Games: Telltale Games - Sam and Max Episode 1: Culture Shock

Telltale Games
Sam And Max: Episode 1 - Culture Shock
[Adventure]


Could any game possibly measure up to the anticipation created by 13 years of false hopes and cancellations? Released in 1993, "Sam and Max Hit the Road" was one of the most idiosyncratic and entertaining games ever made. The point-and-click adventure, based on the comic strip of the same name, featured an anthropomorphic duo of a canine shamus and a psychopathic bunny, touring corny tourist spots across the US in a seemingly indestructible DeSoto. The combination of the pair's unique brand of wordplay and senseless violence with a satirical broadside targeting pop cultural vacuity proved popular, and the game has remained a cherished fan favourite ever since, eclipsing the popularity of the comic or the short lived TV show.

The road to a follow up, however, has been long and arduous. The developers, LucasArts, announced a sequel in 2002, which soon got canned as the company decided to stop making critically acclaimed adventure games and start pumping out cheap Star Wars releases like a bilge pump (The only decent Star Wars titles since "The Phantom Menace" came out having been 3rd party.) A totally seperate FPS take on the characters was then in development, then abandoned, and then a German publisher tried to buy the canned sequel from LucasArts, and failed dismally.

Fortunately, LucasArts' rights to the characters soon expired and reverted back to the comic's creator, Steve Purcell, who then promptly licensed the characters to Telltale Games, a splinter group of disgruntled ex-LucasArts staff and others, who have now, thirteen years later, proceeded to create a fitting comeback for the series.

Culture Shock feels both retro and revolutionary. From the pitch perfect (and now 3D) artwork to the excellent jazz score, Sam and Max Episode 1 fills the veteran with a warm 1993 glow. And yet, this isn't just some hazy trip down memory lane, content to rest on the laurels of former years. The most radically progressive move is the episodic nature. This episode is only part one of an ongoing TV-style series of six; one to be released each month. Hence, it's only as long as a movie; you'll get about three hours of play time out of the game, but it does have replay value built into the various humorous options the player can take. The series is going to follow a larger story incorporating the individual cases. You can pick up all the episodes on Telltale's website for about £20, given the US exchange rate, which works out at about £3.50 an episode; very reasonable given how much fun you'll have.

The plot of this episode stays almost entirely within the confines of Sam and Max's immediate neighbourhood, although future episodes are set to expand the locations. A group of washed up 70s childstars called the "Soda Poppers" are terrorizing the neighbourhood with random acts of vandalism and shopdropping. Of course, it's up to the duo to find out what's going on; I won't spoil the story, but suffice to say, it's delightfully weird. The puzzles, whilst a touch easy, are a real joy to solve; they're warped, but never in the illogical how-was-anyone-ever-supposed-to-figure-that-out way many an adventure game falls for. The voice acting will initially jar; they just aren't the same guys that did Sam and Max from 1993, but pretty soon it becomes unnoticeable.

But whilst all the elements can be broken analysed seperately, what makes Sam and Max: Episode One the best damn pure adventure game since Grim Fandango is unplaceable. Is it the snappy dialogue? The perfectly structured plot arc? The art? Well, yes, all these things, but it's more than that. Not only does it get everything right, it also does it and gives the impression of ease. Like a great stand-up comic, it's always sharp, always on, but never fells forced or like it's trying too hard. Maybe the size is a blessing - it just feels like three hours of unadulterated fun, playful and witty, that leaves you wanting more. They say when a great sitcom begins, the first episode often feels a little weird, with all the ground rules and characters it has to establish. Hopefully when more of this, arguably gaming's first sitcom, follows, it'll be even better - because it's already off to a flying start.

95

Games: Revolution/Sumo Digital - Broken Sword: The Angel of Death

Revolution / Sumo Digital
Broken Sword: The Angel of Death
[Adventure]








For reasons known only to the worldwide gaming press, the Broken Sword series has never quite garnered the praise it deserves. The first game in the series, 1996's The Shadow of the Templars, set new standards in cinematic adventuring, and follow-up The Smoking Mirror, though rushed out in little over a year, was a similarly excellent game. The move to 3D in 2003's The Sleeping Dragon was practically seamless, featuring gorgeously realised environments, a typically diverse collection of characters and a strong storyline.

However, there was something quite unusual about BS3 in that, despite an already strong fan base, modernised controls and simplified puzzles, the game sold poorly, shifting barely any units on consoles. This has led to something of a knee-jerk reaction from Revolution, who have not only decided to return to the traditional point 'n' click interface of old, but have also taken the decision (or been told) to make BS4 a PC exclusive. This decision has backfired severely, resulting in a game that feels tired and dated, though one which admittedly retains just enough retro charm and tricks of the trade to avoid being a total disappointment.

The starting point in assessing any adventure game is obviously the strength of its story and, surprisingly, the plot in The Angel of Death is much weaker than one might expect. Discredited after the "Glastonbury incident" in BS3, chiselled chump George Stobbart is now working as a bail bond clerk in New York. One day, a mysterious and suspiciously buxom blonde goes to see George about - you guessed it - an ancient manuscript which she is hoping to decipher. An offer of $10000 is enough to convince George that he should come along for the ride, but before he can dust off his adventuring cap, the office is invaded by an unpleasant-looking crew of Italian mobsters. They appear to be pursuing Anna Maria and her manuscript and thus, without hanging around to peruse the finer details of the thugs' intentions, George and his sidekick escape the office and seemingly head off on yet another journey brimming with elements of history, mythology and intrigue.

While this might sound exciting, the beginning of the game develops slowly and, despite occasional twists and turns, predictably. In an attempt to counteract this, the second half of the game is something of a mess, with numerous loose ends, unexplained motives (for example the sudden and inexplicable appearance of Nico), and an unsatisfying conclusion. The final third of the game also feels far too short, while the opening two thirds feels too long, creating a sense of imbalance. In addition, certain characters are unnecessarily overdeveloped, with key proponents in the game's storyline easily mistaken as minor characters. Whether this is a technique deliberately employed in order to deceive the player is unclear, however what is perfectly lucid is that Revolution have not given certain characters the attention they deserve.

Furthermore, the cutscenes of the game present the idea of a thrilling chase across Europe, with all sides caught up in a race against time to stop their adversaries from succeeding. While this approach certainly pays dividends in the movies, it does not lend itself well to the ambling pace of point 'n' click adventure games. Whereas previous games in the series saw George strolling around, picking up the odd clue and engaging in casual conversation, BS4 fails to successfully tap in to the mechanics of the genre. It is quite ridiculous, for example, when the player is forced to postpone the relentless pursuit of the bad guys in order to decide which item to combine with the paperclip.

Though The Angel of Death's story might not hold your attention, the puzzles certainly will, with a terrific blend of traditional "use x on y" situations and arguably the finest logic and riddle-based puzzles ever seen in a game of this type. While there are inevitably going to be one or two puzzles where the solution may seem a little obtuse, for the most part each puzzle strikes a perfect balance between difficulty and achievability. For example, one section of the game involves deciphering riddles from a manuscript by cross-referencing cryptic imagery with information available on an internet database (one of the many functions of the new PDA gadget). This is the first game I can recall where using Wikipedia might be considered a genuine (though by no means necessary) path to a solution!

It is worth mentioning at this point that The Angel of Death is the first game in the series that hasn't been developed by Revolution. Though Charles Cecil and co. are behind the story and the puzzle mechanics, it was Sumo Digital's responsibility to bring the project to life. And they certainly came on board with a glowing reputation: an amalgamation of Infogrames and Gremlin, they've produced recent hits TOCA Race Driver 2 and Virtua Tennis: World Tour. However, both the graphics and the gameplay of BS4 fall substantially short of the mark, with the latter in some cases reaching almost game-breaking proportions.

Considering there are so few environments in the game, it is disappointing that all of them look extremely washed-out, uninspired and insipid. The graphics are substantially worse than those found in the previous game, leading this reviewer to wonder why on earth Sumo were needed in the first place. That said, how the game looks is largely irrelevant, given the genre of game, and at least the graphics are functional enough to avoid hindering the puzzle solving.

What is a complete disaster, however, is the game's control system. Returning to the point 'n' click style of old, what Sumo have failed to successfully achieve is incorporating the classic controls into 3D environments. They do not help themselves by modelling almost all of the interior environments on an exact ninety degree axis, meaning that going through doors at the left and right of the screen can be, at times, extremely difficult. Add to this the fact that, in the larger outdoor environments, the camera is almost constantly in motion and BS4 makes for a frustrating experience to say the least. Just moving George from one building to another feels as though it is taking twice as long as it should, and our hero's movement is again hindered by the 'speed of movement' defaulting to walk every time the player interacts with the environment.

In contrast, the audio of the game continues the impeccably high standards set by Revolution in previous titles. The quality of the score means it now merits its own release in an official soundtrack and, despite an appallingly amateurish turn by Nico's actor, most of the characters are done justice with some compelling voice work. Rolf Saxon again excels himself as George Stobbart, now the suave, charming adventurer as opposed to the bumbling fop of old.

On the face of it, then, it doesn't look all good for The Angel of Death. The game feels rushed and unbalanced, the plot is unsatisfying, the controls are abhorrent and the environments look decidedly dull. However, as a long term fan of the series, it is hard to deny that there's nothing quite like a Broken Sword game. Yes, here comes the old allusion that "they don't make 'em like this anymore", but it's true, and in one sense the archaic, challenging and insular nature of adventure games is part of what makes them so appealing. Broken Sword: The Angel of Death is the most niche title in the series, demanding the most patient and unassuming of gamers, however if you fit that description, you should find yourself having more fun than you might expect. Otherwise, stay well clear. 59

Film: Dir. Rian Johnson - Brick

Dir. Rian Johnson
Brick
[Neo-noir/School]






Rian Johnson is a film-maker with an astonishingly original vision. For eight years he laboured to assemble the small budget necessary to bring his stylised high-school detective story to the screen. The results show a confident first-time director assembling an unclassifiable, strangely intriguing film.

Brendon is a tough but honest kid who stays outside the shady drug dealings of the so-called "Upper Crust" at his california school. Taking place in a semi-fantasy vision of a school which pays homage to the classic noir films, (The Maltese Falcon, Marlowe etc.) Brendon is thrust into a world of mystery, double crosses and intrigue. The cast talk in a mesmerising dialect full of outdated or imaginary slang; it's immediately clear that this is not a film which wants to make any sort of hard-hitting point about teenage substance abuse or the like. It's purpose is simply to enertain, and perhaps make a point about how magnified in importance school life can be. The eponymous "Brick" is a solidified block of heroin - and it's at the centre of a network of double-crossings involving Brendon, femme-fatale Laura, hired muscle Tug and the sinister "pin" or kingpin of all the dealing at the school. Assisted by sage-like geek Brain, Brendon's out to find the truth about his ex-girlfriend's death. The film opens with a haunting score, reminiscent of spaghetti-westerns, as Brendon discovers her body lying dead in an evocatively shot drainage channel. Cut to a couple of days earlier, and we see Brendon receiving an impassioned call for help from Emily.

Unfortunately, it's largely downhill from there. The more the plot unravels the more confusing it becomes, due in part to the lingo, some of which proves indeciphrable; it is often not couched in enough context or spoken clearly enough to be intelligible, and ends up impeding the story. Were it not for this layer of smoke and mirrors, the cliched plot would doubtless be utterly predictable; even as confused as I was, one could smell the twists a mile off; the hero playing the villains off against each other, the inevitable backstab from a hard hearted dame, and so on. Further, whilst at best, the high-school parallels with classic noir fit nicely, some of the more obvious scenes (the interrogation by the vice principle, for example) seem rather contrived to fit with in the confines of the genre. "You've helped this office in the past" bawls the VP, and one can't help being reminded of every confrontation between a washed-up detective and the local police chief in the history of cinema. The characters, too, are halfway between caricatures and fully-realised portraits; confronted with an array of dull archetypes, the viewer is never entirely engaged. At least the music, stylish cinematography and production design manage to provoke emotion, to an extent, but this is very much a film for the head, not the heart. If Johnson's next film-school exercise in style and genre-bending can manage to speak to us emotionally, he will have made a great film. As it is, he's only written and directed a pretty decent, very unique one.

65

Music: Peter Bjorn And John - Writer's Block

Peter Bjorn And John
Writer's Block
[Guitar Pop / Indie]






Over the past few years, Sweden has certainly had a lot to offer to the world of indie and alternative music. Bands such as The Hives, The Concretes and The Knife, for example, have all enjoyed degrees of critical or commercial success. However, no act has, of yet, successfully transcended the divide between acclaim and sales. It comes as no surprise, then, that on their second full-length release, Peter Bjorn And John attempt to fuse friendly, bitesize guitar pop with occasional (yet substantial) experimentation. Needless to say, while this approach is at times triumphant, it can also lead to some decidedly mixed results.

However, that is not to say that the trio have particular difficulty in either field - as the two opening songs immediately demonstrate. "Objects of My Affection" is bombastic, loud, messy and soulful, recalling My Bloody Valentine and Neutral Milk Hotel in equal measure. Crashing guitars, pounding drums and distant whistles provide a suitable template for Peter Bergsman's forced, slightly offbeat tone. 'I laugh more often now / I cry more often now / I am more me' is one among a host of memorable lines, all of which fit the defiant, emotive nature of the song.

Following on from such a strong opener is the tune that, I would hazard a guess, is the reason most people will buy Writer's Block. "Young Folks" has been on extremely heavy rotation since the summer, and deservedly so. Unfolding as an awkward, idyllic conversation between two...young folks (with The Concretes' Victoria Bergsman on hand to add an even dreamier touch), it's infectious whistled melody, groovy bass line, bongos, maracas and simple, programmed beats combine to gorgeous effect. While I wouldn't go as far as calling it pop perfection, it's damn close.

The sludgy "Amsterdam" then provides an interesting diversion, combining withdrawn vocals, another good backing beat, more piercing whistles and prominent bass to create an eerie (yet strangely relaxing) song quite unlike anything I'd heard before. Fourth song "Start To Melt" is the first disappointment of Writer's Block, attempting to recycle the overblown guitars of "Objects..." but coming off as slightly lacking in structure and direction. The lyrics also leave a lot to be desired; 'I start to melt / With your arms around my waist.' It's two minutes are easily forgotten, especially given the calibre of superb album centrepiece and last song of Part A (more on that later), "Up Against The Wall".

At seven minutes in length there is certainly room for creative manoeuvre, yet it is the song's charming simplicity that makes it so memorable. Pulsing drums and a gently plucked melody form the foundation for the verses, in which Bergsman details a difficult relationship: 'Bones are trembling, hands are cold / You don't know how it feels / You got me up against the wall'. In between each section, an additional guitar overlaps and winds around the main melody while moody synths hover in the background. It is at this point that Writer's Block (albeit briefly) achieves the ideal balance between creativity and accessibility, and when the spiralling extended outro then kicks in with two minutes remaining, it is a challenge not to grin with unbridled joy.

And so ends Part A - not a PB&J label but one which I have applied myself, one which describes what could also be known as "The Good Part of the Record". You see, Writer's Block is an extremely top-heavy record, to the point where roughly 80 percent of the latter half is completely disposable. "Paris 2004" tries to be sweet and ends up sickly; "Let's Call It Off" is barely listenable, early Beatles mimicry; "Roll The Credits" is over six minutes of strummed guitar, poor lyrics and dull vocals, and "Poor Cow" is more of the same but at an even slower pace.

Only "The Chills" - a song which easily matches the calibre of Part A - is a worthwhile listen on the second half of the album. Combining dense bass, an unconventional beat and frantic "shh-shh-shh-shh-shh"-es, it is certainly the most interesting song musically on Writer's Block, despite the fact that the chorus is quite weak and does nothing but restrict the momentum of the song.

In conclusion, it would be easy to write off Peter Bjorn And John as yet another group with a strong single, some bright moments and lot of dull ones; and perhaps that is what they deserve after producing Writer's Block. However, with such substantial and inspired creativity brimming in certain songs, it is puzzling as to why more of that energy could not be expended on every track. Whether that's down to writer's block, or just plain laziness, I guess we'll never know. 68

Film: Banlieue 13 (District 13) - Dir. Pierre Morel

Dir. Pierre Morel
Banlieue 13 (District 13)
[Action/Martial Arts]







Trust the french to have a martial arts film about running away.

For those unfamiliar with the sport, Parkour, or Free Running, is a physical discipline centred around the concept of using environments, in particular urban ones, as a giant adventure playground. The only objective is to start moving and to not let anything stop you, bypassing obstacles and using the environment in unusual and inventive ways. Spectacular jumps, vaults, flips, climbing, and a host of other moves comprise the visually stunning array of options a Traceur, as the participants are known, has at their fingertips.

In 2002, Luc Besson, the french action maestro behind films like The Fifth Element and Leon hit on two very simple, very good ideas. The first was to make a buddy action movie about parkour. The second was to make a near-future film in which the french government decides to cordon off entirely the most crime ridden suburbs (or Banlieue) of Paris. The result is one of the most energetic, pacey and politically relevant films for years; an action film which is both virtuoso entertainment and satire. Some critics will doubtless dismiss the political theme as heavy handed or superfluous, but if the flick was three hours long and full of symbolism, stilted dialogue and twenty second shots of coffee cups they would probably lap it up. One of District 13's chief virtues, in fact, is it's length; a svelte seventy-something minutes. It never bores, every scene is necessary and enjoyable, and the two leads, David Belle and Cyril Raffaelli, pull off convincing and likeable performances despite being Parkour/Stunt experts, not professional actors.

The plot is simple but effective; Leito (Belle) is a good guy in a bad neighbourhood; he fights against the local drug lord, Taha (played by scriptwriter Bibi Naceri) and his right hand man, K2 (Tony D'Amorio). After killing a corrupt police officer, he finds himself in jail. Damien (Raffaelli) is a police officer charged with a desperate mission; infiltrate the now closed off District 13 and recover a stolen nuke which is primed to blow. He is assigned Leito as a reluctant guide, whose sister is being kept, drugged, by Taha, and so begins the second half of the film; a non-stop orchestra of incredible stunts and fight scenes, made all the more potent by the knowledge that this film was wirework free. To detail some of the highlights; at one point Belle slides himself effortlessly in one clean jump through a tiny window above a locked door. In another, Raffaeli jumps clean over a long casino table and kicks an assailant; again, in a smooth fluid movement. In a third, the two protagonists run straight over a moving car which then crashes spectacularly. The action is the real star of the film, and the short length keeps all the in-between sequences relevant and suspenseful.

The only criticisms I can make are that Leito's sister (Dany Verrisimo) is weakly characterised and clearly a servant of the plot, that the music is all very similar, and the final revelation, whilst clever and politically charged (the french government aren't quite that bad, but they probably would if they could) doesn't quite hang together. Otherwise, this film comes highly reccommended; it's one of the most purely exhilarating films you'll see this year.

90

Film: Dir. Martin Scorsese - The Departed

Dir: Martin Scorsese
The Departed
[Thriller]

One the one hand, The Departed is the kind of movie that makes film makers up and down the country seeth with jealously. Every shot is exact - painstakingly crafted and costing thousands of dollars, the lead actors mostly turn in solid performances and the plot contains a suitable number of twists and turns to keep even the most ardent 24 fan on the edge of their seat. However, it is also produced so appallingly (with one of the most unsatisfying non-endings in recent memory) that any teen with a video camera will be wondering why they can't get a job in Hollywood.

The tagline is perhaps the best way to outline the plot of The Departed without giving too much away. "Cops or criminals - when you're facing a loaded gun, what's the difference?" growls Jack Nicholson in one of the movie's most memorable scenes. Nicholson plays the head of an Irish family business who want to secure a lucrative deal with the Chinese for an exchange of microchip technology. As you might expect, they also kill lots of people along the way with the help of guns, muscle (provided here by a typically gruff Ray Winstone) and sweet talking in restaurants.

However, what sets The Departed apart from run-of-the-mill cops and robbers thrillers is the much-alluded to dichotomy. You see, the cops have a rat inside the mob (a superb Leonardo Di Caprio), and the mob have a rat inside the police force (a predictable Matt Damon). Communications between the rats and their respective groups take place via numerous covert telephone conversations which arouse little or no suspicion, despite the fact that both sides know their ranks have been infiltrated.

At one point, for example, police rat Damon is caught by his boss whispering into a mobile phone and looking painfully secretive in a way that graduates of acting school really shouldn't. However, Damon simply explains that it is his mother on the line, to which his boss (Martin Sheen, still in West Wing mode) fails to react and thus refuses to pursue a blatantly unnatural situation. Nevertheless, Scorsese's direction and strong moments of dialogue ensure that such occasional blips are easily overlooked.

That is, of course, until the aforementioned car crash of an ending. While initially satisfying (for reasons which it would be inappropriate to discuss here), much of the conclusion of the film was clearly left on the cutting room floor and is extremely unsatisfactory considering the calibre of the previous 150 minutes. Loose ends are left hanging, but in a frustrating rather than intriguing manner. Furthermore, the ending does not mesh at all well with the slow, deliberate pacing of the movie.

So, though hampered by minor plot inconsistencies and a disastrous conclusion, The Departed remains a smart, funny, gripping thriller in the rightly revered Scorsese tradition. As a result, it comes highly recommended. 82

Games: KCET - Pro Evolution Soccer 6

KCET
Pro Evolution Soccer 6
[Sports Simulation]

Contrary to traditional Musically Sound methodology, I decided to browse through a handful of Pro Evolution Soccer 6 reviews prior to writing my own. However, fear not loyal readers, for this investigative journalism was undertaken purely for pleasure. You see, the Pro Evolution Soccer series has long been subjected to what I call "back of the box" reviews - that is, reviews simply listing the features given out in press releases - which are often highly amusing. The sixth instalment in the series is no different, with analysis focused on such trivialities as the new animations, new teams, and even, wait for it, fully licensed French, Spanish, Dutch and Italian leagues!

This style of review also inevitably leads to the same conclusion year upon year - that nothing much has changed and FIFA is catching up slightly and the commentary ain't great and ooh er that Seabass fella better buck his ideas up or he could find himself out of a job. Not only is this conclusion worryingly widespread, it is completely farcical and something I hope to debunk over the course of this review.

Analysing what it is exactly that makes Konami's long-running series of football games so majestic is made increasingly difficult when horrid clichés are banded about and consequently accepted as the definitive explanation of the Pro Evolution Soccer experience. While such slogans are plentiful, the claim that PES "feels just like real football" is my personal favourite. Having seemingly been mandatory for the last five years, this phrase is beginning to wear thin even by games journalism standards. Not only that, it simply isn't true. Ask anyone new to the series to describe the game’s mechanics and I guarantee that the clunky, loping style and mathematical, unforgiving passing system would not make their fingers tingle with appreciation for the beautiful game.

This is especially with true PES6, whose overhauled passing and shooting system initially feels entirely broken; passes dither and are easily intercepted, shots float harmlessly into the keeper's arms, scoring one-on-ones is practically impossible. The frustration grows when free kicks appear to have no power, headers are horribly misplaced, tackling doesn't always work and through balls are impossible to defend against. Make no mistake - the first few days of PES6 are brutal; relentless; unfair; helpless.

And then it comes. Firstly, a slick passing move - one-twos, full backs overlapping, midfielders surging beyond the line of defence - moving the ball becomes easier, quicker and more responsive. Shots from outside the box suddenly have more bite to them; free kicks are whipped rather than floated; headed pellets become headed bullets; slotting the ball past an onrushing keeper seems too easy. "How can this be?" comes the first question, "What am I doing now that I wasn't doing before?" And yet there is no answer, no explanation, nothing to measure your achievement against except that you have cracked the uncrackable and haven't the foggiest idea how or why.

This elation, of course, is followed by utter dismay as the inevitable dip in form sets in. Games you should win are frustrating draws, even games result in defeat and goals seem a million miles away. And so the process continues for the next twelve months – peaks and troughs, highs and lows – a relentless ride off which there is no escape.

And it is this seemingly ridiculous, emotional attachment to every minute of every game that ensures the PES format will always be a successful one. There are as many tight midfield scraps as there are incidents in and around the penalty area, yet the thrill never ceases. Some would argue that this is simply the nature of the sport, however that argument is easily countered by the torrent of horrendous football games we have been subjected to over the years (Three Lions, FIFA post-1996 and the This is Football and Actua Soccer series to name but a few).

Yes, some teams don’t have full licensing. Yes, the translation isn’t word perfect. Yes, the number and format of competitions has remained unchanged for a number of years. In addition, you could even argue that this review doesn't actually review the specifics of the game at all. However, it doesn't need to.

No amount of graphical polish, licensed music, marketing campaigns or attempted gameplay theft can ever make a FIFA game comparable to a PES game in the foreseeable future. Football is a sport so diverse and complex that it is impossible to ever imagine recreating it on a small screen in a living room. Make no mistake, however, that the Pro Evolution Soccer series is the only worthwhile attempt to extrapolate what it is that makes the sport so appealing. So, while caressing a pad in a muggy room may never feel like football, Pro Evolution Soccer 6 takes another important (and successful) step towards understanding what it is to feel football. 98

Music: The Pipettes - We Are The Pipettes

The Pipettes
We Are The Pipettes
[Pop]






This review is a bit late in coming, however I feel it is necessary to expose one of the biggest missed opportunities in 2006. You see, The Pipettes have put out some of the sweetest pop songs this year ("'Dirty Mind", "Your Kisses Are Wasted On Me", "Pull Shapes"), yet this half-hour collection of post-trendy, 60s girl group-aping nostalgia trip fever features a stunning percentage 0f stunningly dull filler. I mean at least half the record's running time - now that's stunning.

In addition to the aforementioned singles. the genuinely funny "It Hurts To See You Dance So Well" ('Half-past one on the dancefloor / And my thoughts they turn to murder') and bully-baiting "Judy" are highly memorable moments among the new material. Sadly, however, the majority of We Are The Pipettes opts to coast along on a wave of mid-tempo mediocroty and features extreme repititions on a theme ("Tell Me What You Want", "Sex", "One Night Stand" - have you guessed it yet?) that quickly becomes dull after repeat listens. It is especially puzzling to listen to sequences of bouncy, proto-feminist, sugar-sweet indignations only to be reminded in a lonesome ballad such as "Winter's Sky" that, actually, men might be important after all.

That said, I have perhaps been overly harsh in my criticism of the entire output from what are, in essence, a harmless singles band who'll be fortunate to make it beyond a third album. Nevertheless, after seeing Brighton's premier vocal trio aiming (and reaching) so high with their early singles, it is disheartening to hear such an underwhelming full-length from The Pipettes. 63