This is the second part of a two-part series. Read “Part 1: Discovery”

I started thinking about writing full length reviews of video games in late 2001. I was still at University. I was going to make a website and came up with some generic name I thought was edgy and reflective of what I wanted to accomplish. It was going to cover more than video games. I had some things to say about popular culture.

After talking to some friends at school about my vision, there was some interest in this collaborative effort. There was already a zine floating around our faculty, but it was horrible. It was a soapbox for people frustrated with school and mostly contained their annoyingly priveleged views on an “oppressive” society. Instead of being provocative or insightful it was lampooning popular culture with pedestrian observations and half-baked philosophy. I could do better.

Of course, when you rely on friends to produce something for free, it doesn’t happen unless you get on their case about it. And I wanted to keep my friends. Plus, the whole “trying to graduate from University with a degree” thing. The project died on the vine, and I gave up the dream. For the time being, anyway.

I graduated from school the next spring, and started playing video games while I looked for work. My comptuer was getting old, and at this point the most it could muster was Unreal Tournament and Civilization III. I read the issues of PC Gamer that were mailed to me to keep up with the industry and the hobby I loved. I hung out on the internet a lot, and read too many terrible reviews that people actually got paid to write. My head started filling with ideas again. I could do better.

I started thinking about another website. Something that would capture my love of video games and provide an outlet for my brand of scathing commentary. I would call it “Tales of a Scorched Earth”, because I am an insufferable Smashing Pumpkins fan. I would adopt the handle of “Gatmog”, because it sounded cool and it provided the mystery any good internet handle should have^[1].

During this time, I started playing and thinking about video games as if it were research. I built a new desktop PC after I got a job and some money. I had a new purpose: I would record my thoughts on video games, write some reviews and share them with others. The availability and ease of use of self-publishing tools made this easier than I expected. I thought I would be doing something different than the typical weblog, and I used that as inspiration.

I wrote a lot of reviews and embarrassing posts during that time^[2]. I published most of them. It was a start.

Medal of Honor: Allied Assault (2002)

When Medal of Honor: Allied Assault was released, it recieved endless praise from the entire video game industry. The word that reviewers liked to throw around was “cinematic.” The movie reviewers liked to reference was Saving Private Ryan. Which was completely natural, seeing as how Spielberg himself had something to do with the game. But this was the start of a recurring problem with video games.

With the success of the Medal of Honor franchise, everyone wanted to tap into this new sub-genre. We started to see a lot more games use World War II as a setting. And the people that loved every single one of them would soon turn on them as fickle audiences often do. And not because the setting had nothing new to offer (Brothers in Arms proved that^[3]), but because it was simply a skin designers would stretch over the same tired FPS formula. Will World War II games ever be fashionable again? Will they ever explore anything deeper than gun-toting heroics? Maybe we’ll see a bunch of games about Iraq in 40 years that leave out all the bad parts, too.

I didn’t actually get to play Allied Assault until later in the year, when I upgraded my desktop. In hindsight, this was fortunate, as everyone was over the initial hype and playing Battlefield 1942. I played the Omaha Beach landing and took part in what everyone called “the most intense experience you will ever encounter in video games.” At the time, I agreed with these hyperbolic reviews. And I still do, mostly. It is intense. It is absorbing.

But is it accurate? And, even though we already know the answer to that, is it right to give these games praise for offering a sterilized simulation rather than realism?

The World War II genre is simply a manifestation of the gaming industry’s obsession with “cinematic presentation.” Big budgets and bigger expectations encourage developers to create the equivalent of Hollywood’s summer blockbusters, in the hopes that this will somehow contribute to the validation of the medium.

However, by doing this you have now have reviewers who base their opinions on how games reference the “source material”, which are movies, and are themselves not entirely genuine. No one who reviews one of these games understands what happened out there on the battlefield. You can’t expect a veteran to play this and give their solemn nod of approval^[4]. They fought so we wouldn’t have to. Why do we insist on reliving these horrible events? Why do we call it a game?

Allied Assault got me interested in the history behind the events of these games. I started reading about World War II, and the famous battles and operations summarized and retold by its various missions. I wanted to know what it was really like. I read the first hand accounts of Allied soldiers who were just kids thrust into the front lines and expected to carry the weight of the free world on their shoulders.

In Allied Assault I had autosaves and quick reloads when I died. After reading some of these books, I found the whole concept disturbing. At this point, I wanted to study these games. I wanted to record and categorize the effect of this genre on people’s impressions of World War II, and war in general. I wanted to prove how out of touch our generation was, and how these events are being perverted by an industry.

And yet with all that introspection, I was ensnared just like everyone else the following year by Call of Duty^[5], designed by key members of the 2015 team who left EA to create Infinity Ward. This was a game I could get behind. You weren’t Rambo, you had buddies standing around with you joining the fight for freedom. See how much personality they had? See how everyone reacted when they died?

I wouldn’t articulate these feelings for another few years, in an article I wrote for The Cultural Gutter^[6]. I detached myself from the spectacle of it all. I thought about those 20 minutes spent in 2002 trying to beat the Omaha Beach mission in Allied Assault, and how I was annoyed at the number of attempts it took me to complete. Indirectly, these games still had a lot to teach me.

Rise of Nations (2003)

I played Civilization II along with everyone else in University. I stayed up way too late for “one more turn”. I tried out Alpha Centauri after Sid Meier left Microprose to form Firaxis in 1996. I felt that Civilization III was a richer game than its predecessor and probably the best in the series, even though the critical reception for Civilization IV has long since overshadowed it. When I heard that Brian Reynolds was leaving Firaxis to form Big Huge Games and was planning to make a real-time Civilization, I was a little shocked. Would this be a travesty or the breakthrough crossover that everyone had been waiting for?

I got Rise of Nations the week it was released. I played it for at least three months straight. I introduced it to friends and acquaintances that had never played Civilization, and whose experience with Real Time Strategy was the brute force reactive tactics of StarCraft and Command & Conquer. I watched as they succumbed to the spellbinding combination of civilization building and front-line battles. Tales of a Scorched Earth was almost ready and this would be the first review I would write.

My review for Rise of Nations became an obsession. I was struggling with the review style I would use on my website, as I wanted to avoid the type of product summaries that everyone else slavishly followed. I had to pick apart this game and figure out what made it work so well. I wanted to trace its influences back through video game history, and put words to Reynolds’ brilliance in how he selected the best aspects of these influences and combined them into a satisfying whole. As I struggled to find my voice, I also tried to develop my own rubric for reviewing video games with words and not numbers. While I was familiar with the criticisms surrounding either approach, I just wanted to write.

I never did publish that review; instead, smitten with the recent purchase of a Game Boy Advance I finished and published my review of Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow. A more simplified effort, and what I thought was the safer bet. I didn’t know what audience I would acquire, and I didn’t have confidence enough in my detailed analysis of Rise of Nations to think anyone would find it worth reading. Going back to read the Castlevania review is disappointing. I could have set the tone for this website a lot earlier.

Rise of Nations is stilll one of my favorite games. But it also remains one of the most important in the development of this website.

Metroid Prime (2002, played in 2003)

One of my friends got an XBox and Halo: Combat Evolved the day they were released. I was still in University. Naturally, I had to see for myself what everyone was getting excited about. Microsoft entering the console market? Preposterous!

Halo was a first person shooter, designed to be played with a gamepad. As an overzealous PC gamer^[7], I looked upon this game as an abomination. How could anyone get used to this? Nudging an analog stick provided nowhere near the same responsiveness or precision as a mouse. There had been numerous attempts prior to the XBox to bring FPS to game consoles, and this effort would be no different. I’d give it a try, just to say that I played it. I made it a third of the way through the co-op campaign in two sittings. You know, to humor him.

A few years later, Halo would be identified as not only the XBox’s “killer app”, but the game that made consoles a viable destination for FPS. With the introduction of XBox Live, people were playing Halo 2 online like I was playing Unreal Tournment a few years prior. This was it. The end was coming.

I refused to legitimize this shift in attitudes towards console gaming, even in light of what I called “PC Defectors”: developers and gamers who were growing tired of the PC as a platform, and moved over to the XBox for a more streamlined and hassle-free experience.

Back in late 2003, the Gamecube was subjected to a massive drop in price by Nintendo. It clearly couldn’t compete with the PlayStation 2’s stranglehold on the market, or the unexpected rise in popularity of the XBox. The Gamecube had a limited selection of 1st party titles, but no “killer app” that would sell consoles the way the Grand Theft Auto and Halo series did for the PS2 and XBox. At this cheaper price, Nintendo would settle for being someone’s second or third game console. This is how I got in.

I had heard about The Legend of Zelda: The Windwaker, Metroid Prime and Super Mario Sunshine. I knew they were good games, and reason enough to own a Gamecube. However I found myself connecting the most to F-Zero GX at the time, because I had so many great memories surrounding the SNES version. For $150, how could I go wrong?

Well, I was wrong. About the title I bought the console for, anyway.

Metroid Prime caused an uproar among fans of the series. Like everyone else I was astonished at how such an iconic side-scrolling action game could be transformed into a first-person shooter.

Metroid Prime was the game that proved me wrong about FPS on a console^[8]. Retro Studios made a PC gamer feel right at home with the Gamecube controller, creating an accessible blend of action and adventure in a vibrant new environment, while still retaining everything I enjoyed about the old Metroid games (even the backtracking!). The combat may have been made easier with the lock-on feature, but the controls were forgiving enough to allow me to get comfortable with the idea of using a gamepad to move and jump and shoot instead of the trial-by-fire approach to Halo’s brand of action. Metroid Prime may not have been a true run-and-gun FPS, but it allowed me to get comfortable with the concept. There was nothing to fear about FPS on a console.

While those sentiments were sincere, I still remained faithful to the PC. My aversion to console gaming wouldn’t be dispelled until much later.

Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines (2004)

Like everyone else, I bought Half Life 2 on the day of release. I can’t say my excitement was of Diablo II-proportions, but it was a day that would cement Half Life into the video game collective conciousness, after attracting a cult following since the original’s release. It would also mark the launch of Steam, which would bring Valve’s authentication servers to their knees. Half Life 2 redefined acceptable linearity in FPS by creating a compelling narrative driven by the player^[9]. I fully acknowledge it as one of the greatest games ever made.

Unfortunately, Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines had to compete with the blockbuster release of Half Life 2. Being the first game to use the Source engine, it was rushed to coincide with Half Life 2’s launch, and it showed. The textures were plain and uninspiring, the facial animations stiff and inhuman, and there were numerous game-crippling bugs. Players and reviewers thought this was reason enough to overlook the game. There was Counter Strike: Source to be played, after all.

This would be devastating to the sales and critical reception of the game. It was Troika’s last effort before shutting down in February 2005. It was also their greatest achievement.

As soon as I finished Bloodlines, I wanted to play it again. This was a game that captured everything I loved about the tabletop RPG, and about computer RPGs in general. It was an example of what these games should be striving for. The voice acting was superb, and the dialog felt completely natural and engaging – something I wouldn’t encounter again until I played Mass Effect. I loved Bloodlines unconditionally, and as a result it changed the way I thought about video games. If a game is deeply flawed, yet so perfectly displays an aspect that defines the genre, it should still be recognized. Maybe I had too much of a personal investment in this game, but I made a point of advocating it to whoever I talked to. I even called it the best game of 2004 when everyone else was handing those accolades to Half-Life 2^[10]

In early 2005, I got an email from someone who read my review of Bloodlines. Up until then I had received a few emails since starting the website from random visitors with mostly disposable praise or criticism. The useful feedback usually came from the comments section after each post. I appreciated every single one.

This email, though. It was from someone who had been turned off of Bloodlines by all of the negative press surrounding it upon release. He saw no reason to pursue it.

That is, until he read my review.

At that point this person, whoever they were, completely validated my existence. I wielded the power to influence people to play good games; I wasn’t just screaming into the void with opinions no one cared about. This is the most valuable piece of feedback I have ever received in the entire life of Tales of a Scorched Earth, and I will never forget it.

After that I knew my purpose. I would not be content to simply play video games and write up a review. I wanted to critique them. I wanted to contextualize them in our culture, and provide more than just references to other games. I wanted to cut through the hype and evaluate a game on its own merits, not popular opinion. I wanted people to recognize the flawed ones that deserved better.

Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines is the reason this website still exists.

Gears of War (2006, played in 2008)

When the ad campaign started for Gears of War, I was filled with seething rage. My allegiance to PC gaming was as strong as it had ever been, and seeing Epic use their Unreal Engine to create what appeared to be a third person shooter in some darkened and grunge-layered science fiction setting felt like a betrayal of the highest order. These were the same guys that brought us the brightly colored and meticulously balanced Unreal Tournament 2004. What started with Halo would soon completely reshape the landscape of first person shooters and multiplayer gaming on the console. It was a sobering revelation, and I despised Gears for perpetuating this trend.

Time passes, people have children, and they tend to unclench a little. Maybe that’s all I needed.

In the summer of 2008, I bought a laptop to replace my desktop. In hindsight this may have forced my hand in the decision to purchase an XBox 360. But I’ll get to that.

I got Gears of War for my PC, because I wanted to try it out for myself. I already had a XBox 360 controller from my time with Assassin’s Creed, and I used the HDMI-out to plug my laptop into the TV. It was an instant XBox 360!

I played through most of the campaign. Visually, the game was a lot more detailed than what I originally gave it credit for. The duck and cover, shoot and run mechanics flowed naturally, and I was able to get a grip on the control scheme for the most part. But something didn’t sit right. I tried with the mouse and keyboard, but it felt sluggish and unresponsive. I didn’t like the story, or the neverending stream of gender stereotypes and macho overcompensation coming from my television. I gave up on Gears of War. I moved on to something else.

In November 2008, I played Horde mode in Gears of War 2^[11]. It taught me to use the 360’s controller for shooters, and revealed an “endless mode” with an intensity of play that stripped the game down to its basic elements. I loved what I was experiencing.

I went back to Gears of War on my PC and finished it. I then started to write one of the longest, most positive reviews I have ever written at Tales of a Scorched Earth^[12]. Playing the game long after it was released I could ignore the press, and write what I truly felt about the game. Writing the Gears of War review was the most fun I’ve had since starting Tales of a Scorched Earth.

So I bought an XBox 360. I had to be able to play Gears of War 2, you see.

I was wrong about Gears of War. It is a prime example of the exploration of video games’ basic tenet: kill or be killed. It is Space Invaders with a Lancer, and yet it refines a mechanic for FPS and third person shooters that would be shamelessly copied by the video games that followed it.

Gears of War taught me to slough off platform evangelism. If there is a good game somewhere, I should play it. I dispensed with any rhetoric I had written in the past^[13]. I would focus on the games themselves, not get caught up in the fanboy politics that accompany them. I revisited a pact I made with myself shortly after starting this website: I will write here until I have nothing more to say about video games.

And since expanding my horizons with the XBox 360, I have a lot to say about video games.

When I first got my Gamecube, F-Zero GX was the first game I “reviewed” for the platform. I say that with a smile on my face because in hindisight I completely missed the fucking point of the game. Focusing on things like “story mode” and getting pissy over it being hard to unlock more vehicles (a trend that has sadly continued in every racer I’ve played since) is really not important. I would happily play the game with the default four racers, the ones that were introduced in the original F-Zero. It wouldn’t make a difference. Because F-Zero GX is not about pulling stunts or rewinding time or launching red shells or realistic physics. It is about winning a race. Crossing the finish line is the only goal that could ever matter as the landscape blasts past you at 1200 km/h with the siren blazing that you need repairs badly.

F-Zero GX is about going fast at all costs. It is a racing game in its purest, most concentrated form. And that’s why I still love it.

“You are Dead,” Resident Evil 4 tells me as my avatar gets fried for the fourth time by the trap with erratically moving laser beams. It’s this type of hamfisted advice that seems to be the undercurrent of the entire experience. The game isn’t content to set up a rustic, chilling atmosphere for you to cautiously explore, and instead offers you many, many reasons on why you should be killing the things on screen, as if the player couldn’t figure it out for themselves. If Michael Bay and Jerry Bruckheimer had made a game, I’m pretty sure this is how it would turn out. Only with less plot.

I’ve been trying to figure out Resident Evil 4’s appeal for a year. I even played through it twice, thinking my first impressions may have been too harsh. They weren’t, and for one very big reason: the story doesn’t make any god damned sense. A game that is considered part of the Survival Horror genre has to rely on two, very important things: an immersive, believable atmosphere, and a good story to support this atmosphere as well as give purpose to the action. Forget the clunky controls and rail-shooter pacing, it should be about getting to the point where you feared for your virtual life.

I remember being scared out of my wits after a few hours with Resident Evil 2 on a friend’s Playstation, my first taste of survival horror. “This,” he told me as he flicked the lights off, “is the future of interactive fiction.” The premise was simple enough: survive a city full of zombies intent on eating your brains. He had recently picked up a dual-shock controller, and was eager to try it out, bragging that I would be jumping out of my seat. And I did a few times, after moments that years later would be dubbed as “cheap tricks” in the genre. I’m referring of course to the many times zombies break through a window you’ve just passed or bust through a wall in the hallway you’re walking down. Resident Evil 4 doesn’t have any of these typical scares, placing emphasis on its convoluted story to drive the action forward instead of relying on the player’s basest fears and the game’s atmosphere to keep them playing.

Resident Evil 4 puts you in control of Leon Kennedy, who has been charged with rescuing the kidnapped daughter of the President of the United States. A newly recruited secret agent working directly for the President, Leon has come a long way since fending off zombies as a member of the Raccoon City P.D. in Resident Evil 2. A lead says that the President’s daughter is being held in a rural village somewhere in Spain; the game begins by you being dropped off at this creepy, remote enclave. And then things get ugly. After a close call with one of the locals, Leon is faced with a town that has apparently been turned into zombies. Leon begins his quest to save the President’s daughter, and hopefully figure out what has become of this hapless town.

It was a suitable introduction, and one that had me interested enough to keep playing. The controls were serviceable at first; to be honest I didn’t even really notice their limitations until I had gone past the stage of “hmm?.this game is interesting” into full on, stabbing-myself-in-the-groin frustration at the number of lame plot contrivances. You see, as with many Japanese-developed games, the plots tend to get convoluted extremely fast. Take any JRPG for example – it’s the same story every time, except with more characters with different colored hair. Of course I’m making mass generalizations here, but the story can often be overlooked if the gameplay is compelling enough. In the case of Resident Evil 4, both contributed to the game’s lack of appeal for me. The player shouldn’t be trying to figure out a story, they should be busy getting scared. In the case of horror, less is more! The player’s imagination should be running wild.

The action was just starting to move along when the game introduces Luis, a former police officer from Madrid. I had no idea why he was captured and left alive. He also disappears a lot during the game, but often leaves you handy notes for more plot exposition. Then this giant bearded man who looks uncannily similar to Rasputin, attempts to violate you with his mutant phallus. And well, then there’s the pasty faced midget dressed like Napoleon who lets you wander around his castle while you fend off robed zombies, who I can only assume were formerly the town’s inhabitants. Then you actually rescue Ashley, and have to protect her through some extremely frustrating sequences that bring those annoying controls to the forefront. But of course there’s two discs, so Ashley gets nabbed again and you have to go after her. And it turns out Jack Krauser isn’t dead, and you have to fight him off – wait, did I mention Leon gets injected with the zombie plague, which might actually be the contributing factor to the town’s infestation? Ah, good old Luis – he shows up to give a substance that will slow the poison, only to die in dramatic fashion. Wait – just who is controlling things behind the scenes here? It’s the evil Lord Saddler, high priest of the zombie-people, who turns into a giant spider-like creature and can can only be defeated with a well-placed rocket. After a thoroughly heroic rescue scene and awkward romantic advances from young Ashley, the game is done. Scary, indeed!

I should probably get the obvious out of the way: I was absolutely amazed at the graphical fidelity of this game. I had seen the screenshots, but had no idea that actually playing the game would be as beautifully rendered. At first, I was rolling my eyes at the colours in use to display the enviroment. I’m sure it’s entirely possible to create a convincingly creepy atmosphere without resorting to drab shades of brown and grey, but that’s another subject entirely and something level designers need to address eventually, because I know I’ll never stop mentioning it. Then I got to the graveyard and it started raining. Suitably moody; the rain makes everything depressing. Someone was paying attention in English lit! But nothing could have prepared me for the torches.

There’s a part in the game where you need to travel through a mysterious looking cave under a waterfall. Once you figure out how to get inside, a mob of zombies stand between you and your objective. The flickering of the fire, and the shadows playing on their faces quickly convinced me of the truth. The Gamecube is the most underused platform of all time.

The gameworld is seamless, with a smoothness equalled only by Metroid Prime. The only load times I experienced were when I continued from a save point, or restarted after dying. Which, by the way, happened far less than I expected. Both the overall length of the game and the normal difficulty level have been criticized. It seemed like the designers wanted you to spend less time in the game, and more time watching the story unfold. Perhaps in the survival horror genre this is a viable means to get a player to experience the game, because it’s certainly easier to control the pacing. However, the important question to ask yourself during Resident Evil 4 is: are you playing a game or are you watching one? This is something I never came to terms with amongst the favorable reviews.

Cinematic is a word many like to throw around, myself included, when describing a game. But in all honesty, that’s all I can come up with when thinking about Resident Evil 4’s presentation. It’s established like a movie, the action happens like a movie, and you’re pretty much on a set path for the entire game. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because I don’t think the intention of the game is to allow you to roam free through this creepy European village. I could have lived with that, because as far as I was concerned this was survival horror. Then I played through my first interactive cutscene – a foolish decision to make it seem like you’re still playing the game.

“Interactive cutscene” is a contradiction in terms. The gameplay mechanic during one of these cutscenes is not the same as when you’re in the game world. Instead, each scene begins with a brief clip of what’s happening: for example, a boulder has just been pushed down a hill and is coming after you. A button combination flashes on screen, upon which you must immediately start tapping away lest you be flattened/gutted/etc. This wouldn’t be so bad if the button combination stayed the same between attempts. It doesn’t. This same approach is used during boss battles. The controls will change partway through a fight – within the span of a few seconds you can go from shooting your gun to bashing “A” to wiggle free from some overbearing supervillain’s grip.

There’s a mysterious shopkeeper that keeps showing up, too. There is no explanation offered for why he is wandering around the village, or castle, or how he even knows where you are. Or why he hasn’t been infected by the zombie plague (though his arsenal might have something to do with it). The weapon upgrade options were a great excuse to spend money, but completely unnecessary if you look what was intended by the game. Why not just sell more powerful weapons? I was more annoyed that I couldn’t strafe while firing, or reload my weapons while moving – it certainly leaves you open for more punishment. I’ve read a lot of positive things about the game’s controls, but I still don’t see it – the very act of turning around takes ages, and is almost pointless when surrounded as it eats up valuable time that can be spent shooting. And the zombies don’t drop as much ammo as I’d have liked, though it’s an improvement over past installments of the series.

A word about zombies: as our culture of instant gratification walks us down the path of Instant Macaroni and Cheese, many people complained that the fast running zombies of 28 Days Later and the remake of Dawn of the Dead were a blasphemy upon the rich traditions developed by Romero’s classic movies. I’d definitely agree, as it seems strange that a lumbering, mindless skinbag can suddenly take off in a run to chase after people. The scary thing about zombies was the constant threat of inevitability; not that they would chase after you. As their numbers increased, the possibility of you being infected grows. Your allies dwindle, and it becomes a matter of accepting your fate.

In Resident Evil 4, the zombies are fairly unpredictable. I’m not saying there’s AI or anything – there were numerous times where I could wander around zombie mobs without being noticed – but when they do spot you, they begin their slow plodding to your position, establish you as a threat and then…run? Yes, they run towards you, axe or whatever bladed weapon was strapped to their back in hand, to hack you to bits. But then they stop, and just continue to shamble around, occasionally lunging for your neck when you least expect it. This was the most frightening part of the game. Sometimes I would run out of ammo, and no matter how quick I could reload my weapon the swarm would still get up again, in mockery of the bullets I had just embedded in their corrupted flesh. Aside from the graphics, the other thing this game does extremely well is the level of gore. From the parasites that erupt from the infected to watching Leon getting his head chainsawed off, there’s no shortage of blood on screen. But the violence soon became comedic, exarcerbated by the absurd story. When the fear you’re supposed to be feeling becomes obvious, it’s less engaging. A classic example of this is the much maligned Doom 3.

In an effort to extend the game’s life, once you’ve finished the main game an additional adventure is unlocked: Assignment Ada. This vignette puts you in control of the title character, exploring a part of the game from her perspective. Though it introduces a few new areas with new objectives, you’ve mostly already played through them as Leon. I suppose the intent behind this is to explain why Ada seemed to appear whenever Leon needed assistance, but I can’t say I was convinced. If replay value is to be considered, the “Mercenaries” arcade mode challenges you to kill as many zombies in a set time, which in turn unlocks new weapons and characters within this game mode. This would have been great as multiplayer; as it stands it feels like a time waster. You’re probably better off replaying the game with the unlimited rocket launcher. The explosions are pretty.

I usually dismiss the relevance of numerical ratings out of habit, but it’s pretty hard to ignore Resident Evil 4’s near perfect average on Metacritic and Gamerankings. Whether it deserves such a high rating is something I struggled with even during my first hours of play. To say that this improves on the Resident Evil series in every way is one thing, but to insinuate that this is one of the greatest games to ever grace my television is pushing the envelope. It’s good in the sense that I gained some enjoyment from playing it, but I will never play it again. The action was plodding at times, and felt as if it would be just as easy to toss the game into my DVD player and press “play” to watch the Resident Evil 4 movie. At least then I could fast forward through the “save Ashley” missions. In terms of action games, this is certainly a slickly produced endeavour, and in the collective minds of gamers will probably end up as the finest game in the Resident Evil series. But I’m not going to delude myself into thinking that this is a game worthy of a near-perfect rating; there are too many things wrong with it that in any other game would garner only moderate reviews (and a lot more criticism). At times extremely visceral and at others scraping the deepest pits of tired cliché, Resident Evil 4 was monumentally disappointing.

The initial assessment of Legends’ combat is still correct: aside from removing a group of adversaries from around a teammate with your mutant power, the game requires fists to be flying through the air at all times. Though where I’m beginning to see the game’s long lasting appeal is in the development of the roster of characters – there really is a time and place for all of them. Levelling characters and selecting new abilities becomes a group activity, and not nearly as invasive as I would have thought. Though despite my Iceman and Juan’s Storm being elemental magic users, we always found ourselves on the front lines taking bullets for Wolverine and Cyclops. Yes, Wolverine, with the healing factor. Cyclops, for some reason, found pleasure in picking up explosive cannisters and throwing them into groups of people (often our own ranks). This is not how you win the game.

Even with four players, the game gets extremely difficult, and will almost always punish you for trying to plow through its lengthy missions. I may have been a bit harsh in saying that there’s no strategy; on the contrary, Legends makes you take the same approach as you would in games like Diablo or RTS titles. Lead smaller, manageable groups of the enemy into a controllable environment where they can be dealt with efficiently. The lack of healing potions was a scenario that was completely avoidable; we just couldn’t seem to convince someone that the “heal” button need only be pressed once to deliver a potion.

Although I had already experienced multiplay during my review, it was only with two players, which required the control of two characters per player. With everyone in control of their own character, it convinced me of two things: firstly, that X-Men Legends is actually a very well rounded multiplayer experience, and secondly, it shared more in common with Konami’s X-Men arcade game than I first realized.

I doubt that Raven used Konami’s X-Men as a stencil, but I find it odd that the first boss that you encounter in both games is Pyro. Furthermore, in Legends there is a throwback to 70s era X-Men in a flashback mission where they do battle with Sentinels on the streets of New York, which is almost word for word the first level of the arcade game. It brought back a lot of fond memories of sitting on a wobbly stool in Canada’s Wonderland’s Crystal Palace, playing through the game with complete strangers and getting into arguments over who got to be Wolverine. Reminiscing about days spent in arcades suppressed by a heavy fog of B.O. was enough to make me want to relive past glories with MAME. Though I quickly came to the conclusion that my opinion of the X-Men arcade game in hindsight was grossly optimistic.

I always found the introduction to the game to be quite short. Abrupt, even, when compared to the multi-layered and overly complicated backstories you might see in a 2D fighter at the time. Facing Magneto was clearly your ultimate goal, but why did he have an army of Sentinels at his disposal? Weren’t they built to eliminate mutantkind, of which Magneto was clearly a member? The selection of playable mutants was also puzzling. Though the four player version of the arcade game was more common, the six player version had Wolverine, Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Storm, and Dazzler as playable characters. Dazzler? Clearly a product of the 70s, Dazzler’s “power” is to turn sound into light energy. The game designers were evidently unfamiliar with the comic books. Or more accurately, completely out of touch with what fans wanted to see in an X-Men game.

The X-Men arcade game attempted to recreate the beat ‘em up action of Final Fight and Captain Commando, but the enemies in the game were boring and repetitive. Indeed, it was difficult, but you didn’t get to fight things that weren’t robots until you got to the Savage Land where you fought a bunch of Lizard look-alikes and robots. The special abilities, though brutally efficient in clearing the screen, were equally trite. Wolverine probably had the best power, even though it didn’t make any sense. Cyclops was limited to exploding, which I can only assume was an uncontrolled optical blast. Wolverine had his claws to fight with, but everyone else was limited to punching. I understand that technology was probably a factor (this was, after all, 1992) but it seems to me Konami’s interpretation of a multiplayer X-Men adventure was simply lazy and uncreative. Compared against this low-fi predecessor, Legends seems a much more palatable recreation of Marvel’s superhero team.

sitting still was never enough

I’m not really a fan of the series, but when I’ve read numerous reviews (and received personal recommendations) that wax poetic about this game’s quality, eventually I have to give in. Yes, the game is indeed beautiful, and probably the best looking game I’ve seen on a console next to the Metroid Prime series and Crystal Chronicles. However, judgement of this game seems to be obsessively focused on its previous incarnations, and not other games in its genre. Am I missing something? If the fact that this is a Resident Evil game was removed from the equation, would it still be considered good?

When I hear the words “survival horror”, I assume an implicit agreement between the player and the developer. I should be scared. I concede that the game did a great job of setting the mood. A creepy, dilapidated remote village populated by grizzled looking farmers deftly establishes the tone. I freaked out the first time I saw a zombie shambling towards me even after I had just blown his head clean off. But the story, as detailed as it may be, just doesn’t seem that compelling to warrant an expedient playthrough of the remainder of the game. I feel like a tourist. Resident Evil 4 feels like Metal Gear Solid. Lots of story, action on rails. I have no control. Why should I be scared?

Maybe it was the annoying “interactive cutscenes” (an oxymoron if there ever was one) that switched up button combinations between tries, or the completely annoying controls that are almost useless during boss battles.

For me, I think what finally sealed Resident Evil 4’s fate was babysitting the president’s daughter. She can climb up a ladder with the best of them. But if I wander away after climbing down, she’s completely fucking helpless. Maybe if she would just pick up a god damned pistol when I’m about to get my head chainsawed off, I wouldn’t be so bitter.

the currents have their say

So I sat down with Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door a few weeks ago, in a halfhearted attempt to balance the amount of violence in the games I was playing. If I had to summarize the experience in a word, it would be “cute”. Never nauseatingly cute, but then again it might not be the best choice of words for anyone that’s looking at this game seriously. Paper Mario certainly provides a pleasant, innoffensive adventure, but in terms of lasting enjoyment I can think of better ways to spend my gaming time than reading an endless torrent of dialogue bubbles.

I never played Paper Mario, so my only real basis for comparison to the gameplay is Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga, something I played almost non-stop on the plane ride home from Hong Kong. The storyline feels like an amalgamation of past Mario adventures: we have the mysterious island from Sunshine, the seven stars from the Super Mario RPG and the otherwordly door from Mario Land 2: The Six Golden Coins.

I imagine The Thousand Year Door was primarily aimed at kids; or at least that’s what it feels like. The bright, colorful graphics, the excellent character design, the simplistic, coordination-driven combat system and accessible storyline would make this a title any fledgling gamer could pick up and enjoy. But I think where the game falters is its delivery – there are just way too many dialogue trees to sift through to gather the important information for your quests, and I found the game’s difficulty increased a lot faster than I anticipated.

In combat, timing is everything. And for attacks, this is not a problem. However defending is, as for most monsters it won’t be entirely obvious how to defend against them. In Mario and Luigi, every monster has a little action they do to let you know how they are attacking, and you are able to prepare a defense, or possible counter-attack. I found that no matter how well I thought I timed everything, the best I could do was dodge. There is also an “audience” during the combat sequences combat, and depending on how well you’re doing you draw in new viewers who contribute to your “Star Points”, which in turn enable you to perform power moves or combos with party members. This is kind of a play off of Mario’s fame within the game world; it seems everyone you talk to is extremely honored to meet you and enthralled with your many exploits.

You gain party members as the game progresses, and their special abilities will enable you to visit previously inaccessible areas. Paper Mario can also learn his own share of abilities: he can fold up into a paper airplane and fly over chasms, or a boat to cross a raging river. The Zelda-MetroVania approach has been done countless times, but in order to keep me interested there has to be some really cool abilities in sight, an exciting meta-goal that will keep me picking up the game. But there wasn’t any of that, and after a while the game stops being fun. Though I was impressed by a boss battle that I felt would be a typical attack, dodge, repeat type of affair; instead, the boss I was supposed to fight turned into a game show host that offered me a set of questions I had to answer correctly to claim the item he was holding. I answered them all right, and he begrudgingly gave me my reward amidst a stream of (clean) curses. Like I said, cute.

Something that bothered me about party management is that you can only have two party members in battle or visible in the game world at any time. Party members are selected much like items in an inventory, and it just didn’t feel right. In Mario and Luigi this was expected; you were only ever supposed to control the two brothers through their adventure. But The Thousand Year Door is hard, and not having the extra bit of help can make the difference between winning and game over. See, as soon as one of your party member dies, that’s it – game over. Unlike Mario and Luigi, where a 1-up mushroom can be used to revive a fallen brother in combat.

It’s unfortunate that The Thousand Year Door was released in the holiday rush, because to be quite honest there really is nothing wrong with the game; I just can’t see myself playing it when there are much better distractions vying for my attention. And from what I’ve read, there isn’t a whole lot that distinguishes this game from its N64 predecessor, besides the storyline. If you’re looking for light hearted adventure on the Gamecube, you may be better off looking at the recently discounted Zelda: The Wind Waker.

he whistles then he runs

X-Men for the Sega Genesis was one of my favorite games for that system. Considering the obvious influences of Contra and Altered Beast, it seemed like a natural evolution of cooperative play. Of course, you could sometimes die if you couldn’t keep up with your impatient teammate, but that just forced you to stick together. Wielding the mutant powers of a handful of X-Men was always loads of fun, and what other game required you to actually reset your console as part of a mission?

X-Men Legends awoke fond memories of that game, which allows up to four players to simultaneously control their favorite X-Man through the game’s 20-odd missions. And because Legends adopts the format of the standard stat-building RPG, you earn experience for killing enemies that in turn allow you to purchase skill upgrades and mutant abilities for each character. You can also find equipment to outfit the members of your team, boosting attributes like defense, agility or attacks.

Although not as forced as the multiplayer combat in Tales of Symphonia, X-Men Legends still requires in-between single player wanderings before you move on to the next mission, delivering a kind of intermittent multiplayer experience. But if you compare Symphonia’s bite-sized monster encounters versus X-Men’s sprawling maps to explore, it becomes fairly obvious what the second, third and fourth players will find more acceptable. Though for pure multiplayer RPG action on the Gamecube you’ll still have to turn to Crystal Chronicles.

X-Men Legends begins with the rescue of a new mutant, codenamed “Magma”. Pursued by the Brotherhood of Evil mutants for her catastrophic powers, Professor X sends his X-Men in to save the day. You end up adopting Magma as your own avatar for the “adventuring” part of the game in between the missions. The X-Mansion is the launchpad for most missions, as the Danger Room was for X-Men on the Genesis. The X-Mansion is fully explorable, complete with a fully functional Danger Room that you can use to improve your skills while not in a mission, as well as spar with other X-Men to test out your moves. This opens potential for a combat mini game, and although mostly serves as a diversion, the fact that it was included at all adds more to the package. The scenarios you can unlock in the Danger Room depend on “Danger Room Discs” you find hidden throughout the game’s missions.

Various bonus content is also hidden throughout the X-Mansion and the missions, such as viewable comic covers, bios for the X-Men and enemies you encounter, and concept art. Even a trivia game can be accessed, which is pure fan service – but I loved it. The experience bonuses you gain for each correct answer make it worth playing.

Combat is in real time, and enemy rush tactics make the game feel like a beat ‘em up similar to Captain Commando or the original X-Men arcade game. You can execute special attacks in sequence to make combos with each member of the party, dealing extra damage or in some cases creating an area effect. There really isn’t much strategy to it, and the game becomes more about who kills the most enemies and garners the associated XP. You also get “X-credits” from killing enemies, which can be used to purchase equipment or resurrect fallen comrades.

But it’s not like the game doesn’t provide a challenge. The amount of enemies on screen can be overwhelming, and although health and mutant power potions are abundant, there never seems to be enough to go around to prevent your party members from dying. The maps are pretty linear, with invisible walls and “placed” debris telling you where to go. There are also hot spots requiring the use of one of your mutant’s special powers, something that should go without saying when you’re presented with a seemingly impassable chasm and Iceman in your party’s ranks. Most objects such as walls and debris can be destroyed to clear paths or just for the sake of demolition. Although there were obvious areas where you needed to destroy a wall to continue, having the option to destroy everything in sight seemed like an end in itself and weirdly amusing while controlling characters like Wolverine and Colossus. Objects like boxes and exploding oil drums can also be picked up and flung at enemies.

Interspersed throughout each level are “X-traction points” (clever, that) which allow you to save your progress, purchase new equipment or change up your squad as the need arises. Additional X-Men are gained as you progress through the game; the full roster can be seen here.

Call me biased, but the Gamecube controller is probably the best of the big three consoles. And I find that every multiplatform release with the possible exception of Soul Calibur II has used the button layout in the most convenient and ergonomic of ways. Though not my preferred way of playing the missions because of the difficulty, controlling your party solo is made extremely easy in this regard. Like Tales of Symphonia, you can also set AI behaviours for each character, making sure they aren’t using their most powerful mutant abilities carelessly while you’re in control of the main character.

Every third person console action game usually suffers from the same ailment of a poorly designed camera system. The camera is almost always at the mercy of the game designers, and as such your playing experience can quickly become frustrating. Put simply, the default angle in Legends sucks: it’s not quite isometric and it’s not the traditional “behind the shoulder” view of the main character in the party. The limited camera movements you are entitled to are more of an insult than an act of kindness. If the party is separated for any reason, it becomes difficult to group up again if a player gets stuck in a view-blocking obstacle (such as under stairs, or under a bridge). Additionally, some physical obstacles such as chasms or high cliffs are unviewable from the angle you’re given, and upon exploration you will more than likely fall to your death.

The graphics are decent, rendering some impressive and appropriately comic-bookish environments. However the character models are faceless and have flippers for hands, which is most noticable in the game’s cutscenes. Outlined/cel shaded polygons have been done before – and a lot better – in Tales of Symphonia. The artwork for loading screens in between major mission areas is pretty terrible, and was clearly commissioned for use with this game. This is a real shame for a game based on such a huge property with countless sources for artwork. I’m also not a fan of the X-Men’s new look. Although timely (it’s just based on the current X-Men comics), the mid-90s X-men would have been better, but that’s just a personal preference.

As a licensed product, X-Men Legends does its namesake well. As a game, there are a few things that prevent me from recommending it unconditionally. Legends doesn’t drift too far from the conventions set by games like Dark Alliance and other console action/RPGs, and as a result will be little more than a distraction for most multi-platform gamers in this season’s tidal wave of releases. And though the multiplayer makes it a fun game to pick up with friends, being at the mercy of the camera can make most missions a chore to complete. I’m thankful that X-Men Legends manages to provide a decent experience on the Gamecube, but I think it will find most of its audience in fans of the source material – not those looking for an RPG.

matching clothes for all of our live shows

I was looking forward to Four Swords Adventures as soon as I found out it would be using the same type of controls as Crystal Chronicles. Any game that takes advantage of the Gamecube/GBA connectivity beyond the bonus unlocks of Metroid Prime or peripheral gameplay of Wind Waker should be encouraged, despite what the general opinion is. The GBA-as-controller is not a problem as long as the game itself can justify it; sadly with Four Swords Adventures this is not the case.

With Four Swords Adventures, the question begs to be asked: how many times can Nintendo repackage an old Link adventure? The graphics are incredibly dated, and no matter how pretty the effects are they still look like they’ve been taped onto the sprites and pixelated backgrounds. This is probably the most outstanding fault against the game: it feels old. For instance, I knew where to find every secret passage and most puzzles were easily solvable based on past Zelda games.

The theme of “the four who are one” continues from the Four Swords game included in A Link to the Past for the GBA, except this time you have to save six maidens and Princess Zelda from the evil Vaati, which I suppose is reason enough for adventuring through seven areas of three dungeons each. This is the essence of the Hyrulean Adventure, which can be played by one to four people.

Regardless of the number of human players that start an adventure, there will always be four Links on screen. This is because every puzzle in the game requires the action of four players, heavily stressing the cooperation aspect of the game. The surplus Links simply become companions, who follow the human player’s character. You can perform formations with the group, which becomes handy in both object push/pull/lift and combat situations. You can also throw your teammates to get across chasms, which I found especially amusing.

The primary currency of Four Swords Adventures is Force Gems: collecting entire sackfuls is imperative. The object of each dungeon is to collect enough to power the Four Sword, and only then will you be able to face the Boss in the final dungeon of each area. They also become a kind of performance metric, because at the end of each dungeon stats are tallied and one player is declared the “winner”, an event that could only be considered ironic. As long as you have collected Force Fairies and enough gems, you can be instantly resurrected with a Gem deduction penalty. Naturally this takes away from the Four Sword’s power. Curiously, the Force Gem tally for each player is shown on the main TV screen, but not each player’s life meter. The perceptive player could see this as being a subtle hint toward’s the game’s true purpose.

Each player is only allowed to carry one special/magic item at a time, and you can’t carry them over into other dungeons. Similarly, any new heart containers you gain will also be removed upon entering a new dungeon. Four Swords Adventures is very much like Crystal Chronicles in this respect, as every dungeon seems like a discrete instance in time. Perhaps this is a limitation when using the GBA as a controller; it’s very possible that player-specific data can’t be stored anywhere and so it is reset for every new dungeon. But I find that very hard to believe.

I found it pretty distracting to have gameplay switch constantly between GBA and the TV. It’s almost like constant validation of the use of the GBA as a controller, because if you take away the indoor views, there’s really no point to it. Indeed, the group will have to split up to perform certain tasks, but you still can’t go beyond the borders of the current screen without collecting the party. If a player is still inside a building or cave, and another tries to leave the area, a small window will pop up on the TV screen showing a GBA-view of the player that’s still inside. The odd thing is that in single player mode, this also happens when you go inside, whether you’re using the standard controller or GBA.

Depending on who initiates conversations with NPCs, it only appears on their GBA, even though most times the information is valuable to all players. Certain cutscenes will show dialogue on-screen, but it’s more for story advancement and not clues for solving quests. A big problem I had was that if a GBA is disconnected (whether by pulling out the cable or batteries dying) the game will automatically quit to the main title screen, even during play. No graceful exits like in Crystal Chronicles, where the game would wait for the GBA to reset and allow players to continue with the dungeon.

For experienced players, this game isn’t much of a challenge. All the traditional clues for secret passageways and puzzles are self-evident. A veteran group of Zelda gamers could get through the whole game in a weekend without really trying. Now mind you, the controls and objectives set up by the game are a lot easier to grasp for new players. I played this game with The Wife, who enjoyed the cute characters and simple gameplay a lot better than the occasionally complicated controls and snap tactics during boss battles in Crystal Chronicles. I agree, although they are both essentially hack and slash cooperative adventures – one of them just happens to be infinitely more pleasing to the eye.

Some other additional features of the game include Tingle’s Tower, a bonus area that you gain access to in each new set of dungeons. This holds unlockable bonus games, whose sole purpose is to put Force Gems into your pockets. This is especially useful before venturing into the Boss dungeon, because without your sword fully powered up you won’t be able to proceed. The Shadow Battle available from the game’s main menu is a two to four player Zelda deathmatch, which was about as interesting as the battle mode from Mario Kart: Double Dash. This may be fun for some, but after a few rounds it’s clear that the Hyrulean Adventure is the core of the game.

If you can somehow cut out all the shortcomings of this game, you’d have yourself a pretty addictive co-operative adventure. But playing parts of the game on my GBA felt a lot more natural than looking at the TV screen, where the same graphics are a lot bigger. In that sense, I’d much rather be playing A Link to the Past: Four Swords with a link cable.

As a cooperative game, Four Swords Adventures has its definite benefits: it’s not a hard game to get into, and the puzzles are for the most part easy to get past. But we’ve all played this game so many times, and as nice as it is to go through it with a friend, I can’t justify the cost. Maybe if this game came out before Crystal Chronicles I’d possibly be a bit more lenient in my judgement, as it would be the first game to exploit the GBA as a controller. But when you’re basically looking at a 13 year old game that’s been overly stylized for 2004, I’d sooner lump this in with the NES Classics and Shining Force. If anything, Four Swords Adventures has made me appreciate the multiplayer brilliance of Crystal Chronicles even more.

in static pallor

I remember getting to play Metal Gear Solid and Thief: The Dark Project around the same time, and falling hard for this new style of stealth-based gameplay. Why not reward players for avoiding fights, instead of starting them? Coming up with cunning ways to trick and outwit your opponents without the use of force seemed like a high concept, something the PC needed desperately to rejuvenate a tired genre. I only spent a couple of late evenings with MGS on a friend’s Playstation back in University, but the challenges of Garrett’s adventure kept me up nights (the best time to play it) as soon as I got my hands on the full version. Incidentally, both Metal Gear Solid and its sequel were ported to PC – but there’s really no need to go further, as they were mediocre console ports with gargantuan install sizes and ridiculous system requirements.

So what would possess Nintendo and Konami, with the help of Silicon Knights, to team up and create a remake of a game that’s barely 6 years old? The Metal Gear franchise had been gladly taken up by the Playstation, and given the hype surrounding Snake Eater and the series’ rabid fan following, I would hardly think a remake would have been necessary to increase awareness. Perhaps this is me being overly optimistic, but I see this as a way of Konami testing the waters (so to speak) before committing to any future projects on the Gamecube as I explained in my earlier post about Castlevania. In simplest terms, Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes is a graphical and usability upgrade to a classic game.

What I remember most vividly about the original is the number, length, and depth of the cutscenes throughout the game. Indeed, I recall asking the first time I played, “Do you actually get to play in this game?” Metal Gear Solid was equally about creating an engrossing game, as it was about creating a believable and solid story. Alas, if you’ve played the original, The Twin Snakes adds no new surprises – all story elements are left untouched. Thus, the magic of playing through this incarnation would be to see the spectacular graphics if anything else. Curiously the original was contained on two CD-ROMs; this version, too, takes up two Gamecube discs. The effort that went into the sounds, voice acting and amazing score makes itself known as early as the beautifully scripted opening scenes – I was already captivated by the time the new “The Twin Snakes” title came across the screen, in the same manner as a well produced Hollywood film. Even the game’s menu screen, cold and dark with snakes emulating a DNA chain – as trivial as this sounds – evokes the same type of stylish design as Metroid Prime’s.

In the face of these excellent cutscenes, the game still uses talking “sketches” of the main supporting characters when you use your codec radio transmitter in game. I hate to nitpick on this small detail, but this was something that bothered me when I played the original. Why not have 3D animated busts, or add further realism to the codec tuning interface and show nothing at all? It would certainly add to the game’s atmosphere of mystery and intrigue.

One thing I like about MGS is the difficulty level – it remains consistently challenging. With very little interaction around the cutscenes, every game sequence was made to count. Save points aren’t an issue, as you can pretty much beat every new area in a few tries and autosaving takes care of the rest. I’d be careful to call it seamless, but the game does a pretty good job of convincing you that you’re the one moving the action along in your favorite espionage thriller. Due to these bursts of strenuous and calculatingly paced gameplay, it seemed that much more rewarding to watch the cutscene that followed. The AI has improved: the guards are very sharp, and ruthless in their tactics. In most stealth action games a stray bullet in a closed room wouldn’t make a difference. In The Twin Snakes, I was in one room early on in the game while well hidden and no guards in sight, and accidentally let a shot loose from my pistol. This caused the alarm to go off and a host of support guards quickly found my hiding spot, and made extremely short work of Solid Snake. Until you get your hands on the heavier weapons you have no chance against the guards unless you take them out individually, and the radar comes in quite handy for this. When attacking multiple targets, the new first person view (I hear this was cribbed from Sons of Liberty) makes this really easy. The top down view during combat in the original Metal Gear Solid was extremely unwieldy even with the laser sights.

To be fair, after playing Zero Mission I’m starting to expect a lot from remakes, as I’m sure many other people are. But it still would have been nice to insert some additional content into the game, maybe a “lost level” or two that bridged the familiar ones. Perhaps the story lies in too delicate a balance for this kind of manipulation, though, and I can respect the developers for that. On the whole I’d call it a great package if you haven’t played the original. Minus some minor tweaks this is essentially the same game, so don’t expect anything new here. If anything, this Gamecube port conveniently gives me an excuse to add it to my collection. Having never owned a Playstation, I kind of missed out on getting to know those revolutionary first-generation titles that have formed the genres of today.

good luck doesn’t last forever

The game’s intro is like watching the beginning of your favorite Saturday morning cartoon – the music is awesome, and gets you into the spirit of the game. The cutscenes, although nicely animated, cannot make up for the spartan plotlines for each team. The game’s story was clearly an afterthought; but I was more interested in getting to the action. The water surrounding the first few Team Sonic levels is like awakening a gamer’s collective subconscious – you would swear you had returned to the Green Hill Zone. But this feeling doesn’t last long.

There are four playable Teams in the game: Sonic, Dark, Rose and Chaotix, each with their own unique cutscene introduction to the levels that follow. Team Sonic is oriented towards classic Sonic gameplay, and is made up of the central characters of the Sonic universe. According to the game’s menu, Team Dark’s levels are more challenging, but I honestly didn’t notice. Team Rose is aimed at beginners, with a tutorial to begin their set of levels as a good way for players to learn the controls. Lastly, Team Chaotix takes a more objective-based approach: instead of simply racing to the end of each level, you must collect special items or perform certain tasks before completing it. The controls are simple enough – you have a “Speed” formation, a “Power” formation and a “Fly” formation, each of them activated when their respective character is in the lead. Switching between each formation is easy enough, but can cause gameplay to become unnecessarily cumbersome when dealing with multiple enemies on land and in the air.

At some points I wasn’t sure if I was playing F-Zero GX – the action moves very fast, and can be sight to behold as you speed across the game’s truly bizarre maps. The visuals are nothing a Dreamcast couldn’t do, though – they are clearly not this game’s strong point. For me Rail Canyon stands out as being a great set of levels. I was amazed at how convincing both speed and the gravity-defying stunts were conveyed. Giving the characters the ability to “grind” on rail tracks is a nice twist and makes gameplay a bit more interesting. But staying on the rails wasn’t as straightforward as it seems, and made for some quick deaths.

I should note that I have patience of galvanized steel. It takes a lot to get me frustrated; where most players would have thrown the controller in disgust, I’m still playing out of some spite towards the designers. Sonic Heroes succeeded to break my will at some points. The camera was satisfactory at first, but its jerky motion and peculiar tendency to follow a character that’s offscreen (ie. not the player controlled leader) got extremely tiresome. Anyone prone to epileptic seizures may want to stay away from the “Casino” levels – all of them were dizzying, nauseating and hard on the eyes. Not to mention almost impossible to navigate without surgical focus and the ability to stave off fits of rage. The voices of the characters are also extremely irritating – they insist on making some confirmatory sound after every action. When some maps require multiple attempts to get past challenging spots this does not support a pleasurable experience.

Some people find Sonic’s supporting cast annoying – I think they’re great. The series sports some unique character design, and it’s consistent across the board. I loved playing Team Sonic, but what I would have liked is a unique set of missions for each Team. Having every Team play essentially the same maps with different objectives seems a bit of a cop out, and puts a fairly low ceiling on replayability.

If you want multiplayer action, there are unlockable challenges such as a head-to-head race to finish some of the game’s maps. If you can find someone that’s used to the controls, this isn’t a bad test of skill, but it’s hardly a replacement for co-op. A game like Sonic Heroes is screaming for some sort of co-operative treatment – every console this was ported to has more than two controllers, and why not finally invent a game that doesn’t make the third person feel excluded?

The popular opinion appears to be that Sonic Heroes is the closest anyone has come to duplicating the 2D Sonic experience of yesteryear. I’ll admit it was a good attempt at taking a familiar series and pushing it in a traditional direction – focusing on speed and action, nothing more. However, some design decisions clearly get in the way of me fully enjoying this game. After a while I just got bored with it – there was nothing there to make me keep playing. And without a reason for me to even continue with the levels for the other Teams makes it seem like an awful waste. I really don’t see what’s so wrong with two dimensions – clearly some franchises are having real difficulty transitioning to 3D. I’m not quick to label this game a disaster, because I think that all Sonic fans will gain some enjoyment from it. Sonic Heroes is just a great concept that fell short of a solid platformer experience.

I thought that we would have to break up the band