Games: Take 2 - Bioshock

Take 2 Boston/Australia
Bioshock
[First-Person Shooter]







Adored by new games journalists everywhere, Bioshock launched last month amidst a snowstorm of hype, and, by all accounts, fulfilled it's lofty expectations in terms of both sales and critical acclaim. So why, in case you've been living under a gaming rock, has Bioshock been heralded the poster boy of intelligent games? Well, for one, it's been marketed (really well) as the spiritual successor to System Shock; a story-based sci-fi fps-rpg whose critical regard was only matched by the incompetence with which it was sold to the gaming public. Then there's the fact that behind the shooting and the mutants there's a story so well crafted, and so imbued with philosophical and political significance that it should be the final insult to anyone who believes videogames cannot be art.

In 1960, the player finds themselves the victim of a plane crash in the middle of the Atlantic, and takes shelter in a lighthouse, which contains a bathysphere that transports them thousands of feet under the sea to an underwater city; Rapture.

It transpires that Rapture is the work of one Andrew Ryan, a Kane-esque tycoon who has built the city in order to create an idealistic utopia where the best and brightest should not be constrained by government meddling or the ignorance of the masses; in the words of Ryan himself; "A city where the artist would not fear the censor. Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality. Where the great would not be constrained by the small."

The most eagle eyed of readers might have noticed the similarity of his name to thinker Ayn Rand, who created the philosophy of objectivism; and indeed, the whole story stands as an examination of that viewpoint; it's merits; it's fallacies; the idealists who make it attractive; and the brutes who destroy it. There is more depth and food for thought in the relatively simple storyline than a dozen Gears of War.

Of course, when the player finds themselves in Rapture, the dream is dead. Thanks to a sea sponge which creates stem cells, the inhabitants of Rapture are able to indulge in instant genetic modification, and by the time of your arrival, most of them are addicted to "Adam", the raw material behind their gene splicing, and are utterly batshit, forming the bulk of the enemies you battle. The city has descended into first civil war and then utter anarchy, and the now desperate, unstable Ryan's dream lies in tatters. You'll also encounter the uniquely disturbing pairing of "Little Sisters", brainwashed little girls trained to extract Adam from corpses, and "Big Daddies"; post-human protectors looking like a cross between deep sea divers and hulking mechs. The player can pick a fight with these ferocious defenders in order to either save the Little Sister, removing the controller parasite from her body, or harvesting her Adam, effectively killing the little girl but giving the player a better shot at survival.

The world of Rapture is one of the most unique and compelling created in a work of fiction, let alone a videogame. The city is a 1930's art deco / steampunk edifice, complete with water based computing devices that can be hacked by diverting the water flow, period boutiques and deliciously retro posters reminiscent of classic ads or wartime propaganda. The world slowly unfurls, introducing the player to almost completely distinct areas of the city, and filling in the backstory by the discovery of audiologs left behind by the city's inhabitants.

The only criticisms I can level at Bioshock are gameplay ones; the game feels unbalanced at times, the wrench being a more useful weapon than all the guns you acquire, and the difficulty curve is odd; the game actually gets easier the more you progress. Chuck in almost instant "respawning" after death, and the game feels almost unsatisfyingly easy and dumbed down in comparison with it's predecessor, especially the RPG elements, which now simply consist of choosing the different plasmids (read; genetic superpowers) and gene tonics (always active enhancements) you can equip your character with. Nonetheless, there is an astonishing range of these, and they're all highly entertaining; sending a swarm of insects after an enemy then freezing them before smashing them with a wrench never gets old. The guns all have a range of different ammo types, which make a real difference to the gameplay, and the enemies behave intelligently; hiding on ceilings, using health stations, infighting and so forth; one of my favourite strategies was to use a plasmid to "hypnotise" a Big Daddy into acting as a bodyguard, then siccing it on another Big Daddy, giving a risk-free takedown. On a technical level, the game is superb, especially the water effects, although irksomely, if you're playing the PC version, you'll find a lack of support for SM2 video cards; however, community made patches solve this and get excellent framerates.

Of special merit is the glorious sound design, and a period soundtrack which evokes the world as well as the art does. Nothing compares to hearing the dull roars and floor-shaking stamps of a Big Daddy as you battle it to the strains of "Papa Loves Mambo".

As if this wasn't enough, two thirds of the way through the plot kicks into high gear, and explains neatly a couple of things you might have dismissed as clumsy or tiresome. It flips genre cliches on their head in a way that makes the fourth-wall breking of Metal Gear Solid look gauche in comparison. I want to say as little as I can about this game, simply because it must be experienced firsthand in it's entirety. Don't expect perfection, but do expect to be stunned.

96

Feature: View to a Review

Ever since its humble beginnings in the late 1970s, the practise of playing video games has been long sneered at, with smug contempt, by every corner of the arts world. It is seen as adolescent (even though the largest market is the 21-30 age group), anti-social (because reading a book isn’t) and anti-cultural, lacking the intellectual integrity of more traditional art forms. And, without doubt, this reputation is justly deserved. Rather than emphasising the importance of imagination and artistic vision, mainstream games journalists are instead keen to push the soulless pursuit of technical perfection, at all costs, with little room for manoeuvre. The reasoning behind this, I believe, lies in the traditional scoring system that, over the years, has become institutionalised almost to the point of decree, suffocating the misfits, the outcasts and the occasional geniuses in the manner of a school exam paper.

When a game is reviewed, it is often scored on sub-scales which denote, with almost mathematical precision, the merits of a title’s component parts. ‘Graphics’, ‘gameplay’, ‘sound’ and ‘longevity’ are the usual suspects, apparently the main criteria by which any game should be judged, the reason we buy games; they look good, play good, sound good and last good (not, you may be thinking, because they are original, thought-provoking or artistic).

The most contentious of the big four is ‘graphics’ which, in the games industry, might as well be represented by a big, fat dollar sign. The reason one game looks better than another, from a technical point of view, is simply a matter of money - studios with greater cash reserves can employ more staff to work longer, no doubt using better equipment. As technology continues to advance and more realistic techniques are developed and utilised (such as post-processing, anisotropic filtering, anti-aliasing, real-life physics and lighting), the smaller studios will be forced to accept that, in review terms, their games will always be starting a few points behind.

Artistic divergence in the industry is seemingly frowned upon as a dangerous form of deviancy, chained to a bygone era, nothing more than a worthless distraction when a faceless marine can shine a light on swaying grass and cast a real-time, high-resolution shadow. Cel-shading - the bright, blocky, cartoon style of thick black lines and bold colours - is now an industry in-joke, a failed experiment, forced to hide its pretty face in niche titles.

Killer 7 - arguably the best-looking game on PS2

Meanwhile, games built around the Doom 3 engine are lauded as glorious landmarks of the highest order and presented as the pinnacle of the form’s achievement, reaping countless stamps of four-star saleability because, let’s face it, no-one makes five-star games anymore. All that games like Quake 4 and Prey achieve is corridors, corridors, and more corridors, metaphorical and physical; shiny, claustrophobic, silvery boxes with just enough room to circle strafe and absolutely nothing more (it wouldn’t be economical). Ten hours after the opening credits, you’re still in a corridor, trapped inside the maddening steel asylum, praying for the last cutscene, praying for the big thing with weak points on its back, praying for a release. If Prey were a film, it would be ten seconds of footage from Alien looped over and over and over for twelve hours. And not the chest-bursting bit, either.

Speaking of another primarily visual medium, if a film review were to discuss how the latest release looked, would it mention the image resolution? Of course it wouldn’t, it would measure the authenticity, the ambition and the artistry of the images. Modelling miles of corridor is none of these; it is simple, boring and artistically redundant. So why the high score for graphics? The only explanation is that marks are being awarded for the engine’s visual capabilities, but such an approach is akin to rating a camera, a pair of headphones or, sin of all sins, judging a book by its cover.

Prey - Look at all that gorgeous metal!

Two of the other common criteria under the microscope - longevity and sound - are almost as baffling. Firstly, whoever devised the idea of measuring a work of art by its physical size must, to say the least, have peculiar taste. Very few seven-hundred page novels are a Gravity’s Rainbow, very few hour-length records match London Calling and, as films go, for every Godfather there are ten Deer Hunters. With the costs of committed gaming remaining astronomically high, concerns regarding value for money are valid, however I assure you there is far more value in four hours of Metal Gear Solid 2 than Doom 3’s never-ending slog. Don’t misunderstand me here - I am the first to immerse myself in a hundred hours of each new Final Fantasy - just know that, if I commit time to a game, I should do so through want rather than need. In other words, I want to be lost in a different world, not eyeing the clock with a solemn frown, tallying the hours as they slip away.

Sound is the viola of the bunch - the member of the quartet that often finds itself at the bottom of the pile, ironically making the least noise, more often than not to make up the numbers. After all, what is sound but a few nice effects and the odd orchestral piece here and there? Technically, I suppose, it is, but string arrangements need orchestras and footsteps need studios - both of which cost money. Even more outrageous is when a game is complimented for having a good array of licensed music or high-quality voice acting, both akin to complimenting a film on its budget or an album on the cost of the recording studio.

The inbuilt bias towards wealthier companies is only half of the problem, however, given the extent to which in-game sound is currently viewed as nothing more than elaborate, slightly pleasant but ultimately inessential window-dressing. To reviewers I say this: where would Deus Ex’s chilling atmosphere have been without its concave techno minimalism? Where would any of the Silent Hill Games have been without Akira Yamaoka’s brutal noise assault? Though the answer is not quite “nowhere”, it is certainly a case of either “elsewhere” or “anywhere”.

The fourth and final yard stick for assessing a game’s merits in traditional games journalism is the concept of gameplay. What this means in reality is not, “How enjoyable/fresh/exciting is the game?” but, rather, “Does the game have any technical faults?” If the answer to the latter question is “no”, the gameplay is considered perfect and, in the case of any errors, reviewers appear to work backwards from the top score. Dodgy camera? Minus one. Bad collision detection? Minus another. An absence of detachable limbs and breakable crates? Simply unforgivable.

Rather than rewarding creativity, ingenuity, risk-taking and originality, this negative approach punishes games according to a remarkably narrow-minded, almost Puritanical, petty set of guidelines: “I don’t care if I was forced to question my own existence,” complains the critic, “because, without a quick turn button, I had to rotate my character manually.” This, in another lifetime, might also have been my assessment of Silent Hill. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

Lacking the open-minded input of constructive criticism, films might still follow straightforward, chronological plot lines, all books would have a beginning, middle and an end and songs would have a chorus to every verse. This is an especially pertinent issue in a games industry where critics are relied upon more than in any other art medium, where games cost ten times as much as a cinema ticket and where the cost of failure is thus higher than the reward of ten great successes. Tellingly, the closest the games industry has got to a Lynch is Suda 51 who, without wishing to sound disrespectful, is more ‘Blue Monday’ than Blue Velvet.

By basing their reputation on not upsetting casual players, games journalists are being deconstructive and, ironically, restricting themselves. Scores out of ten have taken on a kind of concrete, mythological symbolism; seven out of ten has, almost without fail, come to indicate an average game, while eights are reserved for shallow, good-looking titles, six is for film tie-ins and console strategy games, five and below is for any company not likely to take offence and the hallowed perfect score, reserved for console mascots, is almost always met with murmurs of discontent: “But how can this game have got a ten? There’s some sound clipping on level eight near the east side of the waterfall.”

Gears of War - another "great" game...ugh

What I propose (and what I attempt to practise in my own reviews) is a policy of less structure, less maths, less negativity, fewer trivialities and a greater spread of scores. If a game is well-produced but worthless as a work of art, it deserves a three or four, not an easy eight. Conversely, if a game reinvents the wheel before crashing spectacularly, a six is more appropriate than a two. Games which make an important artistic and/or cultural statement should be rewarded with the maximum score (I’m thinking along the lines of Thief, Resident Evil, Grim Fandango, Final Fantasy VII, Deus Ex, Half-Life, Silent Hill 2, Operation Flashpoint, Fahrenheit or Killer 7, to name a few) rather than ones which do everything well enough so as not to be at fault (Freedom Fighters, Black, Splinter Cell, Halo). Also, it is crucial to note that not being fallible is a far cry from being infallible and, even more importantly, that developers and publishers will continue to churn out such wearyingly safe titles if they cannot help but witness such glowing approval.

The quickest way for the games industry shed its image as the boyish, pimply, confused cousin of music, movies and literature is to no longer tolerate the derivative and unmotivated menace that has plagued the industry for so long, instead embracing the weird and the wonderful rather than the type of shallow, proto-fascist bilge legitimated every time Gears of War earns a gold star. The most effective vessels for this sea change are the yellowing keyboards of games journalists around the world who, with the right motivations and the right intentions, can change the way we play games forever and, finally, put an end to that debate.

Games: GSC Game World - S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Shadow of Chernobyl

GSC Game World
S.T.A.L.K.E.R.
[First-Person Shooter/RPG]






The Plot: after a second incident at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant in the Ukraine, disparate groups of stalkers have flocked to the area following rumours of valuable artefacts spread all around the area. One stalker is found, alive, among a pile of corpses, and is brought to a nearby trader who sets him up for a life in The Zone. A single objective remains on his old PDA: “Kill Strelok”.

I first saw a trailer for S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Shadow of Chernobyl five years ago. At the time, I found the level of detail exhibited by GSC Game World’s nascent X-Ray engine to be scarily realistic, not least because back then, in 2002, real-time dynamic lighting and accurate physics were a big deal. Now, four years after Half-Life 2, wobbly chairs and breakable lights only raise an eyebrow when not included in the latest game. Even the once-formidable promise of a large, fully-interactive, living and breathing land-mass now fails to excite in the wake of games like Oblivion.

Arguably, however, Sergiy Grygorovych and his team only have themselves to blame for the problem; the game, blighted by countless delays, was released years overdue. And, like many games infamous for being delayed, it is chaotic, confused, at times disastrous and often hopelessly overambitious. Yet, in spite (of perhaps because) of all its flaws, Shadow of Chernobyl is one of the best PC games in a long while.

Given their sheer volume, attempting to list all of the game’s deficiencies would be a futile exercise. However, a few are nevertheless worth noting. Technically, it is a complete dog’s breakfast, stuttering erratically and frequently to load extra details during gameplay. Even on lower settings, it was almost possible to hear my computer groaning under the pressure of managing the 30,000+ objects active during a game. Additionally, the in-game currency system is pretty useless, not only because they player will gather more than enough money through the course of the adventure to buy out all of the businesses in The Zone twice over, but also because a powerful enough arsenal can be acquired without ever visiting any of the game’s three merchants (more than anything else it reminded me of the similarly flawed system in the Grand Theft Auto series). Thirdly, the end of the game was clearly rushed, and has suffered for it. What I thought to be the final third of the game turned out to be a manic half-hour dash through the final three maps, which were cluttered with so many enemies that the only viable option was to dump almost all of my kit, jam the sprint key and run like the wind for a couple of miles. When compared to the carefully-considered, brooding menace of the early stages, it felt shallow and unnecessary.

It is also one of the most unpolished major releases in a while, shipping with a plethora of aesthetic errors (poor translation, broken objectives) and graphic misdemeanours (bad clipping, disappearing corpses). However, if you’re anything like me, you’ll enjoy the ramshackle production and sharp edges which, as previously witnessed in Operation Flashpoint and Deus Ex, lend the game a rare humanity in a format largely characterised by dismal sterility. Dare I say it, if ever there could be a punk approach to video game development, Shadow of Chernobyl’s rough and ready, distinctly three-chord approach is as close as you’re going to get.

“So,” you may rightfully inquire, “why is it so great?” Well, it is so, so, so great because, first and foremost, it is a significant artistic achievement. As far as I can recall, no development team has ever attempted to set a 3D game in or around the Chernobyl power plant. However, GSC Game World’s creation is stunningly imaginative, engrossing and believable. From the deserted outer reaches of the Cordon and Garbage areas, to the unhinged claustrophobia of the underground ‘X’ laboratories, to the diseased swaps of the Yantar region, to the sharp undulations of the Red Forest, to the numb emptiness of the neighbouring city, Pripyat, to the oppressive gloom of the plant itself, each of the areas is a notable feat. Even more standard locations like the Army Warehouses and the Agropom Research Institute possess character, successfully managing to avoid the dreaded cut ’n’ paste fingerprint of professional editing software.

What is perhaps most impressive of all about the environments, however, is the noticeable lack of contact the player is likely to experience. At times, for example, it is possible to explore the ins and outs of a complex base without encountering a soul. As such, it would seem as though the levels were constructed without the usual confines of “an explosive barrel here” and “a sniping position there” that often plague less free-form shooters. That said, the level of detail is still incredibly high throughout, with supplies hidden away in the most unlikely (and often unreachable) of places, meaning each location is worth exploring thoroughly.

Did someone say exploring? Shadow of Chernobyl is certainly a sizeable game, with a potential lifespan of thirty hours if the entire array of secondary missions is attempted. Though I’m not a believer in the much-cited proportionality between the length of a game and its merit, this world is one which most players will be compelled to lose themselves in.

Another impressive feature of the game is the self-sustaining nature of the environment. AI stalkers will explore, jostle for territory, fight mutants, pick up and drop equipment and congregate around camp fires, all of their own accord, again helping to reinforce the authenticity of the absorbing atmosphere. Moreover, the first time I witnessed a fellow survivor strumming an incongruous thread of chords on a bruised guitar was, to say the least, a particularly memorable moment.

Shadow of Chernobyl also presents an interesting moral dilemma worthy of discussion. At the beginning of my journey as the mysterious (anti-)hero known only as “The Marked One”, I was almost too scared to move. Whether that was due to the lack of constraint, the dearth of supplies, the lack of allies, the hostility of the environment (as well as radioactivity, the player must avoid ‘anomalies’ - large, often invisible environmental entities spewing fire, lightning and so forth) or another, unseen factor, I’m not entirely sure. What was certain, though, was that I was dizzy with relief every time I managed to make a new friend or get my novice hands on bullets and bandages. Hell, even a processed sausage was treasure. By the end of the game, however, tanked up with the best weapons and equipment and all but invincible to small arms fire, I found myself executing random stalkers at will, at times even wiping out entire groups just because I could. Not only is the changing power structure of the world interesting to experience first hand, it also gives the player a real sense of satisfaction as previously challenging areas which saw The Marked One ducking for cover can later be used for a relaxed, early morning stroll.

Speaking of the dawn hours, Shadow of Chernobyl also features a fully-functional day/night cycle, with each ‘day’ lasting around two hours in real time. This leads to the occasional late night jaunt in low visibility which, at times, is almost as terrifying as the edge-of-seat madness encountered in the aforementioned ‘X’ laboratories; if you thought the tension in Oblivion’s underground caverns was unbearable, wait until you’re being stalked through a pitch-black death trap by a seven-foot, sprinting, invisible Bloodsucker while being pelted with boxes and barrels by an equally invisible (and seemingly invincible) Poltergeist.

Considering how seriously you take your guns, the best feature of Shadow of Chernobyl may in fact be the impressive ballistics system. Early pistols look and feel like pea shooters - pathetically weak and horribly inaccurate - while some of the high-tech gear encountered towards the end of the game (including a grenade launcher, an RPG, and a rail gun, no less) can rip anything to shreds at a hundred paces. None of the guns have their real-life names but, considering the confidence boost attained when wielding some of the more arcane, shrapnel-spitting beasts, that’s probably a good thing.

With such a plethora of impressive traits - some of them ground-breaking (the art direction, the chilling atmosphere, the adaptive AI) and some of them just very well done (good guns, good role-playing elements, good story) - it is a great shame that Shadow of Chernobyl is prevented from entering the realm of all-time greats on a handful of niggles. The technical and production issues are incidental, neither major nor hugely noticeable, but for me the end sequence is incredibly disappointing and, to a degree, undermines the impression left by such an accomplished and harrowing vision of the near future.

Nevertheless, Shadow of Chernobyl remains a valuable comment on the material focus of our times. By exposing the ills of a world where driven treasure hunters look for property in the wilderness, a world of rigid structures where those with the most goods rule the roost and a world where making as few enemies as possible is a major priority, GSC have provided a formidable allegory for twenty-first century culture. 88

Feature: The Art of the Anti-game

Unlike almost every other cultural medium (literature, art, music, film), displeasing the recipient in a video game is regarded as an unacceptable fault, essentially a sign of weakness on the part of those responsible. The problem lies in the perception of the role video games have to play in society. To many, the clue is in the name, with the purpose of a game to please, to entertain and to occupy, acting as a pleasant distraction from the bad-tempered adrenalin rush of modern times.

However, while respected musicians have indulged in noise and drone, celebrated authors have streamed their conscience to great acclaim and revered movie makers have delighted in not making sense, few (if any) video games have ever been successfully recognised or applauded for being deliberately bad, clichéd or difficult. There are many examples I could cite for the purposes of this essay, but the two I will discuss are a pair which I believe to be among the most important anti-games - Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty and Silent Hill 4: The Room. The former is essential because it was heavily criticised yet still regarded as instant classic, but for all the wrong reasons, while the latter is even more impressive as an example of the type of game which knowingly makes off-putting design choices, almost purposefully inciting derision purely for thrill of being perceived a failure.

Throughout the months of trailers leading up to the release of MGS2 we were treated to more than enough shots of the Playstation 2’s unofficial mascot, Solid Snake, cavorting aboard an oil tanker in the Hudson River. However, when the game was released, Snake was only playable for the first fifth of the game (the section included on the pre-release demo), before the player was suddenly burdened with a young, blonde, androgynous, idealistic and sentimental protagonist by the name of Raiden. This was a stroke of genius for so many reasons, the most notable of which was the deliberate exclusion of the reason many people may have bought the game in the first place.

Tough, masculine and oh so heterosexual, Snake was as formulaic a hero as you might expect to find in any cheap and cheerful action game/movie/book. He was Slash, Jack Ryan and John McClane all rolled into one, definitely cool and definitely male; all the men wanted to be him, all the women wanted to be of him. Raiden, on the other hand, was more of a Ziggy Stardust or a Travis Bickle - unsure, awkward and unwanted - and rapidly became the most loathed character in videogame history.

And all this from Hideo Kojima, the industry’s bright light and the one who could not stop sounding off about why he loved Bond films, why everyone loved Snake and why games should be more like movies. And then, when everyone had their backs turned and was relieved to be approaching the end of the game and the end of Raiden, he plunged in the knife, turned it into a movie, complete with half-hour cutscenes, nonsensical plot developments and thousands of lines of radio dialogue heaped on top of one another, pushing the player’s patience to breaking point. “You made your bed”, he whispered, “now lie in it”.

The game was also infused with a unique blend of magic realism that many found off-putting, featuring a vampire, a fat guy on rollerblades who plants bombs (called Fatman), the return of a ninja character and, perhaps most significant of all in videogame terms, a physicallyunattractive female character. The hairy, crop-topped, treacherous Olga was such an affront to video game convention that, even today, she remains the only significant character of her type that I can recall.

In such a conventional setting (New York, terrorists, presidents, guns, bombs, gore), Kojima crafted a masterpiece of an anti-game heretofore unmatched which, despite being critiqued as much as it was praised, still managed to earn tremendously high review scores. Why? Simple - because it is Kojima and because it is Metal Gear Solid.

Not knowing what to make of it, critics loved it through gritted teeth and clenched fists, no doubt skipping most of the later cutscenes, longing for original’s simplicity but knowing that, because of all the features and first looks and interviews and exclusives, to slam the game would have been akin to smacking a small child. MGS2 was their baby - they had brought it up and unleashed it on the world - so the perceived faults were overlooked as minor teething problems, a man’s mind stretched too far for its own good, an honest mistake. In reality, he duped us all, critics and fans alike, by being antagonistic and successful, proving once and for all that a game could be great by not being fun.

The case of Silent Hill 4: The Room is not so clear cut as MGS2 because, by their very nature, Silent Hill titles exist as anti-games to an extent; they are short, unfair, disturbing and mature, avoiding survival horror clichés like the plague (or should that be like the T-Virus). However, where the first three games in the series were each an example of meshing playability with the unpleasant, SH4 attempted to be unpleasant aesthetically as well as structurally. By the time the third game had garnered the series more reserved praise and an even more limited market, the developers clearly realised they had room to experiment like never before.

With the dark, brooding atmosphere and intellectualism remaining firmly intact, Team Silent took it upon themselves to really screw with your mind, breaking more taboos than any carrier bag or shard of glass ever could. Instead of looking for new ways to be controversial, they scoured video game archives for the various techniques and methods which infuriate conventional gamers, often driving them to give up on a game entirely.

I’m talking about a limited inventory system (where ten bullets use up as much space as a golf club), excessive backtracking, respawning enemies, mixing first- and third-person perspectives, limited save points and, perhaps the most unforgivable offence of all, invincible enemies. Apart from some backtracking, none of these things appeared in previous Silent Hill titles, so the obvious question is, “If it ain’t broke, why try to fix it?” The answer, though, is an effortlessly simple one of the Piperian variety: “Because we want to.”

When Lou Reed made Metal Machine Music, he wanted to piss people off. He was rich, talented, famous and admired, but he chose to do that which is so often frowned upon: he went pretentious. In SH4 it was no different; Team Silent must have tired of experimenting with light, texture and sound in order to assemble as unpleasant an atmosphere as possible and, instead, indulged themselves in the forbidden fruit of video game development - the noble art of the deliberate mistake.

In addition to the aforementioned changes, the men and women at Konami opted to deconstruct that which they had created: the Silent Hill cliché. Along with the lack of save points (normally there is one around every second corner), they removed the flashlight and the radio (akin to taking herbs out of Resident Evil titles or summons out of the Final Fantasy series), removed the choking darkness and much of the legendary mist and even set the game outside Silent Hill; to all intents and purposes, it wasn’t a Silent Hill game.

As a result, it was arguably an even greater anti-game than Kojima’s glorious spectacle because, unlike MGS2, it actually angered gamers as much as, if not more than, it set out to. “Roll out the 6/10!” cried the video game world, “Its Silent Hill, folks, but know as we know it.” What they meant to say was that The Room was Silent Hill, but not as they wanted it. The nurses, the lead pipes and the stuttering hiss of radio static had become the norm to such an extent that the slightest whiff of variety was a crushing disappointment.

What most critics didn’t count on was the fact that, as well as collapsing the foundations of their own, strenuously-established reputation, Konami wanted SH4 to be known as the game where the even best in the business could prove to be fallible. In doing so, they successfully galvanized anticipation ahead of the series’ next-generation debut - the arena where the series will surely thrive - without anyone the wiser. And anyway, everyone who bought Silent Hills 1, 2 and 3 would have bought the game anyway, so the risk factor was minimal all along.

Was it cynical ploy, a cheeky shot of revenge on behalf of the anti-game, or neither? You decide.

Games: Square Enix - Final Fantasy XII

Square Enix
Final Fantasy XII
[Role-Playing Game]

Square Enix’s Final Fantasy series is, arguably, the reason Sony has managed to maintain its lead in the console market all these years. While Nintendo’s steady demise was instigated by a mixture of self-inflicted design flaws (cartridges instead of CDs, that controller) and catalysed by a weak selection of killer titles (Zelda, Mario, Goldeneye and…um…a Resident Evil remake), Microsoft’s Xbox has earned itself a considerable fan base. And with the Playstation’s increasingly reliable Grand Theft Auto series defecting, it looked at one point as though Gates and friends were going to take the lead.

Alas it was not to be, however, and it appears the reason many have resisted the urge to invest in a 360, disk scratching issues notwithstanding, is the wait for the much-anticipated twelfth installment. Just to put the series’ popularity in perspective, Final Fantasy X sold five million copies (making it one of the twenty best selling video games of all time), and was recently voted the Japanese public’s favourite game of all time in Famitsu. Even the game’s short, rushed, confused and nonsensical semi-sequel, Final Fantasy X-2, managed to shift three million units worldwide. Now that’s what I call market influence.

And thus we come to the inevitable question – has the five year wait been worth it? In short, yes. All the main Final Fantasy titles come with hours of game time and tons of side quests, making them, if nothing else, excellent value for money.

However, one of the main issues I had with FFX was a worryingly Kojima-esque trend to make the game as much like a movie as possible. Cutscenes positively littered the first ten hours, suffocating any sense of momentum and introducing us to some of the most unlikable characters yet seen in the series. Thankfully, the whole experience lasted in excess of 150 hours, making the initial slog forgivable in the context of an (eventually) well-realised, pleasantly convoluted story, the series’ best combat system and an obscene amount of extras.

Despite the aforementioned strengths, though, it was all a bit too serious for my liking. Sure, there were mini-games aplenty, but accompanying them was a distinct lack of the quirky Asian humour fans have come to love. Like FF8, it was all a bit too whiny and self-important, crucially forgetting that, in a nutshell, it was still a traditional RPG where players loot villages, kill dragons, cast spells and adventure in tightly-structured manner.

Thankfully, the team at Square Enix appears to have acknowledged the series’ limitations and opted for a much more light-hearted approach in FFXII, the last of the series to be produced for the current ‘generation’. It could be the race of bunny girls, the tigers with Indian accents or the alligators hailing straight from the streets of Kingston (or even an interesting combination of all three), but the game’s wackiness is sure to please even the most hard-nosed of gamers.

Instead of the (admittedly compelling) life and death musing from the last game, the plot has been toned down somewhat and is, to put it mildly, extremely basic. And this is surely a good thing, given the more free-roaming nature of the game. Fortunately, that doesn’t mean another urban crime-’em-up, though, just that the game takes place in a world which is fully traversable. A happy medium has been struck between the fully open-ended world maps of the earlier games and FFX’s disjointed, menu-accessed locations and, while this does mean the player can potentially wander into level sixty monsters in the first hour of play, it’s a risk worth taking when recalling the horribly claustrophobic kingdom of Spira.

One obvious downside of the new approach is that, at times, the story’s grip on the player can tend to loosen. For instance, the player can partake in a number of optional monster hunts that, if attempted immediately, provide a satisfying challenge. These hunts can take up to an hour of game time to complete and, considering that up to five may become available at once, some involve puzzle solving and a handful are punishingly difficult, it’s easy to see how Vaan’s tale can become lost in the wilderness. That said, the plot is essentially this: an evil man is doing something evil that will enable him to rule world with an evil hand and must be stopped because he’s evil, so it’s pretty easy to get back on board after some voluntary questing.

The new combat system, taking place in real-time without a transition between exploring and battle modes, has attracted much attention, but it really isn't that much of an improvement. Instead of the more tactical and lengthy battles veterans have become accustomed to, battles mostly take the form of a three-pronged charge and lots of sword swinging (handled automatically by the 'gambit' system). You might get the odd bit of magick cast here and there, but why bother when you can defeat most enemies in half the time with simple physical attacks and the occasional cure spell?

Boss battles are notably poor, especially with the bigger foes; for the length of some fights, the restricting over-the-shoulder camera perspective shows two of our heroes chipping away at a pair of feet while someone off-screen is getting slowly beaten to death. Also, the inclusion of 'quickenings' – super special combo attacks that can annihilate some bosses in a single hit – is also extremely questionable.

And forgive me if this sounds a little picky, but is there actually a difference between wandering around an area fighting random battles and exploring a dungeon fighting battles against randomly placed enemies? Newcomers to the series (or console RPG gaming in general) often bemoan the random battle culture, and the developers have clearly listened to this voice, opting for a system which is aesthetically modern and highly simplified, but whose bare bones are essentially unchanged. While this could have led to them pleasing both sets of fans, I fear it has the potential to backfire and satisfy no-one.

Putting all the criticism in perspective, however, it would be wrong to suggest that FFXII is one to avoid. It is suitably epic, charmingly quirky, stuffed with content, polished to perfection and, for the first time in a long time, has some highly memorable characters and great dialogue. Even the noticeable flaws and abrupt ending to the story fail to prevent it from being a quality title, though it's far from the masterpiece that some will inevitably claim it is. In a similar vein to FFIX's role before FFX, FFXII is clearly acting as a stopgap before the star-spangled next-gen onslaught of FFXIII, but it's no doubt one that's sure to rake in the cash.

In a nutshell, FFXII is well worth a purchase. Well, unless you're on a tight budget, in which case buy Dragon Quest instead. 80

Games: Ubisoft - Tom Clancy's Spinter Cell: Double Agent

Ubisoft
Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell: Double Agent
[Stealth Action]







For a few years now, Ubisoft’s Splinter Cell franchise has carved out a nice little niche for itself on PS2 and Xbox, shifting just enough copies to warrant a yearly sequel without setting the world alight. The premise is always pretty simple, generally focusing on a bunch of guys who don’t like America getting hold of a weapon and threatening to use it, at which point the decidedly gruff Sam Fisher (complete with troubled past, no less) goes in, kills them all and saves the day. It’s not life-changing stuff by any means, but it knows what works and sticks to it faithfully.

What also works very well is the game’s stealth system -- constituting a light meter, noise meter, fantastic acrobatics and a tantalizing assortment of fictional gadgets -- which, having been upgraded with gradual tweaks in true videogame style, culminated in an excellent third installment known as Chaos Theory.

Though the expected improvements to the game mechanics did contribute to the game’s success, what truly separated Chaos Theory from its two fairly good predecessors was some fantastic level design. Promising variety around every turn, levels included a bank, a rooftop apartment, a Chinese countryside retreat and a naval bunker. As well as the exciting locales, the developers had evidently worked hard to ensure each mission would enable Fisher to utilize his full range of moves, resulting in fantastic options for the player. As well as the obvious shotgun-toting brute force route, an array of carefully positioned vents, pipes, rails and ledges, along with generous helpings of darkness, ensured there was always the option to do missions the proper, Sam Fisher way. A strict mission rating system also rewarded stealthy play, penalizing players for excess noise, kills and general clumsiness.

What a disappointment it is to find, then, that the fourth game in the series is a let down on almost all of these fronts. Feeling like a backward step in gameplay terms, Double Agent has some really dull, featureless levels (a warehouse, anyone?) that rarely allow our hero to exhibit his impressive athletic abilities. Not only that, but a lot less shadow and the removal of the mission rating system mean brute force is often the most worthwhile path through missions. In addition, the long load times mean slip-ups are punished severely, discouraging players from risking a stealthy takedown when they could opt for the more reliable machinegun.

The story is a marked improvement, however, told via a series of flashbacks and revealing Fisher’s recent involvement in an elaborate plot to infiltrate a terrorist organization. Only Fisher and his old pal Colonel Lambert were aware of the mission’s finer details, meaning that throughout the game’s levels Fisher is obliged to sabotage parts of the JBA’s plan and risk blowing his cover in order to please the suits back at HQ. This idea is implemented in the game with a simple trust meter that shifts position every time you complete (and thus consequently also fail) an objective for either side. In order for a smooth progression, you are required to keep the apparently mathematical ‘trust’ value in the middle of the bar -- upsetting one side too much could result in them asking you to complete a spontaneous sub-mission which, if not completed in time, results in failure.

While this system has the potential to be great, it hasn’t quite been implemented well enough. To give one example, during my first time through the game I managed to sink a tanker full of 3,000 passengers and let a city get nuked while still comfortably maintaining the trust of the good guys. Now I’m no diplomat, but surely a death toll in the tens of thousands can’t be considered a job well done?

That said, the various split paths in the game do warrant repeat plays and the stealth mechanics are grounded on a solid enough foundation to still make the game an enjoyable experience. With some more attention to detail in the environment s, a few more missions and a bit of tweaking to the trust system, Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell: Double Agent could have been one of the best games on PS2. As it is, it’s still good, though the aforementioned shortcomings mean Chaos Theory remains the best game in the series. 61

Games: Bohemia Interactive - Armed Assault

Bohmeia Interactive
Armed Assault
[Military Simulation]









When Codemasters opted not to publish Armed Assault - the follow-up to one of the best, most popular and most enduring PC games of all time - I should have known something was up. However, Operation Flashpoint was just so complete, so immersive and so perfect that I couldn't imagine what could possibly go wrong. After all, all they had to do was keep the finely-crafted battle dynamics and make it a bit shinier, right? Well, after a five and a half year wait, it genuinely saddens me to report that Marek Spanel and his team haven't even managed that.

When it wants to be, or more importantly, when it can be, Armed Assault is the best-looking game of all time. However, what is immediately striking on first playing this unofficial sequel is that the visual side of the game is not all there: it's less an engine, more a big pile of shiny nuts and bolts held together with string and paperclips. And, despite having been delayed for more than two years, the extent of the mess is disgraceful.

Every time the vast island map loads, for example, the objects form in front of your eyes, starting off as crude, colourless blocks before layers of texture are added. Five seconds later, just as you think the level is stable, changing your viewpoint results in exactly the same thing is happening all over again, Sahrani building itself piece by piece, as and when those pieces are needed. Not only does this lead to a fifteen second delay at the start of some missions, it completely destroys any potential sense of immersion during cutscenes when the camera pans gracefully over a sea of grey cubes.

As mentioned previously, however, this can be a stunning game when it works. It may be an unplayable slide show when the settings are above 'normal', but some of the visual effects are terrific. That said, on a 3Ghz computer with 1Gb of RAM and a GeForce 6800 GT, all three of which satisfy the recommended specifications, the only way I could experience a playable frame rate was with the quality setting somewhere between 'low' and 'very low', at times making the game look as bad as the 2001 original (and boy was that ugly). Scanning through the official forums it is clear that this is a common problem and, though I'm sure the code is being optimized as I speak, if playing a good-looking version of Armed Assault is out of the question then you have to question the point of such a radical upgrade.

Nevertheless, I still had every right to be reassured by the fact that Operation Flashpoint features, hands down, the best gameplay of anything I had played before or since. The freedom to do whatever the hell you wanted in the original game offered such a stunningly original sense of autonomy that is often promised but rarely delivered in video games. Despite relying heavily on scripted triggers, I can only recall a handful of occasions where a mission became impossible and had to be reloaded. With Armed Assault, on the other hand, almost everything is broken.

The vehicle AI is so bad, for instance, that expecting the computer to drive a hundred yards down a straight road is hopelessly optimistic. In one early mission, 'Dolores', the player is expected to plant explosive charges on a bridge, hide, and then blow the bridge in conjunction with two others in order to trap an enemy armoured convoy. However, not only does one truck get stuck behind a wall ninety percent of the time, forcing a restart, on occasion your commander will forget to blow his bridge, leaving you to wait helplessly as a full complement of T-72s proceeds to massacre the handful of American soldiers expected to fight them off.

Not only that, but the AI controlled ambush squad that is supposed to head off the remaining tanks contains no armoured units or anti-tank soldiers whatsoever, leaving the player to fight them off unassisted. As if that wasn't enough, the only artillery in the area - a large, unmanned AT cannon that none of the poorly-armed soldiers have decided to use, despite them facing a tank rush - is positioned too close to a sandbag such that any shots fired from it hit the barricade and immediately kill the gunner. And, even if you manage to hold off the six or seven tanks single-handedly and keep your squad alive, you are still given the order to retreat, receiving a radio message telling of the massacre that hasn't happened right in front of your eyes. I could go on but, in honour of the Bohemia Interactive mentality, why bother?

The story, described briefly above, is also an absolute catastrophe, not only featuring a completely preposterous premise but also having very little coherence, a frankly ridiculous twist and the distinct lack of any character background. You play as a nameless, faceless soldier, expertly trained as an infantryman, pilot, tank commander, saboteur and sniper, who never features in any cutscenes or back story. This contrasts markedly with the hugely memorable storyline in Operation Flashpoint, so memorable in fact that I even remember the nicknames of my former squad mates. There is no Armstrong, Fowley, Kozlowski, Gastovski or Berghof in sight, just a newsreader relaying events with cringe-inducing voice acting and the odd 'sergeant' offering his thought on proceedings.

The events, in case you were wondering, are equally ridiculous. Judging from its size and the number of houses, the combined population of Sahrani is roughly 1,000 people, yet the southern half manages to have its own monarchy, two airports and an oilfield, while the north, possessing its own airport, invades its neighbour with countless troops, hundreds of tanks and aircraft, under the command of someone who is never named, seen or heard. Why the US decides to intervene is a mystery, as is the fact that the player spends the first half of the game retreating from the apparent military might of North Sahrani. As if this wasn't bad enough, there's a side plot involving slave camps being set up around the island by an unknown enemy. Oh dear. At times it's almost impossible to believe these are the same people who bought us the epic, emotional and exciting journey all those years ago. Armed Assault's campaign, incidentally half the length of the one in Operation Flashpoint, is simply excruciating.

It's not that Armed Assault is so bad that makes reviewing it such a depressing experience. It's that, after nearly six years, this doesn't look, feel, play or act like a finished game. I guess we'll never know what Bohemia Interactive have been doing all this time, though judging by the sales figures of the original, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out; among all the champagne, schmoozing and celebration, they've actually forgotten to make a game. N/A

Film / Games / Music: Harry's Review of 2006

2006 was, as always with the arts, an interesting year.

In music there were highly-publicised releases from the likes of The Beatles, The Killers, Bob Dylan, Nas, Beyonce, Justin, Christina, My Chemical Romance and Tom Waits, as well as fervent championing of a number of lesser-known acts such as Belle & Sebastian, Liars, The Knife, Joanna Newsom, Ghostface, TV on the Radio (proving the old adage that one single does not a good album make) and more. We saw Hope of the States split up after disastrous sales of their sophomore album, Left, and the effective demise of The Futureheads as they too experienced second album difficulties - News & Tributes shifted a measly 32,000 copies and the band were subsequently dropped from their label, 679 Recordings.

Movie-wise, we witnessed "the end of Western civilisation as we know it" (Mark Kermode) as Gore Verbinski's bloated Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest became one of the highest grossing movies ever made, while a number of foreign language films broke through into the mainstream, most notably Requiem and Pan's Labyrinth. We had a new Bond (yay), Borat's debut (nay) and everyone's favourite slightly disturbing celebrity (no, not Michael Jackson) return in Mission Impossible: III (hmm). Just when you thought it wasn't possible to continue raping the cash cow that is 1970s horror movies, along came Jonathan Liebesman's horrific (in a bad way) prequel to the remake The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning. At least we had Saw 3, eh?

2006 brought a sad end to the decade-old era of gameplay with the arrival of next-gen tomfoolery; Gears of War scooping countless awards for being shiny, despite lacking original narrative, setting, characters or gameplay comes to mind. At least Monsieur Sea Bass Takatsuka finally perfected his world-beating footie franchise with the colossal Pro Evolution Soccer 6 (this time it can't get any better, it just can't damn it!) and we saw a slight return to story-based gaming on the PC with Dreamfall: The Longest Journey, Broken Sword: The Angel of Death and the welcome return of Sam & Max. Artsy gaming continued to suffer as the big names trumped the independent studios, culminating in the lamentable demise of Clover Studios, creators of the (apparently) masterful Okami. The Nintendo DS outfought the PSP, though as long as portable games remain laughably overpriced that fails to be of particular concern.

And, without further ado, here is my rundown of the best of this year's releases in music, movies and games.

Top 10 Singles:

01. The Spinto Band - "Oh Mandy"
02. The Wombats - "Moving to New York"
03. The Pipettes - "Pull Shapes"
04. CSS - "Let's Make Love and Listen to Death from Above"
05. Justice vs. Simian - "We Are Your Friends"
06. Christina Aguilera - "Ain't No Other Man"
07. Gnarls Barkley - "Crazy"
08. TV on the Radio - "Wolf Like Me"
09. Peter Bjorn & John - "Young Folks"
10. Belle & Sebastian - "Funny Little Frog"

Top 10 Album Tracks:

01. Belle & Sebastian - "Another Sunny Day"
02. Liars - "Let's Not Wrestle Mt. Heart Attack"
03. Squarepusher - "The Modern Bass Guitar"
04. Hope of the States - "This is A Question"
05. Clipse - Dirty Money
06. The Long Blondes - "Swallow Tattoo"
07. The Pipettes - "It Hurts to See You Dance So Well"
08. The Knife - "Silent Shout"
09. Thom Yorke - "Cymbal Rush"
10. Guillemots -"Sao Paulo"

Top 10 Albums:

01. Liars - Drum's Not Dead*
02. Joanna Newsom - Ys*
03. Guillemots - Through the Window Pane*
04. The Knife - Silent Shout
05. Thom Yorke - The Eraser
06. Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury
07. Squarepusher - Hello Everything
08. Ghostface - Fishscale
09. Amy Winehouse - Back to Black
10. Howling Bells - Howling Bells

Top 5 Movies:

01. Pan's Labyrinth (del Toro)*
02. Grbavica (Zbanic)
03. The Departed (Scorsese)
04. Inside Man (Lee)
05. Requiem (Schmid)

Top 5 Games:

01. Pro Evolution Soccer 6 (KCET)*
02. The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion (Bethesda)*
03. Dreamfall: The Longest Journey (Funcom)
04. Medieval 2: Total War (Sega)
05. Half-Life 2: Episode One (Valve)

* denotes 90+ rating

Games: Rockstar Vancouver - Canis Canem Edit

Rockstar Vancouver
Canis Canem Edit
[Third-Person Action]





Canis Canem Edit will do nothing to dispel the notion that Rockstar make good games. What it will do, however, is bring into question the company's ability to make good, original games. Although the first few hours of the game (which see serial delinquant Jimmy Hopkins tackling daily life at Bullworth Academy) are a blast to play, the game rapidly descends into standard GTA fare, with the player required to perform errands, conquer different groups and acquire safehouses in order to progress through the main story.

There are a lot of enjoyable things about Canis Canem Edit, such as its distinct sense of humour and engaging cast, the crazy assortment of weapons, the school environment, a strong story and a charming assortment of social cliques, yet the majority of the gameplay feels like a retread.

The control system, on screen displays, graphic design and even the pause menu are pretty much lifted from the Grand Theft Auto series, and the fact that the majority of the second half of the game takes place in a city, rather than the academy, doesn't help matters. Even though the game has prefects instead of police, soda cans instead of health packs and joke shops instead of gun shops, it operates in such a similar manner to GTA that it feels more like playing a mod than a brand new game.

Although the structure of life at Bullworth is an interesting aspect of the game - Jimmy must attend two lessons a day, avoid the curfew after dark and be in bed by two - it becomes an irritant when missions require Jimmy to visit the other side of town, especially given the speed of the clock. Of course there is the option to skip lessons and locate alternate areas to sleep, but doing so on a regular basis negates one of the most appealing and distinguishing aspects of the game.

Despite all its faults, it would be unfair to conclude that Canis Canem Edit is a bad game - far from it. It's just that with such an initially joyous and original setting, I expected a little more. 74

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

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

Games: Valve - Half-Life 2: Episode One

Valve
Half-Life 2: Episode One
[First-Person Shooter]





Chances are that if you play games you've played the original Half-Life and remember it as one of the greatest games of all time. The much hyped, much delayed Half-Life 2 continued Valve Software's impeccable reputation and now it has made artistic (and economic) sense for them to continue their series in episodic form. The first of these instalments, predictably named Half-Life 2: Episode One, attempts to continue the story established in its predecessor, and for the most part it is successful.

The story once again revolves around Gordon Freeman's attempts to thwart evil alien race the Combine and their totalitarian regime in the mysterious City 17, now in ruins following Gordon and sidekick Alyx's actions in the original. We begin our story with Alyx's popular robot buddy, Dog, rescuing Gordon from rubble outside the "citadel" - the Combine's base of operations - and the player is immediately reacquainted with Half-Life 2's main characters - the aforementioned Alyx and Dog, Alyx's father Eli Vance and crackpot scientist Professor Kleiner. It transpires that the only way for Gordon and Alyx to escape safely is to re-enter the citadel and prevent a meltdown by accessing the core, and so begins the third part of Gordon Freeman's adventures.

Understandably, Eli is not too happy with his daughter risking life and limb (despite the fact she has been battling for the city's resistance for a considerable time) and an emotionally charged debate between the two immediately highlights one of Episode One's graphical improvements over its predecessor - that of improved facial expressions in dialogue between characters. The two wince and gesture in surprising detail and it is obvious that Valve are keen to enhance their Source engine at every available opportunity. Other graphical improvements apparently include a higher pixel count for the character's faces to accompany the new expressions, improved lighting in dark spaces and greater use of HDR (High Dynamic Range) lighting hinted at in the Lost Coast demo. While none are as immediately obvious as the detailed expressions, it is clear that the Source engine is becoming more impressive with each release from Valve, and though not quite on par with Bethesda's recent efforts in Oblivion, it is clear than the plan is to enhance the engine gradually in order to avoid programming a new one from scratch, as that is what caused much of the delay with Half-Life 2's release in 2004.

The action may initially take place in the spiralling citadel but Alyx and Gordon also visit spooky underground locations submerged in darkness and the battered streets of City 17, helping to ensure the player never becomes bored with a specific location. I was initially disappointed with the return to what I felt was Half-Life 2's weakest section, however there are some interesting puzzles waiting to be tackled with the souped-up gravity gun, even if the action isn't in the least bit challenging with such a powerful weapon and the generous placement of suit chargers.

The underground section is a different matter, however, and offers perhaps the best action in the series since the unforgettable "Blast Pit" and "Questionable Ethics" chapters in 1998's Half-Life. Alyx often stays behind as Gordon seeks a way to restore power to the area in question, before the two are assaulted from all sides by a combination of zombies, ant lions, head crabs and the new "zombines" (faster and stronger zombies created when a Combine soldier is possessed by a head crab). Interestingly, the player goes through much of this section of the game without a firearm or ammo, and is required to light up enemies with the flashlight for Alyx to take down with her pistol. What could easily have become a frustratingly difficult and cumbersome section of Episode One is made hugely enjoyable by Alyx's impressive combat skills and the mechanism's flawless execution. Crucially, while this section is by no means easy, it is fair.

The final section of the game follows Alyx, Gordon and legendary security guard Barney Calhoun as the trio attempt to evacuate the remaining residents of City 17. Featuring thrilling urban squad combat and a particularly memorable battle with a Combine gunship, the final third of Episode One is certainly up to standard and continues the electric pace established by the underground chapter. While the extremely basic squad mechanics of Half-Life 2 are still in place, it is unreasonable to expect Valve to live up to games such as Freedom Fighters in this regard as it is such as minor section of a much bigger game. Gordon's resistance buddies can occasionally find themselves in the way, especially in tight corridors, and seem to draw little if any fire away from the player. Nevertheless, they fire accurately and provide the player with invaluable support (by way of ammo and med kits) in dense areas of Combine fortification.

The player spends much of the game in the company of Alyx, however this potentially disastrous game mechanic that all-too-often fails in other titles and becomes a chore rather than a pleasure is executed to perfection. Alyx rarely tells Gordon to get a move on and allows the game to played at the desired pace of the player. She cracks jokes and often exhibits dread, excitement and relief, giving her a real air of humanity, and thankfully stays well out of the way during puzzle sections. It remains to be seen whether this would work during a full-length game (according to Valve, Episode One's average completion time is a little over four hours), however Alyx acts as effective and, crucially, welcome support throughout the game.

Aside from the expected shortness of the game and the basic squad mechanics, it is a genuine challenge to find fault with Episode One. Granted, there are no new weapons, only a single new enemy and everything looks pretty much the same, but then what did you expect? One could argue that the citadel section is underwhelming and superseded by the later sections, yet to me this only highlights the quality of the underground and city areas rather than suggesting the game's opening hour is below par. As with the Lost Coast demo, commentary from the developers is available to explain various aspects of the game and comes highly recommended. Valve are clearly a company that thrives on its fans, and the way they claim to have tweaked the balance of gameplay as a result of playtesters' feedback is palpable. In fact, Valve admit to having removed chunks of Episode One because of a negative reaction from players; if only all developers applied this level of scrutiny we would have considerably better gaming experiences on offer. Imagine, for example, if Hideo Kojima had removed the pointless cut scenes of pseudo-philosophical bullshit from the end of Metal Gear Solid 2. Perhaps it is indicative of the believability of the Half-Life universe that it requires so little explanation.

Overall, Half-Life 2: Episode One delivers enjoyable co-operative gameplay, hugely entertaining AI battles, challenging puzzles and a few scares along the way. The teaser trailer for Episode Two, a reward for completion, further highlights how Valve are reshaping the landscape of first-person shooters. While the likes of Prey are doing exactly what the original Half-Life did nearly eight years ago, Valve are one of a handful of developers innovating rather than imitating, and Half-Life 2: Episode One, in almost all respects, could not be better proof of that. It's just over before you know it. 83