rather than because of him.
We’re glad it exists because of him, though, because Mr. Bellic is easily the most charming, sympathetic and downright likeable lead (not bad for a brutal, murdering sociopath) the series has seen. Haunted by his Eastern European past, and broken by war, he’s well drawn, well realized and three dimensional, and a big departure from the amoral assassins of past games. He’s well backed up too, with IV’s supporting cast the funniest, darkest and most imminently charming ensemble (again, not bad for a bunch of brutal, murdering sociopaths) Rockstar have put together. From Brucie, the bull shark testosterone-beefed up fitness freak, your cowardly, compulsive gambler cousin Roman, to the McCreary brothers, who range from a drug-addled repentant dreamer to a corrupt cop; they’ve all got fingers in Liberty’s many illegal pies. The cast is actually funny too. Expect plenty of proper belly laughs rather than the cordial head-nodding approval past GTA scripts warranted.
Forever friends
And you’ll do well to keep in with them all, as wining and dining them (that’ll be a trip to the Pink Triangle ‘gentleman’s establishment’ and a cheap Burger Shot, then) will reward you with each character’s individual perk. Live it up with little Jacob and you can buy cheap guns from him. Pal around with Packie and you’ll be rewarded with bombs for that special massacre. Or bribe Brucie by taking him to Algonquin’s top poser points and he’ll become your personal helicopter pilot. Juggling multiple relationships around a tight schedule of taking missions, making appointments and dicking around is challenging – thankfully your phone has an organizer to help you keep track of things. But ultimately, the responsibility of choice that Rockstar give you helps inform who you want Niko to be. And the friendships you keep are a far more subtle, deeper form of shaping a character than the constant carousel of changing haircuts or piling on the pounds of San Andreas.
Choice is taken even further at vital junctions in the story when you’re asked to make life or death decisions about key characters. Do you whack a Mafia mark or show mercy? Spoiler begins > Kill Playboy X or Dwayne? Get revenge on that old enemy or turn the other cheek? spoiler ends < While the consequences of these decisions never really manifest themselves in the story, they do at least bring something new to the GTA party. Guilt. And the sensation of regret you’ll feel after you make a choice you can’t go back from will stay with you long after the smoking gun – spoiler begins > we felt like we’d just run over Bambi after reading an email from Dwayne after we’d already killed him. spoiler ends < It’s engaging stuff and shows tremendous potential for future games if taken further.
The plot is also gripping, feeling both hugely modern – thanks to the immigrant influence and references to the war on terror. And emotionally jarring – it’s often downbeat and affecting. The only real complaint we have slight spoiler begins > is the final few story strands feel more disparate and low-key than the hedonistic heights of Vice City or the shameless excess of San Andreas’ finale. Although it could be argued that this is in line with the game’s more minimalist narrative. slight spoiler ends <
Fun-and-gun
You can probably tell what an accomplishment GTA IV is when you realize it’s taken us seven paragraphs to talk about the game’s most improved mechanic. A mechanic that has undergone such a radical overhaul it’s now arguably the highlight of the game. We’re obviously talking about the much improved shooting system, which now makes the game’s firefights a real joy. In past GTAs, getting your gun out was always something to endure. Now it’s something to cherish. An improved auto aim – which will actually lock onto the uzi-wielding crack dealer two feet in front of you, rather than a granny doing her groceries half a block away, like previous games – is an absolute godsend. But it’s the newly implemented cover system that really gives gun battles new layers of depth, strategy and character.
Anyone who’s spent time in the company of Nathan Drake’s bumbling buffoonery will feel instantly at home with the system. Clicking R1 snaps you to cover, L1 handles aiming, while pressing R2 fires your weapon. You can also blindfire around any obstacle you’re hidden behind, by pressing R2 on its own. Though less accurate than aiming normally, it’s a safer way of crippling cops. And the shooting is now so precise and the set pieces build around the mechanics so tightly designed that GTA now rivals dedicated shooters (like Gears of War) for sheer visceral headshot-popping thrills. It’s crisp, it’s clever and it’s wonderfully clinical.
Of course, where in Uncharted and GOW you have to use cover to survive, you’re not bound to the same limitations with Niko. Sure, you could use cover to methodically murder those goons, or maybe you could find higher ground and take them out with a sniper rifle. But then again, mowing them down in a tasty little turquoise Turismo – one of the game’s fancier sports cars – would be equally effective. Not flash enough? Well, just rig an ice cream van with one of Packie’s bombs, jump out at the last second and ring the dodgy delinquent to detonate it. Simple, eh? It’s this scope for improvisation that the open-world brings which sets GTA apart from other action games, ultimately, lending missions massive replay value. And where the series used to flounder out of the car; now it flourishes.
Drive of your life
By comparison, vehicle handling required little work. And what used to be the most enjoyably throw-around arcade experience you could find is… well, still is the most enjoyably throw-around arcade experience you’ll find. Granted, vehicles do have a little more weight, meaning you can’t chuck them around corners with the same reckless abandon of San Andreas. But to contrast this, the subtlety of vehicle handling now feels far more varied. And it’s easy to appreciate the difference between a sturdy but clunky SUV, trucks that have the turning circle of a concrete hearse or a nippy convertible.
Bikes don’t fair quite as well, mind. It takes real effort to drag them around corners at times. And it’s still all too easy, and far too painful to watch Niko greet the pavement with his puss (no thanks Euphoria physics engine) to make it an entirely practical way to travel around the city. Boats and choppers are much the same as in previous games, with the latter’s cockpit cam the only way to truly appreciate Algonquin’s stunning skyscrapers. SixAxis controls have been included for every type of transport – tumbleweed rolls slowly past – but the surgical finger dexterity required to avoid tasting tarmac at every turn rules it out as a viable control method. It’s rubbish in other words. Oh, just a quick note on the drink driving missions. We all know that in real life it’s neither big nor clever. But in GTA, it’s a screen-blurring, headache-inducing riot.
Mission statement
The main missions that still make up the meat of the game may not be a radical departure from what’s gone before – most can be broken down to drive from A to B and murder C – but, because all of the game’s mechanics have been blisteringly polished, it breathes new life into the old formula. Thankfully, Rockstar have removed much of the pain associated with failing missions, with text messages allowing you to try them again immediately, saving you from a slog through seas of traffic to get back to contacts. Also, because the shooting is now at the same level as the driving, missions have an added coherency and fluidity over past GTA’s, as now everything works equally well. You no longer curse having to get out of the car and the game’s standout missions combine the arcade thrills of Burnout Paradise, with the visceral fist-punching pleasures of Uncharted, for an experience that’s totally peerless.
There are way too many highlights to mention fully, but let’s have a crack anyway. Three Leaf Clover, the best take on Michael’s Mann’s bank heist from Heat we’ve ever seen, a hit where you ring a target to get them in front of their window, and into your sniper sight (Agent 47-style), and weaving through Algonquin’s towering architecture in a daring helicopter chase are all real ‘hug your PS3 while no one’s looking’ stuff. When even the simplest collection trips are a joy, though, – just taking in the sights and sounds of the city is a constant thrill – almost every mission is worth savoring. Chaos and shell casings may meet you at every criminal step – this being GTA everything always goes wrong – but you’ll still love every botched, betrayal-addled, bullet-ridden second of it.
The immediate impact when you fire up GTA IV and see the transition from San Andreas is significant, though, not as seismic a shift as the move from two to three dimensions witnessed in GTA 3. This is evolution, not revolution. And anyone expecting a radically different experience from what’s gone before may be a little disappointed. Well, as disappointed as is possible for a game that will constantly thrill, challenge and entertain you like no other over a good 40-50 hours.
Looking at the title as a complete package, it’s so far ahead of anything else it’s scary. There will be moments where the world will literally melt away around you while playing; such is the grip and conviction of Liberty’s seamless atmosphere, everything else just disappears. And whether you’re looking for a supremely balanced arcade driving title, an expertly designed freeform shooter or just a game where it’s gloriously fun to dick around, GTA IV has you covered like nothing before it. Now, if you’ll excuse us. That’s the lesbians going at it again.
Overall
The most important game in a decade and the shining beacon of this console generation. The next-gen starts here.
97
Dave Meikleham
Just a quick note. This review is in place of the much vaunted Orange Box piece I was touting. Given the timing, I felt posting a GTA rev was more relevant. And, with a busy few weeks of uni work and exams, it’s unlikely the Freeman will see light anytime soon. Still, it’s an amazing game and you should deffo buy it with utter confidence.
If Hollywood has taught us anything about the assassin it’s that he rarely does things by the book. Look at Leon; an illiterate, milk drinking, pot plant-loving killing machine. Or Martin Blank; a slightly awkward, charming ice cold murderer, who just happens to enjoy attending high school reunions. It’s no surprise then to see Agent 47, everyone’s favorite slaphead strangler, doing some very strange things. But really, dropping pianos on people while dressed like a Big Bird reject? Now that really is too much.
Blood Money, the fourth game in the acclaimed stealth series, is undoubtedly the most creative, down right unpleasant Hitman game yet. While previous titles have always allowed you to take out your targets in brutally inventive ways, nothing comes close to this. Blood Money is without question the sickest, most deprived game on PS2. And for that it’s brilliant.
The game places you in the shoes of agent 47, a ruthless cloned assassin, who gets paid to take jobs all over the world. This time he’ll do most of his whacking in the United States, although you do get to travel to a few other exotic locations. If you’ve never played a Hitman game before, think of it as a cross between Metal Gear Solid’s stealth action, GTA’s sick sense of humor, topped off with a doze of Daily Mail-baiting violence. Each of the thirteen missions sees you tasked with taking out various targets, and how you choose to do this is remarkably open-ended. The game often gives you a variety of unpleasant ways to bunk off your hit, making the game seem less linear than it actually is. After all, the end result is always the same. And 47 is never going to shake hands and let bygones be bygones.
On the most basic level it used to be possible to play Hitman like a standard third person shooter. If stealth wasn’t your cup of poisoned tea you were free to go on a disgruntled postal worker-inspired killing spree. Now though, things have changed. Blood Money is much less forgiving with mistakes than previous installments and breaking your cover on the harder difficulty levels will usually spell good night nurse. In a brave choice by Io Interactive, stealth is really the only way to go if you want to achieve that perfect hit. And the variety of killing methods you can use is nothing short of inspired.
Accidents will happen
New to the series is the ability to mask your murders under the banner of “accidents”. Accidents can be performed by following the many number of set pieces in the game. And, if done properly, can completely absolve you from the scene of the crime. That chandelier that fell killing the tenor and his body guards? Well, it was clearly an accident. Let’s face it, these old opera houses are always crumbling to pieces. Freak barbecue accident horribly chars woman to a crisp? C’mon, we’ve all seen the Simpsons episode where Homer puts a little too much lighter fluid on the grill. Man falls into a swamp and is eaten by gators? Hey, that’s just a day to day risk of living in Louisiana.
Accidents are especially helpful when going for that ever elusive silent assassin rating, which requires you to remain completely hidden and kill only your intended targets. This rating, as always, is the main reason to keep coming back to the game. And if there’s anything more satisfying than casually strolling away from the scene of a brutal contract killing dressed as Coco the clown, then we’d like to hear about it.
Paramount to playing the game properly is a reliance on trial and error. Now while in most games this is usually cause for frustration, Hitman is the exception to the rule. Each failed mission should be thought of a reconnaissance. Every botched shooting, mistimed snipe, or cruddy costume choice simply gets you closer to that perfect execution. Until eventually all of your pervious knowledge and mistakes click together to finally get that silent assassin rating. Chasing the rating for each mission is an exhilarating thrill and one that more methodical gamers will really relish.
Silence is golden
While in previous games achieving this crowning glory often felt like it was more down to luck than careful planning, Blood Money is much more assured. The game feels far less hit and miss than Contracts and Silent Assassin before it, and you’ll rarely feel cheated. Before, half an hour’s play would be ruined by an unforeseen alarm or the game’s AI acting erratically. This time, proceedings are much fairer, with the inclusion of 24 style split screens, showing discovered bodies and intended targets, meaning you’ll always know why things went wrong. Because the rules are now more clearly defined it really encourages you to keep playing. It was easy to get discouraged in previous games, as you got rumbled for the tenth time without knowing where you’d gone wrong. For the first time, though, Hitman, unlike 47, plays fair and sticks to the rules. And the game’s all the better for it.
Another new feature to the series is the Notoriety System. Basically, every time you’re seen acting suspiciously, caught on camera or found ‘garnishing’ food with 47’s special sauce, you get notoriety points. The less subtle you are the more your notoriety goes up, which will affect how people react to you in the next mission. If you carelessly cause a 20 man massacre or get caught shooting the vice president in the face then a newspaper report will publish an artist’s rendition of you. The more people see you, the better the impression. To the point where guards will recognize your murderous mug and may even shoot on sight. To counter this you’re able to bribe officials and payoff witnesses to get your rating down. And this is where the cash you’re rewarded for each hit really comes in useful.
After each successful job you’re rewarded a sum of money, depending on how many people saw you, how many you killed and how quickly you took them out. The more stealthy you are the more money you get, which can then be used to lower you notoriety rating. The money you earn can also be used to upgrade your weapons, such as silencers for your silverballers or undetectable briefcases to carry a sniper rifle in. Unfortunately, you rarely need to carry more than one weapon, as the variety of poisons and fiber wire you’re provided by default are usually enough to get the job done. The notoriety system also feels a bit redundant, because if you’re playing the game the way it should be played you’ll rarely be seen. And, as 47 also earns so much money, it’s never difficult to lower your rating. We’re no maths experts, but we’re fairly sure $100, 000 bribe goes into a two million buck hit several times over.
A view to die for
The levels themselves are all pleasingly distinctive. Whether it be a grimy, desolate theme park or the vibrant streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Each one has been crafted with a lovingly detailed eye, and, coupled with fantastic particle effects, really add to the atmosphere. And, while not as expansive as the open ended environments of Hitman 2, they benefit by being much more characterized and focused. Compared to Contracts’ poor showing of rehashed levels, Blood Money truly feels like it’s pushing the PS2 to its limits.
Io have also scrapped the Glacier engine that served them so well in the past. The newly rebuild engine looks even better, though, and when you’re trying to push your way through a crowd of hundreds in New Orleans you’ll struggle to believe that this is running on the same system that brought you Army Men. Lighting, character models and animation all look superb, really sucking you into the seedy world of a professional assassin – particularly cool is the new animation that sees 47 conceal a gun behind his back to avoid unwanted attention. Wonky collision detection and slow-down occasionally rear their ugly heads, but this is more than forgivable considering the spectacle that Blood Money offers.
Helping with this is a newly implemented 3D camera system, which gives you complete control over 47’s view and his surroundings. Long time fan of the series will also be pleased to hear that he long longer walks around like he’s skating on ice. This time his movements are foreboding and ominous, looking less like the Swan Princess and more like the Prince of Darkness.
The perfect accompaniment to the new graphics engine is another rousing and suitably moody score from long time Hitman collaborator Jesper Kyd, which blends subtle chilling cues with heart pumping beats, as the action intensifies. The range of voice acting, especially the gravelly delivery of 47, is also performed well. And the combination of graphics, music and acting really add up to a deeply atmospheric package.
Hit & miss man
It’s important to clear up, though, that Hitman remains an acquired taste. Gamers just looking to go in and blast everyone on sight will miss the majority of its appeal, and the slow and methodical nature will no doubt put others off. It takes a certain type of person to replay the same section of a level over and over again to make sure they’re ready to push a KFC-loving colonel to an early grave. The trial and error nature of the game, which is central to your success, may also frustrate gamers used to fast flowing action games.
Ultimately, Blood Money’s not a huge leap on from what’s gone before. But it remains a considered, cautious and ultimately rewarding experience. And, at its best, Hitman reaches levels of immersion and dark guilty pleasures that few other titles have the imagination to match. Blood Money may not be the perfect hit, but Io are getting there. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ve got to slip into a Santa suit, poison a small dog with a sausage, then snap a porn barren’s neck. After all, when does 47 ever do anything by the book?
Just a quick note to prelude this review. I actually first wrote this almost four years ago, at the tender age of 18. For some reason I thought it might be interesting to examine my writing from back then, and so decided to post it here. Obviously, I’ve redrafted a fair bit of it, but I’ve kept most of the basic ideas and structure in place. It’s a bit flabby and self-serving in places, but that’s kids these days for you, eh? Anyhoo, thought it might have renewed relevance considering Guns of the Patriots is just around the corner. Enjoy.
Hideo Kojima really is an odd bloke. Whether it’s introducing a Back Street Boy wannabe into his acclaimed stealth series, going back in time or dining on roasted flying squirrel, he’s never been afraid to shake Metal Gear up. With the latest entry in the series, Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater, no exception. But thankfully, through a combination of technical wizardry, refined mechanics, and just sheer utterly daft brilliance, Kojima and his team have managed to reinvigorate the franchise and create one of the most memorable games on PS2. Rejoice stealth fans, Snake Eater is as satisfying as a freshly reticulated python… without the pesky trip to the emergency room afterwards.
Now lets start of with a warning. There’s a good chance you’re going to hate your first few hours with the new Gear. After many lengthy cut scenes and codec conversations, you eventually get into the action, which at first feels slow, truncated and overly fiddly. With the loss of the soliton radar, due to the game’s 60s setting, entering each new area becomes a painfully slow process. You move a few paces, try to scope out your surroundings, and then dart back into the undergrowth. Not exactly the kind of behaviour you expect from a hardened, grizzled, nuclear bipedal tank fighting warrior, is it? What’s more, you have to constantly dip into menu screens and sub-menus. Clumsily trying to heal, eat and change yourself – though not quite in the disturbing ‘man nappy’ way that phrase might suggest. First impressions of Snake Eater then, may not seem promising. Persist though, and the beauty of the game slowly begins to shine through. You’ll begin to adapt to your new environments, learn to scout ahead for enemies, use camouflage effectively and even get to grips with hunting and healing. Soon you’ll be feasting on a nice bit of vulture or Kenyan crab that would make even Jamie Oliver jealous. And as you do you’ll grow to empathise with the mulleted one as you lead him through an epic 16 hour journey of stealthly shenanigans, inappropriate female spy attire and more maniacal laughter than an afternoon in Chelsea’s boardroom.
For those new to the series, you’re placed in the shoes of a lone government operative named Snake, who must infiltrate enemy strongholds while avoiding detection. Snake Eater takes you back to the 1960s, during the Cold War, and sees you taking charge of the soon to be Big Boss (Solid Snake’s old man). You, as Snake, must then make your way through treacherous Russian jungles, swamps and mountain ranges in search of a mysterious scientist and a new Metal Gear, called the Shagohod. Where Metal Gear 3 succeeds in storytelling over its predecessor is that it keeps things simple… well simpler. Unlike Sons of Liberty you won’t have to put up with the constant blathering of your girlfriend reminding you about your anniversary or listen to a robot prattle on for 20 minutes about the importance of passing on knowledge. There’s still the normal backstabbing, triple crossing, soap opera style goings on that have now become a trademark of the series. This time though, the characters are much more approachable, the plot more straightforward and story ultimately, more satisfying.
Welcome to the jungle
One of the most striking changes over the previous two games is the change in environments. Not only are Snake Eater’s much bigger, but there are also many more places to hide. Be it in tall grass, inside a log or even up a tree. Of course, due to the lack of radar you really do need to take advantage of these extra hiding places. You can no longer lazily wander around just outside an enemy’s line of sight. Instead, you have to be constantly aware of your surroundings and must seek cover at all times. These more diverse locations, coupled with the game’s new camo system, really lead to a much more free form, open-ended gaming experience.One in which you really are free to try it your own way in your quest to get through the jungle. Ultimately, this is a lot more rewarding than the previous game’s narrow, linear corridors and actually makes previous Metal Gears look quite basic in comparison. In light of how linear most stealth games are now a days, Snake Eater’s more open and free form nature takes the genre in a refreshing new direction. But if you’re usually used to just sitting in the shadows waiting for dim-witted guards to pass you by, be warned. Snake Eater is really going to make you work.
The areas in the game themselves are a big departure from the normal grey military bases that have become a staple of the series. Snake not only has to overcome the new jungle environment, but must also traverse mangrove swamps, snow covered mountain tops, pitch black underground bunkers and …… erm, grey military bases, although even these have an epic feel to them. What all the locations in the game share is an unbelievable eye for detail. Kojima and his team really have managed to squeeze in a huge amount of tiny visual touches. While they might not be quite as interactive as previous games, they make up for it by being incredibly absorbing. And this all adds to an intoxicating atmosphere of gripping loneliness, which stems from living, hunting and surviving in the game’s, occasionally, oppressive environments.
The new healing system, while a departure from previous games, is not quite as significant as the change in locale. Handled through a simple menu screen, you can assess and heal Snake’s wounds, which are represented through an x-ray of Snake’s body. Get shot and the bullet will appear dug in your torso. Break your leg and you’ll be able to see the bone fracture. And you can even see leeches stuck on your body, feasting away like Dracula at a black pudding buffet. Healing yourself is a simple case of flicking through a list of handily placed medical supplies and choosing the right equipment for the injury. That pesky bullet? No problem. A little flick with your trusty knife, dash of antiseptic and a nice bandage will take care of that. A broken leg can easily be set with a splint. While those pesky little bloodsuckers can be burned off with one of Snake’s fine Cuban stogies.
Fail to cure these little ailments, though, and Snake’s stamina will drop. When this happens you begin to get the shakes, making it harder to aim in first person. You can’t enter Snake’s new sneaking stance for as long. And if you leave his injuries unattended for long enough you’ll never fully heal. To be honest, healing yourself is a bit fiddly at first. And when you’re trying to stop yourself being barbecued by a sadistic flying astronaut mid-battle – don’t ask – it can be an unnecessary distraction. Having said that, it does provide a welcome layer of depth over the primitive ration system of previous games.
Easy as CQC
One of Snake Eater’s other new features is Close Quarters Combat, or CQC for short. While it’s not quite the Jack Bauer, kick-ass fighting style we were led to believe, it more than does the job. At any rate, it’s certainly leaps and bounds ahead of the limited array of punches and kicks Snake had in the past. And, once mastered, it allows you to quickly disarm a guard, use him as a human shield and tranq his buddies in one smooth motion. Handy. Granted, it does take a bit of experimenting and patience to nail – it’s tricky judging how far from an enemy you should be before trying it – but once you do it proves to be an effective way of tackling guards. It’s obviously better to try and avoid skirmishes, this is after all a stealth game, but for times when you do get sprung it’s quite a handy system.
As we mentioned earlier, Snake can no longer survive on rations. And now has to hunt the wildlife of his new jungle environments for sustenance. The new hunting/eating system ties directly into Snake’s stamina meter. Fail to eat and Snake’s aim will start to go wobbly. He won’t be able to hang on to ledges for as long and he’ll take longer to heal. It’s like your mother used to tell you, “you can’t infiltrate a heavily armed terrorist compound and stop a nuclear holocaust on an empty stomach”. Again, like CQC, this new system isn’t quite as deep as we were led to believe. Hunting basically boils down to spotting something crawling along the ground or perching in a tree and then shooting the poor bastard. When you’ve either killed or put your food to sleep it’ll then transform into the form of a handy ration to slip into your back pocket. While hardly realistic or taxing it is a welcome diversion from the main action. Going on a little safari murdering every bush baby, Kaman and endangered buzzard that crosses your sight can be quite distracting. It’s just like being Steve Irwin, with slightly homicidal tendencies ….. come to think of it, it’s exactly like being Steve Irwin. (Note – yeah, time has made this joke horribly inappropriate, so don’t laugh. Cause if you do…)
Camo down dear
The biggest new innovation in Snake Eater, though, is undoubtedly the camouflage system. Unlike some of the game’s other new features, mastering Snake’s camouflage is essential if you want to go undetected. The right camo can be the difference between blending in like the Predator or sticking out like a Scotland at a World Cup(sadly this reference still rings true). Your visibility is measured through a percentage, and is displayed in a little meter at the top of the screen. The higher the percentage the more hidden you are. Experimenting with the different assortment of camouflage kits is extremely addictive and rewarding – it’s horribly addictive trying to bum up your meter looking for that elusive extra five percent. There’s a suit for every occasion too, with forest leaf and tiger stripe being used for the forest and jungle environments. Splitter for use in indoor areas. And even sand and snow for the mountains. All told Snake has something to wear for every occasion, with an entourage that would shame even Sir Elt.
Thankfully, it’s a simple system for newcomers to pick up too, with the camo meter always keeping you clear on just how hidden you are. The system isn’t infallible however, and if you run around like a headless chicken guards are going to spot you no matter what you’re wearing. Overall though, it’s just another feather in Snake Eater’s skin tight lycra, adding yet another layer of depth to the series while giving you some scope for freedom and creativity.
You’re not the boss of me
But, regardless of the new features, the undeniable highlight of the game, just as with past installments, are the boss battles. Not since the original Devil May Cry has the PS2 been home to such epic, visceral scuffles. Highlights include a cagey gunfight with Revolver Ocelot over a ravine, a deadly game of cat and mouse with The Fear – reminiscent of Arnie vs. a certain Rastafarian alien – to the final haunting encounter with the Boss. What all these encounters have in common are the multiple ways to beat each baddie. And you’re rarely forced to just repeat the same tactics, as there’s plenty of scope for improvisation.
The perfect example of this is the fight with the grumpy old sniper The End – imagine a cross between Uncle Albert and Captain Birdseye. An epic fight staged across three huge forests, the battle can last over an hour if you fight properly or spoiler starts > you can shoot him while he’s asleep an hour earlier or simply set the clock on your PS2 ahead a week < spoiler ends. Play as Hideo intended, though, and it’s an unbelievably tense encounter. Hearing the old codger’s raspy breath echo out over the forest, as you enter a battle of wills, endurance and nerve, is honestly one of the most immersive and disquieting things you’ll ever experience in a game. Short of actually being stalked through a jungle be a creepy old man yourself, natch. Anyway, the fight is a real testament to Kojima’s power as a pioneering visionary. One that spits in the face of convention by rewarding patience over quick reflexes and an itchy trigger finger. And for that it’s astonishing.
So there you have it then. The greatest stealth game ever made and easily a contender for the game of its console generation. In an industry where most games point you in the right direction with a 50 foot red arrow, and where every second title involves “pimping” something out, it’s refreshing to know there’s still a place in the market for barmy old Kojima. And uplifting knowing that he and his team can still put out a game of this scope, imagination and polish. A game that challenges and thrills you in equal measure, and one which constantly encourages you to find new ways to beat it.
The differences between Snake and Sam Fisher could not be more apparent after their latest outings. While one game ends with you carrying out an office worker on your back in one of the most anti-climatic endings ever. The other dazzles and amazes you as you’re taken on a three-hour crescendo of fighting 50 foot walking tanks, bike chases and spectacular explosions.When all’s said and done it’s not a perfect game, but it comes as close to that target as any other title in recent memory. Yes its long-winded, preachy and flabby. But its also exciting, clever and deeply rewarding. To put it simply, it’s extraordinary. And for that we’ll gladly welcome as much oddness as Kojima-san can muster.
I’ve somehow managed to free myself from the insipid claws of GTA IV long enough to post a quick blog. So tired. Eyes bleeding. Too many car jackings, head shots and Michael Mann-inspired bank heists. Oh well, it’s only horrible sleep depravation and severely hampered eyesight.
Today I thought I’d speculate on where the next GTA might be heading. After listening to a recent IGN podcast where the writers were guessing that the next installment in Rockstar’s epic series might be revisiting the pristine waters and gaudy lights of Vice City, I felt compelled to write something.
Now, don’t get me wrong, Vice City – a Miami influenced 80s metropolis – represents perhaps the most memorable city Rockstar North have ever programmed. The character and ambience of that place bled from every pixel. From the pitch perfect soundtrack, which included seminal 80s tracks like Billie Jean and Video Killed the Radio Star, the Tony Montana mansion stolen fro… erm, inspired by Brian De Palma’s crime classic Scarface or sun kissed streets torn straight from the celluloid of Miami Vice.
However, the city was such a product of a specific time period, and the spirit of that period was so comprehensively captured, that revisiting it would not only be artistically redundant, but also extremely hard to top. Revisiting Liberty City on the PS3 was entirely different. It allowed the developers to reexamine their first 3D city and completely revolutionize it. It was an opportunity to demonstrate just how far they’d come as artists and technicians in only seven years. And although IV’s New York-esque rotten apple feels contemporary with references to immigrants, terror threats and a tirade of culturally relevant satire, it’s not tied to the constraints of period or film stereotypes in the same way that Vice City and San Andreas were. Also, let’s not forget that Rockstar’s artistic vision for their latest title is inspired by the most iconic city in the world. A city that is always rife for new artistic interpretation.
So where should the next GTA vacate to then? Personally, I think Rockstar have done all they can with the American dream. They’ve twisted it, corrupted it and in the process satired almost every conceivable realm of popular culture the good ol’ US of A has churned out over the past twenty years. From Boys N’ the Hood struggles in the hoods of Los Santos, an Ocean’s Eleven-inspired bank job on the sleazy strip of Las Venturas, to Niko Bellic’s criminal capers, which completely capture the atmosphere of David Cronenberg’s Eastern Promises.
The prospect of a GTA take on London or Paris are what really intrigue me. In London you have a city that is easily rich enough in cultural diversity, iconic landmarks and film references to support Rockstar’s hunger for satire and a culturally skewed comedy cast. While Paris would give them the opportunity to dissect a completely different society and the perfect chance for a radical departure from GTA’s typical American architecture and layout.
So Rockstar, you’ve just created what is arguably the greatest game of all time. What’s next? Well, if the answer’s bombing around Trafalgar square with the Sex Pistols blaring over your stereo, or admiring the Arch de Triumph through a sniper rifle from a suspiciously named Leffie Tower, then I fully expect several suitcases of royalties.
Moving on from my obscure Futurama reference, let’s get down to the business of business. After reading Gamespot’s review of GTA IV, which you can peruse at your leisure here, I felt compelled to write a blog spurned on by passion… erm, about passion. I’m sure there’s some grandeur post-modern statement in there somewhere.
Anyhoo, after reading the site’s review I felt positively down, not with what I and many others believe to be the best game in a decade, but with the overall lack of enthusiasm or passion the reviewer seemed to have put into the piece. Now the last thing I want to do is delve into a personal tirade against the quality of writing on Gamespot. Personally, I think it’s a well run, well designed and, generally, reliable source of information for videogame news and scores. Nevertheless, every time I read a review on their site I can’t help but feel they’ve lost a bit of their passion for this medium.
IGN represent the other end of the spectrum. Commendably enthused, if a little overly excitable with their scores. But at least you can see that their passion is present, channeled or not. Although both sites awarded Rockstar’s murderous masterpiece the same score, a perfect ten (a feat not achieved on IGN since Soul Calibur in 1999), the reviews themselves differ greatly. Where IGN gave seven pages, Gamespot afforded only two. Regardless of your opinion of the game or its subject matter, its hard to argue that its release represents the high watermark for the medium in terms of anticipation, mainstream media recognition and technological artistry. Reading the words of IGN you can see they have paid homage to this and treat the title with the considered excitement, enthusiasm and number of pages a game of this historical magnitude deserves.
Passion and, indeed, enthusiasm are infectious – just like mumps a mate considerately gave me recently – and words that are fused with them, particularly in reviews, really give you a buzz and make you appreciate or want a great game that much more. Reading through Gamespot’s piece, the much improved mechanics of Niko Bellic’s adventure of Liberty City lawlessness are, if not quite treated with disdain, not given the merit they deserve. Granted, games, like any art form, are entirely subjective beasts. But when the improved wanted system and vastly superior shooting system are treated like throwaway subjects – the reviewer merely alludes that they make the game easier, without really touching on why they make things so much better – it grates. I just feel Gamespot have let themselves down with this piece. Sure, they might have awarded GTA a ten, but it just doesn’t read like a ten. And their score is out of kilter with the passion in their words
So where am I going with this horribly overlong rant? Simply here. The most important piece of advice I could ever give to anyone, whether they’re processing pension applications, serving a heart attack-enducing quadruple cheeseburger or writing a review, is to be passionate. Show that you care and you’ll not only involve your reader that much more, but your words will also be lent the kind of authority that only comes when a person has really put all of themselves into something.
A good review flows, stimulates and, more than anything, reminds you why you have a passion for that medium in the first place. And, if I’ve sounded too much like a undercover IGN journo until now, let me point out that Tim Clark’s review of the game in OPM kicks the kindling out of both sites’ pieces. It’s powerful, emotive and, above all else, passionate. Whether you’re stoving in Sven’s Football Challenge or gushing over Gran Turismo, your reviews should always convey these qualities. It’s what I believe separates printed games mags from t’net. And they’re something I’ve seen from every member of PSM3 while lucky enough to work there.
Phew, rant over. Thank Jebus for that.
Later y’all.
Oh, and before any wags comment, yes, today’s magic word, brought to you by the letter t and the number six, is… passion. Yay! What do you mean I overused it? Sesame Street lawsuit, you say?
Why the brain is mightier than the bullet in Psi-Ops
Slowly you sneak up behind the unsuspecting meat puppet – Psi-Ops’ lingo for its brainwashed soldiers. Gun cocked, brow furrowed and aim steady, you prepare to deliver the killer blow. But this is no ordinary shooter. Instead of pulling the trigger Nick Scryer, the game’s protagonist, who is best described as John McClane meets Uri Geller, focuses his mind and proceeds to lift his enemy into the air with nothing but the power of his thoughts. As Nick continues to Mind Drain his quarry the pressure gradually builds up in the soldier’s cranium. Splat! The puppet’s head gushes open like a ripe, juicy watermelon, painting the walls with blood. A shooter where you could ‘literally’ use your brains instead of bullets? Now that is refreshing.
Psi-Ops: The Mindgate Conspiracy really struck a chord with us when it was first released. Taking the robust stealth mechanics of Metal Gear and coupling it with the best use of psychic powers since the PC Jedi Knight games, it combined a genuinely innovative concept with PS2’s most impressive physics and mixed it all into a moody, gripping action title. It really should have stood out in a market cluttered with ‘me too’ shooters. That an equally innovative, moody game with almost exactly the same concept was released within the next fortnight was just bad timing for Midway’s title. That game was Free Radical Design’s Second Sight, and, after a stream of critical acclaim, it’s the psychic game that most gamers tend to remember today.
After a dull opening set in a military base with a monosyllabic colour pallet and an over reliance on the game’s clunky shooting mechanics, you’d be forgiven for forgetting Psi-Ops too. Persist, though, and you’ll find a game which blossoms as you regain your mind mojo. While Second Sight had a more emotive main character, an infinitely superior plot and more imaginative level design, it’s Midway’s game that really nailed the most important part. PSI powers. Whether it’s tossing your enemies into explosives canisters with Telekinesis, using Remote Viewing for a genuine out of body experience to scope out the room ahead or using Mind Control to get enemies to carry out your bidding. Of all Nick abilities, Telekinesis is the best, and makes Second Sight’s take on the paranormal power feel lightweight.
Mind your step
It’s all about the physics, you see. Unlike Free Radical’s title, where brushing against a chair would send it flying across the room like it had been hit by a freight train, Psi-Ops’ world is governed by the Havok physics engine, which lends everything a proper sense of motion and weight. Just try throwing a boulder compared to levitating a man and you can really feel the difference. It also helps that levels have been built to cater to your abilities. You’ll never stray far from objects in the environment that can be used in conjunction with your powers to some deadly effect. From throwing baddies into electrified floors to melt faces off, floating them into open furnaces for an impromptu barbecue or controlling your enemies to walk into conveyor belts to create a mushy man mince. Every stage truly is a playground of death, creating a bond between player and environment that goes beyond anything in Second Sight.
Psi of the beholder
While it’s all well and good having beautifully rendered stages, it’s the level of interaction that a game environment provides which really creates immersion. Because Psi-Ops world is so interactive – thanks to your abilities – it makes you feel a connection with your surroundings to the point where the environment itself becomes an extension of your character. This is what the game has passed on to PS3 titles such as Stranglehold, which show interactive levels can be just as deadly and engaging as using any Uzi, rocket launcher or grenade. And that’s what keeps Psi-Ops valid in a market now dominated by pixel perfect, but sometimes sterile, PS3 worlds. Of course, the fact that the game makes you feel like the most indestructible killing-machine, this side of the Terminator, helps too. So Second Sight may be the more considered, nuanced title. A thoughtful art-house piece about a tortured amnesiac to Psi-Ops’ low rent gore-fest, with a lead character with all the sensitivity of Freddie Krueger. But in a world where popping skulls is this much fun, who needs nuance?
In a game dominated by 100 foot monsters, it’s amazing how much the silent moments thrill in SOTC. While the game boasts the most impressive boss battles on PS2, nothing takes your breath away like passing through a massive, empty valley the size of the Grand Canyon, looking up in awe as a seemingly never-ending bridge casts long, lonely shadows over a barren desert, or the simple beauty of seeing your horse’s mane flow in the wind. But then again, Colossus – the spiritual sequel to 2001’s charming ICO, is all about going against the grain. From its subtle, sparse narrative, undiluted atmosphere – it’s effectively just a series of boss fights, or the guilt it makes you feel after you kill. And it’s this palatable sense of remorse which hits you – as you brain docile creatures, often as cute and cuddly as a titanic Tickle Me Elmo – that makes a single moment of reflection in Colossus more memorable than any headshot, Ollie or free kick.
The game begins with a nameless man riding on horseback through a desolate land, the dead body of a girl lying silently in his lap. It’s a simple tale. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Boy stabs skyscraper-sized monsters to death to resurrect girl. These titans are called Colossi. And you must seek out and destroy all sixteen of them to bring your love back to the union. The premise of the game is simple. Find big beastie. Kill big beastie. Each creature is like a giant platform section, and you use the acres of grass-like fur that clings to their bodies to clamber about. Once you find a way to climb on, which is often a puzzle in itself, you then have to find several weak points on each beast and proceed to stab the stuffing out of them. You’ve only got a limited grip, though, and when that runs out you’ll face some tense moments, as you try to avoid huge falls that will often kill you.
Big boss
The game constantly turns your expectations on their head too. And the variety of the creatures and the tactics needed to beat each one means Shadow rarely becomes tedious. Some fights require careful timing and patience, while others need quick reflexes and leaps of faith. One encounter will pit you against a lumbering goliath with a club the size of Devon, the next, a tussle with a speedy and erratic bull, barely bigger than your horse. What links most of these encounters, though, is how passive each beast is. Few will attack without provocation, which really makes you question your aggressive actions. And after each titan falls all you’re left with is regret.
Journeyman
Considering you spend most of the game traveling to each Colossi, it’s a relief that every journey is as unique as the battle that follows it. Holding your sword skywards creates a beam of light that points you in the general direction you need to go on your horse. It’s fairly vague, mind, and often traversing the vast landscape to find each boss hangs on your own intuition and sense of direction. It makes you feel both free and vulnerable. And the joy of moving through Shadow’s world perfectly recreates the thrill of exploration and gripping loneliness found in Nintendo’s Zelda and Metroid games. Whether it’s passing the ruins of an ancient, decimated city, galloping across a massive, mist-ridden swamp or walking through an eerily quiet, sun-kissed forest, you’ll remember every step.
Colossus is far from perfect. The platforming feels imprecise. The frame-rate often frustrates. And the repetitive nature of hunt, kill, repeat, won’t appeal to everyone. What this game does offer, though, is character, and more than anything, soul. The games industry has reached a point where graphs, checklists and committees approve PS3 titles to minimize risk, most titles test your trigger finger instead of trouble your conscience and genuinely different ideas are rare like British footie at a Euro Championship. It all makes Shadow’s bold concept and hauntingly reflective atmosphere stand out like visionary art in a world of sales figures. And in an industry where the loudest, most market-tested and vulgar games dominate, Shadow’s silence is golden.
dmeik85