Archive for the 'Review' Category

Battlefield: Bad Company Review: The I in Team

Published
by
Pat
on July 24, 2009
in Review
. 0 Comments

I feel bad about burying Jon’s post under 1200+ words again, but it’s down there, so Friday Funnies fans should check that out.  It seems like I’ve been playing the wrong game these past couple weeks; while I was in the midst of Battlefield: Bad Company, most other gamers were checking out the multiplayer fragfest that is Battlefield 1943.  It’s okay, though, I don’t think I could wear my critical cap quite the same way for 1943.  Maybe that’s good news for you, the reader, maybe it’s not, but here’s the result:

Battlefield: Bad Company Review: The I in Team

Published by: Electronic Arts

Developed by: Digital Illusions CE

Breaking in a game from a franchise I really don’t know anything about is an exciting experience.  I like to explore the nuances of it, everything from the way guns reload to the way the menu screen aligns and files itself.  For awesome or lame, Bad Company was my introduction to the Battlefield series.  The experience was… enlightening.  Bad Company is a game that distinguishes itself by shades.  You might pick beige to paint with, but the very point of beige is that it’s so close to white.

In Bad Company, you are Preston Marlowe, a soldier transferred to a squad within B (Bad) Company for doing… something silly.  I can’t really remember.  It’s okay, though, most everyone else in B Company was transferred there because they did something silly too.  B Company is infamous for being the rejects of the army, the soldiers don’t belong in a “normal” company but aren’t quite devious enough to warrant court marshal.  It’s not really a Bad Company, though.  It’s actually a very Good-Natured and Welcoming Company.  There’s Haggard, the country bumpkin explosives expert, Sweetwater, the lovable tech geek who is predictably bad with women, and Redford, a Sergeant roughly analogous to Halo’s Sgt. Johnson, except Johnson never needed sissy things like rest and relaxation.  Even Marlowe gets a personality apart from the player (which I feel like is something you can’t take for granted in games anymore).  He functions as the narrator, someone at once more intelligent than the rest for his calm sense of irony, yet just as stupid for going along with their shenanigans.  Topping off the squad is their voice-only support girl, Miss July, otherwise known by her more catchy designation, Mic One Juliet.  These characters are going to banter back and forth, all except Marlowe, who mostly just watches while he prepares his next piece of narration.

Battlefield: Bad Company Screenshot

The Three Stooges

See More Battlefield: Bad Company Screenshot at IGN.com

I’ll be honest, it’s the characters and story right there that account for half of Bad Company’s individuality.  It’s not your typical fight-the-evil-gits story; B Company starts out on the Eurasian continent, where the US is fighting Russia (no, I don’t know why).  Soon, one of the members of a company known for doing silly things does another silly thing, and the squad finds itself rogue and out to steal gold from a mercenary organization.  It’s a story that is almost refreshing in its lack of epic idealism, though the question quickly presents itself: isn’t this everything that war shouldn’t be about?  We’ll shoot down any amount of men, not for our freedom, not for the lives of our families, but for shiny yellow bricks that, by all accounts, aren’t ours?  This is where you should shut down the critical area of your brain, because what Bad Company wants you to understand is that it is filling a genre gap we never knew we had, called military comedy.

Bad Company’s control set is just different enough to spark intrigue.  Instead of mixing and matching two weapons with room for grenades, Bad Company instead makes you choose a set.  You have the choice of an assault rifle and grenades (some grenades hand-thrown, others launched from the rifle), a shotgun and grenades, or a sniper rifle and pistol.  You’re going to alternate those with the right bumper.  The left bumper is an entirely different story.  Bad Company teaches us that stimulants plunged directly into the chest are just as effective for the wounded solider as medical care, food and water.  You can use this an infinite number of times with only a short delay, thus enrolling Bad Company into the Bioshock School of Rapid-Delivery Substance Abuse (it and Condemned 2 will become close friends).  It’s just a slightly more manual version of the take-cover-and-heal feature of contemporary shooters.  Sharing the left bumper is… whatever you can find, really.  It might be a device that tricks mortar crews into thinking your current problem is a priority target, or it could be a power screwdriver that fixes all of your vehicle’s problems no matter which surface it’s applied to.

I’ll save you some trouble and tell you now that you press the left trigger to make a vehicle go forward and left bumper to reverse.  This is about as intuitive as using the parking brake for gas and the turn signal for reverse in a real car, but then you come across tanks, and saving the right trigger for firing makes a little more sense(they also spurt out concealing smoke.  Who knew?).  Helicopter gunships control like drunk donkeys, but hey, at least I can’t complain for lack of realism.

Battlefield: Bad Company Screenshot

If you don't shoot him, he's going to scratch the paint.

See More Battlefield: Bad Company Screenshot at IGN.com

Well, I can complain a little.  Firefights are a little silly.  The usual pattern is as follows: bad guy starts shooting you, you start shooting bad guy, bad guy falls down first, you stab yourself with a stimulant.  Then there’s the ally AI.  I’ve never come across a game where ally AI is great, it just ranges from crap to competent.  Bad Company leans more toward the former.  For being the rejects of the army, your squad has a very useful talent: they can’t die.  Perhaps that’s why, though; what’s the point of being an immortal soldier if you won’t shoot the enemy tank at point-blank range with rocket launcher slung over your back (I’m looking at you, Haggard)?  Vehicles also seem to be problems for them.  It takes me back to the days of Halo 1’s campaign, when the marines refused to drive you around in the Warthog.  When you acquiesced and let one take the gun, though, you could generally count on him to be the terror of Grunts and Elites everywhere.  Bad Company can’t even nail that down.  So, for all practical purposes, you’re on your own.

I hate to keep making references to Halo, but I’m feeling its presence in Bad Company’s gameplay patterns as well.  Bad Company’s environments are often vast spaces that don’t really qualify as open world but are very open nonetheless.  You’ll get some choice over how you approach a combat scenario, and if your first attempt doesn’t work, then you should probably try things a little bit differently.

Battlefield: Bad Company Screenshot

That might be my fault.

See More Battlefield: Bad Company Screenshot at IGN.com

Urban combat in Bad Company is also nuanced, falling somewhere between Call of Duty and the newly released Red Faction: Guerrilla.  Grenades and tank shells punch large holes in houses, and even when the houses never fall down, the fact that you’re never guaranteed cover is a little bit anxiety inducing (in a good way).

Battlefield: Bad Company falls into that loathsome pit of “good but not great.”  It’s different but not that different, new but not that new.  That the characters are so amusing helps greatly.  Get it rented or discounted; it may not fill up that $60 hole it left in you.

Notes:
-Jeez do we have enough red explody barrels in this game?  Sometime’s they’re useful for making holes in walls, sometimes they’re way out of the way, but they are all over the place.
-You can’t really accuse Bad Company of having the muddy shooter aesthetic; much of the time you’ll be fighting in the green countryside.
-All the houses in an area look the same, and they’re all completely empty.
-Reloading is a relatively lengthy process, but it feels more authentic than the usual “push button to get bullets” scheme.
-You actually get a radio in some vehicles. Nothing like shooting ‘em up to harmonica-fueled blues.
-There are packs of mercenary gold scattered around the levels, but finding them doesn’t seem to get you anything besides Achievements.

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Condemned 2: Boodshot Review: Bustin’ Heads

Published
by
Pat
on July 17, 2009
in Review
. 0 Comments

I had this idea for a comic yesterday, and I was hoping Jon could draw it for me, but he’s already got it in his head that he’s going to do a miniseries, so I guess I get to wait a few weeks on that.  In the meantime, here’s the verdict on Condemned 2.  Battlefield: Bad Company review next Friday? It could happen.

Condemned 2: Bloodshot Review: Bustin’ Heads

Developer: Monolith Productions
Publisher: Sega

Critic’s Note: To save our confusion for more appropriate occasions (like Mario Kart races!), Condemned 2: Bloodshot will hereafter be referred to by its subtitle, “Bloodshot.”  Similarly, Condemned 1 will be referred to by its subtitle, “Criminal Origins.”

The first thing you learn in Bloodshot is that Ethan Thomas is now a major contender in the UFC’s hobo division.  No, I take that back.  The first thing you learn in Bloodshot is that Ethan Thomas is a jerk.  You’d think being cleared of the murders of those two cops from the beginning of Criminal Origins would let you walk out the door with your head held high.  Maybe someone didn’t tell him to take care of himself on the way out; he clearly hasn’t, so much so that I’m not convinced that the character models didn’t change completely from Criminal Origins to Bloodshot.  Instead of the Hispanic-looking guy I knew and loved in round one, Bloodshot features and belligerent, white, full-bearded brute who should be splitting his time between anger management and Alcoholic’s Anonymous.  I’m just sayin’…

But whatever, empathizing with characters is for the RPG kids.  The second thing you learn in Bloodshot is that hobo fu is a more complicated martial art than Criminal Origins led you to believe.  My first emotion during the combat tutorials was disgust; if it ain’t broke, don’t add combos.  The hobos were up to the challenge, though.  There’s a list of combos on the pause menu where you can find the wisdom you need for melee mastery, but the enemy likes to flail, particularly right before you can land the final blow of the combo.  It’s the classic 1-2 step of easy to learn, tough to master, and this helps Bloodshot’s melee combat in the long run.

Condemned 2: Bloodshot Screenshot

Ethan's a little sensitive about his weight.

See More Condemned 2: Bloodshot Screenshot at IGN.com

Firearms in Criminal Origins were rare and short-lived, perhaps the game’s smartest move.  This is… not as much the case in Bloodshot.  There are a few sections of the game where, once you acquire an assault rifle, there is no good reason to put it down.  Far from the bums of the streets, soldiers are the only baddies at these times, so assault rifle ammo is plentiful (you still have one clip, but you get to reload it if you find more rounds), and you’ll leave a trail of headless bodies in your pursuit of, erm, dead bodies.*

An interesting addendum to the first-person shooter mechanic is the relationship between Ethan’s accuracy and alcohol.  Yep.  The story makes it clear that Ethan has fallen into alcohol abuse since Criminal Origins.  The game can’t really give you a hangover, so instead, when you look down the sights of your gun, Ethan wobbles.  With shotguns, you’re not going to care, but for pistols and rifles, it’s a bit of an issue.  There’s still a way to shoot the wing off a fly, though: consume alcohol in “small quantities” (read: find a bottle of booze and chug it at a rate that would leave someone of my weight passed out and choking on his own vomit).  There aren’t any negative consequences to drinking, so the feature is more significant on a thematic level than a mechanical one.  I don’t want to spoil much, but Ethan does not let the issue go quietly.

Something a fan of Criminal Origins can get psyched about (har har) is the renovation of the forensic investigation element.  Maybe Ethan is out on the streets now, but investigating is still in his blood.  His Link’s Syndrome is showing a lot less, too, even if he’s not doing so well with the substance abuse.  Instead of playing the game of “find the invisible spots,” you will be presented with a crime scene, asked to look at the evidence, and made to chose between a few options based on what you see.  At its best, it really is CSI; is that an outward blood pattern, or just a random one?  At its worst, you’ll still have to do some tedious searching for invisible spots before you get to analyze.  The game even does a good job of covering for you if you don’t relay completely accurate information.  God bless you if you’re not playing on an HD TV, though.  Ow, eyestrain.

Condemned 2: Bloodshot Screenshot

Let's analyze this in the lab while cool music plays in the background. Or we could shoot bullets into blocks of orange gel.

See More Condemned 2: Bloodshot Screenshot at IGN.com

I get the impression that I’m supposed to be dissatisfied by the direction the story took toward the end.  Oh wait, I never told you what was going on, did I?  Well, even after all the serial killers are gone, the people are still down with the sickness.  Rosa (whose character model also changed, but probably due to a makeover instead of a midlife crisis) gets a call from a guy named Vanhorn, who served as a plot catalyst in Criminal Origins.  So Ethan and Rosa have to find him and end up coming into conflict with a cult of meanie audiophiles.  But back to the issue: plot equals poo?  I can’t really hate it, primarily because if you played Criminal Origins to completion, you knew an Ethan vs. Cult showdown was coming in some form or other.  To play Bloodshot is to accept that.  Upon reflection, though, I’ll admit that there were flaws.  We figured out in Criminal Origins that Ethan was a special boy, but he doesn’t seem to be special for the same reasons in Bloodshot.  There’s a focus on power manifested through sound that was totally absent in Criminal Origins.  Also, some people have impressive survival rates, but I’m not going to nitpick here if I want to stay under three pages.

Early on you find that the poor, perturbed hobos are perturbed because some poo has placed sonic emitters around the city and left them set on the most irritating frequency possible (strange… I didn’t see any in Criminal Origins).  So naturally, destroying these devices will make the city more homeless-friendly, right?  The truth is that it’s a token gesture, just another optional quest to earn you a good ranking at the end of the level.  I distinctly remember two separate instances where I destroyed a sonic emitter with enemies in the vicinity (a rare occasion, for the two to be near each other), and they still attacked me!  I count this as an oversight because Monolith set up a nifty cause/effect relationship and then never followed through with it.  Instead, the focus remains on the ramped-up combat.

Condemned 2: Bloodshot Screenshot

Watching hobos accidentally hit each other and then start fighting is just as funny as it was in Criminal Origins.

See More Condemned 2: Bloodshot Screenshot at IGN.com

Alright, last question of the evening: is it scary?  I’m going to answer in the positive again, but I don’t think it’s as effective as Criminal Origins.  Monolith nailed the setting and atmosphere down again, but I’m going to posit that Bloodshot owes much of my tensed-up musculature to the fact that I played Criminal Origins so recently (I turned the lights down, too!).  The Monolith-brand scaries are much more contained, bottled almost independently of the game proper.  You’ll see what I mean if you ever play it.  Suffice it to say that the average enemy isn’t that spooky, even when the sound department tries to help them out.

Condemned 2: Bloodshot isn’t a textbook example of a sequel, but I think it’s far from a failure.  It switched things around, tried some things differently.  Some of it turned out well, some of it fell flat.  This is probably the part where I recommend that you rent it or get it at a discount.  Or play Condemned: Criminal Origins, if you haven’t yet.  I kinda liked it.

Notes:
-*Since when did assault rifle rounds pop people’s heads like balloons?  Resident Evil can get away with that, not Condemned.
-Levels grade the player on collectibles found and performance in investigations.  An upgrade is awarded, the quality of which depends on your grade.
-Some enemies get a little ridiculous for a game more grounded in gritty reality.
-No, I didn’t try the multiplayer.  You’ll have to forgive me.

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Burnout Paradise Review: Vroom Vroom Pow

Published
by
Pat
on July 3, 2009
in Review
. 0 Comments

Yeah, I know.  I said I wasn’t going to review Burnout Paradise, not unless somebody wanted me to.  But nobody wanted me to.  So why did I do it?  I tell you why: you see that little tab up there marked “Reviews”?  I look at the contents of that page as my portfolio.  If there’s any kind of presence I want to establish on the internets beyond my Facebook page, it’s that of a competent game critic.  I’m not sure anyone will get a sense of that looking through my other posts.

I’m worried that I used up all the creative power I had reserved for Burnout on the past two posts, but here it is anyway.  If you feel like you’ve got enough of Burnout, then don’t worry about reading this. ‘S all good.

Burnout Paradise Review: Vroom Vroom Pow

Sometimes I wonder why I’m not more of a car aficionado.  Toy cars were one of my favorite playthings as a kid.  My parents have photographs of me lining up toy cars end to end on the edge of their bed.  I remember my grandpa taking me to… must have been some sort of hobby shop… and letting me chose one of the Matchbox cars on display.  Even years later, I had my dad take me out to our church parking lot for my first driving lesson on my 14th birthday (the year when kids in Kansas can get their learner’s permit).  I didn’t become a pro driver, though, and I can’t tell you the make and model of that car that just passed (unless it’s the Nissan Xterra; it has that funny bump in the back).  I became a gamer.  So… Burnout Paradise.  How about it?  Could it put that internal combustion back into my engine (oh snap!)?  Maybe not like I was hoping it would, but Burnout Paradise (Burnout: Paradise? Burnout, Paradise?) is still a competent arcade racer.  If you can forgive its missteps, then you’re in for more than a few hours of entertainment.

Burnout Paradise follows the story of you, a driver-sprite delivered to this isolated metropolis known as Paradise City.  Here you will engage in ritualized racing combat against them.  Spin your wheels at almost any intersection and a legion of angry automobiles will descend upon you.  You will fight for honor.  You will fight for your life.  You will fight for Point B.

Burnout Paradise Screenshot

You break it, you get a better score.

See More Burnout Paradise Screenshot at IGN.com

Alright, so Burnout Paradise doesn’t have a story.  It barely even has a mission statement.  You want a point?  Here’s your point: win all the events you can, get all the cars you can, do all the barrel rolls you can, destroy everything you can, and maybe by the time you’ve burned yourself out, you’ll have a spiffy-looking driver’s license for your trouble.  Oh, and try not to let that DJ Atomika guy get under your skin.  While he seeks to be the spiritual father to the drivers of the city, he’s not really that helpful.

There’s no story, so what are you going to be doing?  Well, once you’re tired of wandering aimlessly about the city, you’re going to be doing events.  There’s the standard Race.  There’s Stunt Run, where you will promptly forget all the ramps you found while freeburning.  There’s Road Rage, which is much like a bar fight, except with a lot more twisted metal.  There’s Marked Man, which was going to be a Race until your car told the other cars what it did with their manufacturing plants last night.  Finally, there are Burning Routes, car-specific challenges aimed at making half your garage obsolete.

The gameplay aspect that affects almost all these event types is the open world nature of Paradise City.  How you reach point B is up to you.  If you start at one corner of the city and are tasked with reaching the opposite corner, you likely have some choices to make.  You could trace an L-shaped route, or you could try to carve a diagonal line through Paradise.  In this way, Burnout tries something different by not focusing on the destination (there are only a few finishing points used for races) as much as how you get there.  It appeals to the strategic planning centers of my brain, but whether my plan works or not depends a lot on how well I know the city.  More often that not, I don’t.  Despite the fact that Criterion Games has gone to all the trouble to name the streets you drive on, this is a racing game, so navigation is going to be based on quick reflexes and sight-recognition (not always easy when the camera angle behind your car is tilted a little too low).  In other words, I don’t have time to follow a set of directions from Mapquest.  I’m not out of resources; I can look at my mini-map in the corner, though this often results in me plowing into the back of a “civilian” vehicle like an errant missile.  I could bring up my full map, even if it breaks game flow.  It’s clear that memorization is your best option, I’m just not sure I want to give Paradise City the same amount of attention as I give the real world.

Burnout Paradise Screenshot

Really? I thought they were DANCING.

See More Burnout Paradise Screenshot at IGN.com

Still, I don’t see any reason to complain about the cars themselves.  Collecting them is relatively easy, and they come in three easy-to-understand categories.  Driving is easy, drifting is satisfying, the speed gets intense, and your pit stops aren’t really stops at all.  Catching air is cool, and doing an unexpected barrel roll make you feel like a pro.  Crashes are the whipped cream on the pie, except when it’s not.  When I’m pushing the sound barrier and merely grazing a “civilian” car sends me flying spiraling, disintegrating and exfoliating, I’ll just take my pie without whipped cream, thanks.  Maybe I can find some ice cream somewhere.

Burnout is for people who want to put the game back in their game, but I can’t say its purity is total.  The license upgrading system is clearly for its own sake, taking much the same attitude as the Achievements the game offers.  The path is simple; you start out with a Class D license.  Winning events will upgrade you to a Class C, B, A, and then a full Driver’s License.  If you’re devoted, you can go for an Elite License.  But for what?  Nothing is unlocked except another car, and you’ve got plenty of those.  Paradise City is already open to you, so getting a better license won’t mean you get more space.  This must be for bragging rights, because I certainly can’t find a higher purpose here.  You’re stuck at a Class B?  Bah!  Pollute our city no longer, n00b!  These hallowed streets are for real drivers!

On top of that, you’ve got a couple sets of collectables to find (and crash through), such as billboards with the game’s logo and glowing yellow gates.  What do you do when you’ve smashed through all that?  Well, fine sir, let me show you to this DLC over here…

Burnout Paradise Screenshot

Moving so fast, East Crawford is gonna be West Crawford.

See More Burnout Paradise Screenshot at IGN.com

Criterion watches over it’s DLC like a collector watches over his antique car: he’ll let you look, but not touch… unless you pay him money for it.  Downloadable cars are featured prominently in the menus, but until you pay, it’s just window shopping for you.  Then there’s Big Surf Island, a whole new area of the game under quarantine until you pay for a pass.  This is a game with Netflix ads on the billboards, but it’s a little ironic that the most obnoxious in-game advertising is for Criterion’s own products.  Yes, I know Big Surf Island is available.  I don’t need to see it every time the colors of Paradise City are flown, or every time I open my map.  It’s not a player-friendly campaign, and the thrifty may only see it as an excuse not to pay.

Burnout Paradise is a good game with flaws.  It’s a fast game that often grinds you to a halt.  It’s a straightforward game that leads you to get sidetracked.  Despite my griping, I would give it a good rating, overall.  You could do worse than Burnout Paradise.

Notes
-DJ Atomika, the only character in the game, is well-voiced.
-Street signs light up at night, but are illegible—a bigger, higher-def-er TV than I used might fix that.
-Updates to the game make you go through more screens before you can actually play.
-Linking up with a friend online is surprisingly easy.
-Everyone can do a double barrel roll but me. :-(
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Condemned: Criminal Origins Review: Trippin’ Somethin’ Scary

Published
by
Pat
on June 26, 2009
in Review
. 5 Comments

Readers close to me like to joke that my reviews are novellas.  I would usually respond that they don’t know what long is, but this time I’m just going to say that I think this one is worth checking out, for the game if not for the writing.  Enjoy!

Two and 1/3 pages, MS Word, 12-pt. Times New Roman.  For the record.

Condemned: Criminal Origins Review: Trippin’ Somethin’ Scary

It was back in the fall of 2006 when little Pat Trouba, a freshman in college but fresh out of friends or much homework, completed his first experience with FEAR (First Encounter Assault Recon), Monolith’s famous first-person shooter.  It enveloped him curious kind of bliss; he was terribly spooked out, but it was one of those games that made him happy to be a gamer.  To little Pat, FEAR (because punctuated acronyms are so 20th century) set the bar for every piece of media that claimed to be proficient at the art of spine-tingling.

Little did Pat know, Monolith released another game about a month after FEAR.  However, it wouldn’t be until 2009, when Pat had friends and all too much homework, that he experienced Condemned: Criminal Origins.  Did Condemned hold a flickery candle to FEAR, which had on its side nostalgia and the reverence of a landmark experience?  I’m… prepared to say it did.

Condemned follows the struggle of FBI agent Ethan Thomas, who makes a living peering under dark rocks in hopes of finding serial killers.  Ethan, however, is about to have a very bad day.  A criminal on the run takes his gun and kills to police officers with it.  The police know that a gun couldn’t have possibly been fired by anyone but its owner, so Ethan goes rogue, tracking down the killer so he can prove he isn’t such a rogue after all.  Ethan is assisted by Rosa, a helpful lady in forensics who, like Ethan, is not a supermodel (smell that?  It’s refreshing realism.  Ahhhh…).

Don't lose your, um, head. Sorry.

Condemned is a strange game where many things that would be considered bad design decisions elsewhere are surprisingly functional.  For starters, many of the environments feel the same.  They’re not the same, but they all almost always dilapidated and dark.  Either daylight doesn’t exist in Ethan’s city, or he is a very motivated individual (it’s a very good thing your flashlight’s batteries never run out, because it will be dark, all the time).  The levels are trying their hardest to decay, and they hired a tornado to do the interior design.  I noticed this, thought briefly about it, decided it wasn’t polluting the game’s atmosphere (even adding to it), and played on.

I could complain about Ethan the slowpoke.  He steps slowly and deliberately, brandishing the pipe to whatever plumbing system he just ruined.  The only way to get him to giddy-up is to click down the movement stick, but that runs out soon, and Ethan doesn’t exactly haul it Call of Duty 4 style.  I noticed this, thought briefly about it, decided that this is exactly the way someone in Ethan’s position would move (that is, with caution), and played on.

Some might take issue with Condemned’s evidence collection system.  Well, actually, I might too.  For a game as realistic as Condemned, Ethan has an obvious case of Link’s syndrome from the beginning.  Link’s syndrome, a disorder I was proud to diagnose myself, is the acquisition of many large items and tools, too numerous to all be kept on the character’s person as he is displayed.  In Condemned, Ethan will pull out several large pieces of equipment for the collection of evidence on-site.  The man doesn’t even carry a backpack.  It’s not a game killer by any means, it just pushes the player’s suspension of disbelief a bit too hard.

What will bog the game down from time to time is the evidence collection process itself.  Monolith doesn’t leave it to you to be the forensics expert.  Upon entering a scene, the player presses a button to pull out a predetermined tool, and once you’ve found the different-colored spots or whatever, you press the button again to pull out the predetermined collection tool.  Then the data is sent to Rosa via cell phone for analysis.  It’s a more scripted, less organic process.  I noticed this, thought about it, decided it wasn’t a deal breaker (and that, thanks to CSI, this is how we solve mysteries in the 21st century), and played on.

Ugh. I hate New Balance.

Others might not find the combat system to their taste… and they would be crazy.

Combat is simple.  The right trigger whacks angry hobos with whatever set piece you took from the environment.  The left trigger deflects hobo flailings when used timely.  Oh, and left bumper to taser (I’ll show you police brutality!).

Combat is deep.  Angry hobos aren’t the most intelligent of enemies, but their moves (and your weapons) vary enough that you’re still going to have to pay attention.  This may not be something you master after a couple fights.  Some go down after one hit, but nothing says they have to come one at a time…

And yes, there are guns.  If you’re lucky.  This may be the aspect of Condemned that I admire most: its handling of firearms.  Condemned believes that, far from being stapled to your hand as in every other first-person game, guns are a luxury.  To acquire one is to receive a blessing from Monolith, and don’t count on having it long.  You do not have a button to reload, you have a button to check how much ammo you have left.  Want to melee?  You may flip the gun around, like someone who isn’t wearing performance-enhancing armor, and shotgun-whip your enemies.  Welcome to survival horror.

I, um, just thought you needed some plumbing help...

But here’s the important question: is it scary?  I would definitely say yes, though since playing Dead Space I’ve come to think that maybe scariness is in the eye of the boot-quakers themselves.  The instances of scariness aren’t pure gore, they aren’t derived from Ethan’s possible failure and death, they don’t even really involve your average vengeful spirits.  Ethan gets to deal with hallucinations.  Don’t think pink elephants in the sky or smelling the color nine (thanks Chris Rice!).  Sometimes it’s premonitions, but other times it’s very clear that evil is after Ethan, something stronger than a killer or two.  If that sounds scary to you, cool.  It was often terrifying to me.

Then there was the very last playable moment in the game, and I have to talk about this, however shoehorned into the review it seems, because it was a moral choice.  It was a moral choice, and the player makes it in the manner some of the most important moral choices are made: right now.  The game gives you five seconds.  It happened so fast, I almost couldn’t appreciate what had just happened.  I’m sorry, but did any other reviewer notice this when it came out in 2005?  Were any game developers paying attention?  This could’ve been the next big step in games morality, but between Knights of the Old Republic and inFamous, the average player would think that games morality was still polarized into alignments as far from each other as the north is from the south.  I’m not sure Monolith knew what they had just made.  The way events played out, it looks like it might not have mattered what you chose.  But it’s a shame; I feel like I got a glimpse of a future that never arrived.

Condemned is a game to behold.  I really wonder if other game makers have played this and taken notice of its characteristics, the things that it does.  I think there are things to be learned.  But I just play here, so I’ll just say that it comes highly recommended.

Notes
-Voice acting excellent, Rosa’s voice oddly doesn’t match her character model.
-No apparent reason for hobos as enemies, but the game would be boring without them.

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