A Valley Without Wind 2 is a game I don’t quite understand. Before giving it a shot I discovered from the Steam Store page that it is a blend of the “best qualities of old-school platform-shooters and turn-based strategy games,” to which I had no response. I love the idea of mushing genres together and seeing what results, and AVWW2 (one of the ugliest acronyms I’ve ever seen) certainly got me confused through this description, but in actuality it’s pretty clear. There’s the turn-based meta-game where players select where to send their character, then the actual platform shooter gameplay that occurs within each turn. One of them is definitely more fun than the other, but in each form I still find it hard to understand what I’m doing. Nonetheless, they work well together for those strategically-inclined gamers that want to put on their action boots for a bit. I’m not sure it works the other way around.

There’s a neat variety of level environments such as a retro-city, jungle or desert, each with their own variety of baddies. This ice/robot-themed level is one of my favourites.

As a hero who has just successfully tricked the evidently evil nemesis (his name is Demonaica, so he must be a bit of a badass) into literally handing over a crystal that grants immortality in the form of being able to be brought back to life as many times as necessary (soon revealed to be a lot), players are shown a large tiled board-game-style world map and dictated in significant detail the copious options for the current move. Should you order fellow survivors to build a clinic at (-2,0) or send them to destroy obstacles (which you can’t destroy yourself… for some reason) at (4, -3) before embarking yourself into a desert-tile at (-3, 0)? Those co-ordinates are made up, by the way. As if I can recall actual co-ordinates, but you get the idea. You command a small rebel force against demonic monsters controlled by the demonic overlord Demonaica himself.

Here’s your world map. Feel free to give me some advice for my next move, since the Strategic Advisor is just spitting out huge blocks of text.

Through the tutorial dialogue the protagonist expresses a whole lot of confusion at what he/she is instructed to do (a nice touch of genuine humour on the part of Arcen Games), but the responding explanations are all far too detailed. When the protagonist goes on to say “Oh, I get it now”, I’m left to say “Hey, hey, he’s not speaking for the both of us. What the shit is going on?” Being told constantly to refer to the “Strategic Advisor” feels like a cop-out that never becomes not-annoying, especially since this “advisor” doesn’t provide any usefully dynamic advice for the current situation, just generic explanations of game mechanics, essentially operating as a manual. The player is bogged down by a constant flow of information which should have been introduced in a clearer and more thoughtful way. The tutorial of AVWW2 is that school teacher that refuses to engage her students, choosing instead to dish about a thick wad of handouts while she marks her other class’ homework and expects them  to understand every word by the start of next period… I’m still hurting from high school.

The 16-bit visual style works well for the old-fashioned platform-shooter side of AVWW2, though this aspect of the gameplay is still lacking. Levels are design to encourage a fast pace, requiring agility and projectile-avoiding for your hero to survive, but the movement and aiming controls don’t go well together. Players have to choose whether they stand still and spam A, S and/or D to actually damage enemies or jump around and pray to whatever anti-Demonaica deity there may be that one of their attacks hits something. The most intuitive choice is to opt out and sprint through the entire level, stopping only to pursue an abandoned house or cave in pursuit of underwhelming treasure. Killing bad guys gives no real benefit, so you may as well just skip that bit and get to the end of the level.

Though these sardonic comments make death more of an annoyance, the writing for AVWW2 is great, with genuinely amusing humour. While the formal tone felt out of place in Shattered Haven, it works well with these medieval-inspired heroes.

There really is just a bit too much of everything in AVWW2. A brief look at the achievements list will satiate any strange hunger for overwhelming confusion, with over 200 achievements that suggest there are 50 possible mage classes to play as and 50 levels of equipment (more conventional RPGs tend to have closer to… like.. seven.) and with two difficulty-settings per game (one for the strategic elements consisting of five options and one for the platform-shooter side consisting of seven options–that’s 35 distinct difficulty settings), there’s just too much. From memory I commented in my review of Crysis 3 that the number of difficulties was too damn high, but I feel I was mistaken. AVWW2 is now absolutely the go-to case for most unnecessarily high number of difficulties. Variety is the spice of life, sure, but when there are so many options without clear parameters and distinction between any of them, this spice ages and loses its flavour, smell and colour, and ultimately you’re left with fifty shades of grey. And who wants that?

See? That is one big-ass block of text.

A Valley Without Wind 2. It’s ambitious, genre-mushing and will definitely appeal to even those who were unimpressed by its predecessor. With a more polished and smooth experience, as well as the introduction of the strategy mode giving the game a much needed sense of direction, this sequel is a step in on the right path, but it’s still not quite a leap.

What you should take from this review is that this game is like your high school chemistry teacher mixed with 50 Shades of Grey. That’s something I really don’t want to think about, so we should finish up here.

6.7

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of A Valley Without Wind 2 by Arcen Games.

Poker Night 2 (hereby declared as PN2)  is, as most would probably be capable of deducing, the direct sequel to Poker Night at The Inventory (it’s still at The Inventory, but I guess that’s not as important now), and this time around we’re dealing with Claptrap (Borderlands), Sam (Sam and Max), Ash Williams (The Evil Dead series) and Brock Samson (The Venture Bros). Along with GLaDOS (Portal), these are the characters you’ll see the most of, with cameos by Captain Reginald Van Winslow (Tales of Monkey Island), Mad Moxxie (Borderlands) and Max (Sam and Max). As “The Player”, players are forced to endure less-than-exciting hands of poker to listen to the banter between this motley crew, which is really the only reason to play Poker Night 2, and even then… eh.

First off, this is primarily a Texas hold ‘em game. Anyone who is a dedicated fan of the card game itself and just must play a computerised version should look far away from PN2; the process of calling, checking, betting, folding, raising, all-in-ing and inevitably failing feels more drudgingly boring than any real-life rendition I’ve played. Not just that, but the opponents never act in a convincingly authentic manner and never seem to put any thought put into their moves. Which makes sense since they’re not actually human, but still. Seriously, the whole tournament-gameplay-thing is very, very ‘eh’.

PN2 now refuses to open for me (not that I’m complaining at all), so we’re stuck with some pretty mediocre screenshots. Here’s a close-up of some cards.

Absolutely the only reason to play PN2 is for the character interactions, which are genuinely amusing… for a while. Even without prior familiarity, these characters can force some chuckles out of you. I have still never seen a single frame of The Venture Bros. (which is a TV show, apparently?), but Brock Samson is probably the funniest factor of this title, possibly due to the one and only Patrick “the Tick” Warburton being his voice actor. On a similar note, it just didn’t seem right that when Ash opens his mouth, Bruce Campbell’s voice doesn’t come out. It feels awkward that someone else voices him, and maybe that’s why his lines never really worked for me. Bow chicka bow wow.

When all but one of your opponents is eliminated, the camera pans and zooms into this awkwardly cosy view. Let’s just say I got to know Sam’s face really well.

Not that I can take too much notice of this, since each line I had once found humourous is now spat out every few minutes. A joke may be great the first time you hear it, but doesn’t just lose its flavour after unwarranted repeats–it starts to really get on the nerves of those forced to endure it. Sure, it was funny when GLaDOS questioned my intelligence that first time, or Claptrap said something dark in a seemingly contradictory positive tone, but it all quickly becomes clockwork. You know when to expect a “sick burn” or an insult, and soon enough the exact same lines are repeated and it’s all just too much. It feels like your opponents are all impersonating the guy from Memento, constantly forgetting what just happened and re-telling the same damn stories, asking the same damn questions. Eh.

Sure, winning tournaments in PN2 grants you coins you can spend to unlock card and coin designs and table felts, but… really? Is this really how you want to be repaid for investing the time and effort? Congratulations, you won five tournaments, now you can afford the Portal table felt, so you can play another tournament with… a different table felt! No, thanks. Really. There’s also certain requirements that if met grant you the chance to win your opponents’ bounties, but this system feels totally out of place in a game of poker. The gameplay is really so damn tedious and despite the presence of some great characters, the conversation rapidly becomes equally so. Poker Night 2 is ultimately a prime example of ‘eh‘.

I’m hesitant to click “THANKS!” because deep down I know I’m really not grateful at all.

Take into account the low price, and that that money is going to the pocket of one Telltale Games, and you might consider Poker Night 2 for a bit of a laugh. Ignoring the fact that Poker Night 1 had the better cast, in my opinion. Just don’t expect to be amused for more than a couple hours. It’s cheaper than going to the movies. So that’s… something.

6.0

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Poker Night 2 by Telltale Games.

Monster Loves You! is a thing.

It’s… yeah, it’s a thing. People who grab this title and open it up will find themselves making decisions for a monster-thing (which to be honest, never actually shows affection towards the player) that will allegedly influence its future and somehow the development of its personality. They’ll choose “adventures” at random, some of which are as trivial as “this person is being bullied, you should help them”, and others as trivial as “you are fighting with this person over what to have for dinner”. Less uninteresting ventures can be easily found in the Steam Store page description, so I’d presume they’re in the game somewhere, though nothing anywhere near as exciting as “Devour[ing] Little Red Riding Hood” was ever found on my screen in the two and a half playthroughs I’ve given this… thing. Somehow fitting into the categories Adventure, RPG and Simulation, I’m left with an overwhelming wonderment as I ask myself how in the hell Monster Loves You! has been considered a game at all.

Choose your adventure! Do you select the chicken bone or the rock? Or is the monster shaking its fist at the sky more your style?

It seems that the only actual goal for those who venture into Monster Loves You! is to successfully achieve all the possible endings, of which there are “a dozen or so”. However I cannot imagine a real-life person over the age of four actually being able to withstand the process of reading every boring paragraph and selecting every boring answer that you would hope gets you closer to every boring ending you desire “a dozen or so” times. I’m struggling to get motivated for a third playthrough right now because I don’t want to read through the same blocks of text in essentially the same fashion yet again. The repetitive gameplay–reminiscent of a choose-your-own-adventure book–is just a little drab and disappointing.

In my first playthrough, I took my time and chose what I honestly felt best for the situation; I didn’t deliberately act like a douchebag or irritatingly kind, just however seemed necessary, and this lasted about 35 minutes before quickly reaching the “Legend of Departure” ending. To follow this up, I rushed through the game in just under 10 minutes, choosing to ignore any opportunity for action possible, and ‘achieved’ the “Dissolve into Mediocrity” achievement. I am genuinely perplexed as to why there is so often an option to just ignore a given situation. Who would actually choose to just “return to the hovel” instead of undertake an adventure or take part in a discussion? Apart from an idiot like me, I mean. I’m beginning to think this is a deliberate move by the game to encourage me in my real life to forgo the urge to have lazy, lonely nights in the safety of my own home in favour of the more adventurous lifestyle, spending time with friends and making new ones to better myself and reach my true potential as a person, for the betterment of my own life and for those I come across in my travels on the pursuit of true happiness that we all find ourselves following. Or maybe it’s just stupid.

I was going to ask what Poke-the-Bear Day was, but then I realised I don’t care.

There is an odd sort of charm to Monster Loves You!, the kind that initially encourages you to overlook the all-too-present faults, until it becomes unconvincing and tedious. The backdrops are fairly appealing, with monster-villages and houses designed in a cute cartoon art style, but rarely do players get the chance to appreciate these images while actually getting anything done. Sure, you can waste time in between adventures and watch as the environment sits as motionless as yourself (unless you’re playing this while exercising, of course) if you’d really like, but I’d imagine you’d rather get things done, such as choosing a new adventure. Doing this brings up an obnoxious and fittingly cutesy, childish interface filled to the brim with words for you to narrate to yourself, and a series of restricted and often arbitrary options to choose from.

So I managed to get through a third playthrough, and I’ve gotta say, this “narrow gap between fear and hate” was pretty simple to find. Something tells me this isn’t the most difficult of endings to achieve.

Although this entire title is based on the decisions you make for your monster (literally, that’s the entire thing), the actions that your monster actually takes have no lasting effects whatsoever. The only reason to choose particular options is to earn points that show off how brave/nice/clever/honest/douche-y you are, which are necessary to open up future options, and predicting how to act to receive certain points is a lost cause. I would have thought that showing fellow monsters how to find lichen to feast on would generate kindness points, but instead earned me +15 to cleverness. Choosing to compliment a proud hat-wearing monster so as to avoid hurting his feelings doesn’t earn kindness points as expected either, it just provides a neutral response. Which makes no sense to me. This happens fairly often, with points dished out willy-nilly, with neither rhyme nor reason at any time of season. I just rhymed without reason, see? How annoying is that? That’s how I feel. It’s impossible to tell if a douche-y action will earn you ferocity points or detract kindness points, and it constantly feels like you’re being punished and praised completely at random, and less like you’re developing your creature’s unique personality. Because you aren’t.

Between adventures you’ll spot your monster-thing standing stationary as it develops over time, sometimes with dorky little boots or octopus-inspired fins. Or both. Looking as your monster stands alone as if ostracised from his fellows feels much more depressing for me than I think it should. You’ll see no interaction between the… thing… that you are making choices for and the groups of… other things… and instead, it will just stand there. Monster Loves You! never feels like a life-simulation game, and should be more appropriately marketed as a choose-your-own-adventure novel-cum-computer program. Not quite a game and not quite a story, Monster Loves You! fails to engage and just barely entertains.

Here’s a stationary hub area. Watch as every nameless monster sits still and stares in the same direction. It’s also so great to see my own green monster superimposed in the most unconvincing fashion.

The only demographic I can imagine this title should interest (which, spoiler alert, is clearly not my own) are children playing with parents. I could picture a father reading to his daughter the predicament he is given and listing her available options, letting her own imagination and sense of moral rights or fun times take charge. I feel ridiculous for saying this, but the game details quite a lot of violence for this to actually be the target audience. I don’t understand who this title has been designed for or why, and I’m still wondering how someone messed up so much as to send this to me to be reviewed as a game. Personally, I spend more than half of my first playthrough waiting for the game to start, until, with horror, I realised that the question-answering was the game.

How Dejobaan, the team behind the fantastic AaaaaaAAAaaaaAaaaaAAAAAaa! (you know what I mean) was behind this, I have no idea. I can recommend you see a not-quite-a-story-and-not-quite-a-game, choose-your-own-adventure novel/computer-program reviewer, and see what they have to say. It’s more their area. Leave the video games to me.

3.2

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Monster Loves You! by Dejobaan Games.

The Bridge is a neat little puzzler that demands similar levels of mind-bending-ness as Portal and Antichamber, with the average player probably spending a lot of time staring at their screen struggling to work out how to progress at particular points. Hopefully, otherwise I’ve embarrassed myself. There’s at least five hours of gameplay to be worked from a single playthrough of the whole game and I doubt there is any room for replayability since the satisfaction of outsmarting a puzzle can hardly be replicated when you already know the answers. That’s not all The Bridge offers though, with an aesthetic appeal and aura of intrigue guaranteeing that this little title stands out from the crowd of indie-puzzlers.

There are 24 ‘real world’ puzzles (which then have ‘mirrored world’ versions, though these are essentially different puzzles, so let’s say there’s a total of 48) and in most of these there is only one concept that once understood is simply overcome, while slightly more difficult puzzles may take up to 15 minutes to work out. Then there are rarer puzzles (maybe four or five?) that are disgustingly difficult and could require over an hour of constant mind-meltingly frustrating failure before success is finally reached. On these occasions, the desire to not be beaten and laughed at by the game itself was my only motivation to push through. In these cases the solution wasn’t discovered through a systematic approach but, rather, by accident (again, I hope I’m not alone…), so despite the relief of such torture being over, I still felt pretty dumb. However, for the most part the puzzles are tame enough to keep you sane yet difficult enough to be challenging. Which is nice, in a market that isn’t lacking in almost impossible puzzles (I’m looking at you, Gateways).

If I could have a house like this, I don’t think I would. Seriously, that place is a lawsuit just waiting to happen… I don’t know how lawsuits work.

The gameplay of The Bridge is surprisingly simple; your character can only walk left and right (no jump, crouch, sprint etc.), although he has adapted a peculiar ability to shift the direction of gravity to his will, effectively rotating the world around him. You’ll spend time walking on walls and ceilings in various ‘rooms’ of what must be the world’s strangest mansion, with some of the largest books known to man (seriously, these books are bigger than doors…). Typical of puzzlers, new elements are gradually introduced as the game progresses. It never ceases to surprise, with genuinely interesting game-changers doing what they do best–changing the game–right to the end. The rooms that widened my eyes in awe and amazement the most were those that forced players to control two versions of the protagonist (I’m not sure if he’s supposed to be Isaac Newton. I named him Herbert.) and align him with escape-doors simultaneously. In the tragic event that players mess up (and by tragic I mean inevitably frequent), there’s usually no need to restart the whole level, since a neat Braid-esque style back-track ability is also available at all times.

This is the most complex-looking puzzle I could find to show. If you understand what’s going on here, colour me impressed. I think that is… yellow.

The two-man development team of The Bridge consists of developer Ty Taylor and artist Mario Castaneda. That the art style of the whole game is designed by an actual artist is quite clear, with a beautiful black and white lithographic visual style inspired by renowned M.C. Escher works, and haunting music that fits in perfectly, creating an almost sinister vibe throughout the game. The storyline embellishes this dark feel, but is ultimately too vague and lofty to really be engaging. I’d fathom a guess that a tale of friendship and a descent into physics-induced madness was involved, but really I can’t remember. The narrative is intriguing, to be fair, yet not necessary to enjoy The Bridge, although enough effort has been put into the writing that it never becomes a negative issue. So that’s… good?

I mentioned earlier that there’s no room for repeated playthroughs here, though I guess one may be interested in finding all the ‘hidden wisps’ alluded to in a Steam achievement. For those that weren’t so inclined as to overlook the narrative (*cough*), I gather these wisps would build upon it. Good for you.

After each chapter these plaques read deep paragraphs of story, and man do they get deep.

If you do decide to tackle The Bridge, be warned that it can definitely make you rage, and it will take a lot of willpower to work through each puzzle, with huge difficulty-spikes taking you by surprise. I feel that it’s worth it though, because for all the keyboard-smashes and death threats sent I Herbert’s way, at the end of it all I am left with a sense of accomplishment for finally finishing, without hating the development team behind it. Although the movement system can at times feel sluggish, the puzzles of The Bridge are fun and artistically appealing to take on, so hey, it gets a recommendation from me.

I just wonder why Herbert hasn’t moved out of that house yet. Seriously, that is one messed up place.

8.2

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of the Bridge by Ty Taylor.

Shattered Haven (not to be confused with Shattered Horizon) is a zombie game, though a fresh take on what I’ll call the ‘genre’ of zombie games. Instead of facing against hordes of the infected undead with assorted firearms and blades, players of this title will be laying iron-laden traps to pick off Grays one at a time (by the way, Grays are zombies. They‘re deathly allergic to iron.). It’s been nine years since ‘That Day’ (as every NPC will tell you. Seriously, don’t they have anything else to talk about?), and Darrell and Mary’s surprisingly comfortable lives are shaken all up when their daughter Lela is lost and their home is overrun by Grays in an event that truly escalated quickly. Within ten minutes of starting the game their home is lost (or their haven is shattered, huh?) and they venture to save Lela, no matter what evil spirits they have to ignore along the way, although if you play single-player you’ll find that Darren does all the work and Mary just follows along in her invulnerable way, being of no use. Now that the story’s out of the way, let’s get to how the gameplay goes down.

Here’s an early-on maze/puzzle that caused me a lot of fuss. Trying to get the shovel near the bottom of the screen to empty out/fill in the pits all around, I fell down pits too many times. Too many times, too many times.

Shattered Haven is one of those rare titles that don’t require a mouse to play. Not that that is something I look for in a game, it’s just different; arrow keys to move, a-s-d-f to use inventory items, and e to interact with the environment keeps everything simple. Players are given a series of large ‘overworld’ areas that contain portals to individual puzzles that most often need to be overcome by finding the tool to reach the weapon to kill the Grays. From the far-zoomed-out top-down camera angle you get a good view of the level and can spend some time planning your strategy before taking it on, and the quick respawn process makes trial and error a valid approach. At least, in these levels it is valid; progress is only saved when progress is made, meaning that if you spend a lot of time backtracking through multiple maps of the overworld just to fall down a bottomless pit one too many times, you’ll come back around where your last completed level is. In the mine-themed level, this became a real pain in my behind, since those pits are far too plentiful.

You’re given time at the start of each level to search for Grays and weapons before you can move. “The danger begins when you take your first step…”

Shattered Haven is a difficult game to deal with. I managed to get four hours of playthrough before calling it quits, and in that time I defeated a ‘boss’ level and received one of nine… somethings… that are apparently spread through the game, so one could induce that the game’s got a neat run-time. Provided you can power through the inhibiting and inconsistent gameplay, maybe you are one of those people that could enjoy this neat run-time. I am not.

Which isn’t to say that Shattered Haven is a terrible game. It isn’t. There’s fun to be had and challenges to defeat that’ll make y’all feel great, but these don’t make up for some overwhelming faults that make certain levels feel unbeatable and others a total drag. When I said the game is “difficult to deal with”, I didn’t mean that the puzzles are too hard (although sometimes that is the case). I mean ‘difficult’ in the same way as you talk about a ‘difficult’ child; annoying.

Tasks which players should be able to work out for themselves (such as using an axe to chop down trees or a match to set fire to dead wood) are explained away quite blatantly on signposts (the presence of which can sometimes not be logically explained), while the more troublesome are not given any hints whatsoever. Too many times I felt hopeless as I ran around huge levels searching for the one person I hadn’t yet talked to or one house I hadn’t broken into to find the one piece of equipment necessary to progress. At one point I found a well-sought after purple key by accidentally walking into a hidden pathway in a wall.  Though I was relieved to finally find this damned key I would have preferred it if I earned it in any way other than just walking into the correct piece of wall, and had there been any sort of hint that this pathway existed I wouldn’t been as mad as I am.

“I heard shouting outside and needed to run.” Also apparently didn’t have time to take this gem, but did have time to write out this note? Uh huh.

As for the characters–they’re not great. They’re just not interesting. It isn’t that the dialogue is written poorly, just that most of it feels inappropriately placed. The conversations that go down would make perfect sense if they were between formal-talking academics over lunch, but sound awfully out of place coming out of the mouths of survivors of a zombie apocalypse, especially when there’s supposed to be a sense of urgency (e.g. “The likelihood seems rather small”. Really? Not “That’s unlikely”?). Embrace the contraction, please! The voice-acting is also short of captivating, and sounds far too lax for the situations at hand. I mean, seriously, there’s zombies and stuff. C’mon.

I was moderately interested in how the game put reason behind each of my actions, and that’s why I flipped out when it tried to pull this crap. (Click the pic to zoom-in, please)

Shattered Haven provides fun maze-focused puzzle challenges (amongst some not-so-fun maze-focused puzzle challenges) with this ‘overworld’ hub and narrative designed to string together the illogical idea of entering a level and killing Grays just to leave, without really achieving anything. Arcen Games want you to enter each portal and beat each of their puzzles (which are fairly diverse for the most part), but can’t think of a reason why you should (apart from ‘because the evil guy said so’). The music is haunting and moving yet has a poor loop sequence and very frequently becomes bothersome, while the art style works well for the strategy-infused action-puzzle maze game that is Shattered Haven, though sometimes makes it hard to distinguish between traversable ground and sheer walls/bottomless pits (well, it is 2D). The inconsistent level of difficulty ultimately makes this a difficult game to bear, but this isn’t quite a deal-breaker. Take into account its price and you might find it worth your time, even if you end up rage-quitting.

Like I did.

6.5

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Shattered Haven by Arcen Games.

Very few games have polarised gamers as much as the first Dead Space managed to when it was released back in 2008. Despite receiving mostly praise from critics, Dead Space had the unfortunate timing of being released in the middle of one of the most disappointing eras for horror gaming, as the genre mutated from orthodox survival horror into a more action-oriented jump-fest. The series’ first instalment managed to successfully retain the all-important atmosphere from golden age survival horror games while introducing a far more action-packed combat system than the genre was known for, however came under significant criticism for being mundane and repetitive in every aspect.

Following Dead Space was my personal favourite in the series, the rails shooter Dead Space: Extraction. The franchise never matched the frantic nature of attempting to constantly refill your limited ammunition supply than it did in this initially Wii exclusive title. Then came Dead Space 2, and with it a noticeable focus on becoming an action series. Despite this, the sophomore entry successfully managed to provide an enjoyable genre blend without alienating fans of either side of the spectrum.

And now we have Dead Space 3, likely the revered franchise’s final numbered instalment. Why are producers so afraid of releasing a game numbered past 3? Regardless, Dead Space 3 represented a chance for Visceral Games to fully embrace the thousands of horror fans screaming for a revival of their favourite genre. Instead of that, however, the end result of approximately eighteen months of development is a title that is not quite horror, but not quite action–Dead Space 3 resides floundering in the brown, murky waters of mediocrity.

Yay for stock screenshots!

Given that this is the third entry in a series heavily steeped in lore and backstory, it goes without saying that getting into Dead Space 3 without having played (or at least knowing the plots of) the previous two numbered instalments would be a tough task. After a brief alarmingly militaristic prologue on the ice-planet Tau Volantis, you will again take control of engineer Isaac Clarke three years and a relationship after the conclusion of Dead Space 2. Then something happens, then something else happens–I’m not saying this to avoid giving you any spoilers, I genuinely can’t remember what happened. The entire plot becomes very convoluted very quickly. One thing I do know for certain is that people in the world of Dead Space are extremely keen on wistfully looking at and stroking photographs of their loved ones.

Not long after this, Isaac and some NPCs (and co-op partner John Carver, if you’re playing with a pal) find themselves on Tau Volantis after tracing a signal from something. The ice-planet makes for a great, original location for the action, as limited vision enhances the feeling of suspense that Dead Soace 3 is otherwise lacking. There’s a large amount of uninteresting inter-personal drama going on regarding Isaac and Ellie’s broken relationship, which feels alarmingly out of place in a franchise that made a name for itself on the pure isolation of the protagonist. Isaac wasn’t an interesting character in the previous two games in the series, and he’s still not interesting. At all.

People talking about stuff.

That said, the one thing that I was ready to criticise Dead Space 3 for prior to even playing it was its inclusion of a co-operative mode. No way, I thought, horror simply can’t work in co-op. As far as I was concerned, the lack of isolation would result in a serious lack of atmosphere. I was delighted to be proven wrong. In Dead Space 3, the co-op campaign far outshines the drab single-player mode, only really held back by the lack of a drop-in/drop-out feature (what is this, 2004?)

For what might be the very first time in a game not focussed specifically on co-op play, the two-player campaign is an amazing addition to the title without seeming tacked on or significantly detracting from the single player campaign. Impressively, the horror is even enhanced when compared to the solo outing–it may not be as tense or suspenseful, but the atmosphere has more of an effect when there’s someone to share it with. As was heavily promoted when the feature was first announced, the player taking the role of Carver will occasionally encounter objects that are non-existent from  Clarke’s point of view. Unfortunately, this means that you won’t encounter the full depth of story if you don’t play with a friend, which is a shame for those people who, like me, prefer to focus on the single-player campaign.

Trampling in the path of the footsteps of its predecessors, Dead Space 3 has ensured that the Dead Space label will be forever synonymous with repetitive, mundane gameplay full of backtracking and overcomplicated storylines. Despite being quite a lengthy campaign, you’ll only feel like you’ve actually played about three or four hours of unique gameplay, with the remainder being stale drivel. Even the Necromorphs are far less interesting this time around, as they are only truly threatening in swarms which is also when they are the least scary. In previous Dead Space games, Necromorphs were deadly even just one-on-one, particularly if one had taken you by surprise and you struggled lining up shots to cut off their limbs. This time around you’ll likely end up shoving hordes of the spindly monsters off of you before mowing them down.

Where Dead Space 1 and 2 both brought something new to the franchise, Dead Space 3 falls flat, relying on the success of its predecessors. The main campaign of this lacklustre instalment is truly not worth playing at all, as even the sense of closure that it was supposed to bring to the overarching story is disappointingly absent. The co-op mode is somewhat enjoyable, and provides a little extra information plot-wise, but it’s hardly worth picking up the game solely for what is essentially a little-more-than-mediocre third-person shooter and not really a Dead Space game. If there’s one feature that Dead Space 3 can be proud of, it’s the fantastically open weapon customisation, and yet, regardless of how much fun it is to create your own plasma cutter, it’s just another of the factors that have moved Dead Space 3 almost completely away from the horror genre. And let’s not even start on the micro-transactions.

Dead Space 3 is the weakest game in the franchise, by miles. Even passionate fans won’t be able to avoid feeling a bit let down by this one. What begun life as a terrifying survival horror series has been the most recent victim in the latest line of EA’s bastardised niche-into-triple-A franchises. Unless you’re in the mood for a mediocre third-person shooter, you will probably want to give this one a miss.

6.9

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Dead Space 3 by EA Games.

Sniper: Ghost Warrior, released in 2010, was a pretty bad game. I’ve heard it was fixed up a bit in post-release patches, but I only ever played the as-of-release game, and it was bad. Terrible voice acting (apart from the venerable Nolan North though, of course), unimpressive graphics, unconvincing AI, and an underwhelming storyline were shoved down players throats, with a hint of enjoyable sniping antics. Three years later we’re here with a sequel, supposedly a “ground-breaking follow up to the best-selling sniper game of all time”. Not that reviewers’ scores mean everything, but a quick Google search will show you that sales do not correlate with quality, and I wouldn’t be surprised if SGW2 also made a whole lot of money for City Interactive, even though their latest instalment is equally as “meh” as the last.

This guy’s super surprised about the bullet in the sternum. Lucky this bullet cam caught his mad pose!

Sniper: Ghost Warrior 2 suffers from awfully linear gameplay, even more so than even our typically renowned linear titles such as the Half Life and Call of Duty series. The single-player campaigns of these other games offer a single progression of area after area containing challenges (often baddies of varying difficulty), but how these challenges are overcome is usually up to the player to decide. Okay, so I took cover to the left last time and I died pretty easily, so I guess this time I’ll try going right, and I’ll take out that big guy first. That sort of thing.

In SGW2 we are told how to go about killing all the guys, even having it announced to us in what order they should be eliminated. Sure, it’s still fun to do the shooty shooty gun gun stuff, but surely still it would be more enjoyable to analyse the situation and work it all out on one’s own. It’s like doing a crossword when you already have a list of all the answers. Those things exist, and they’re called fill-in crosswords. They are dumb.

There are a couple of levels when players are free to roam about the unkempt garden of possibilities, but in most cases there is only a single way that is meant to be done, lest guards be immediately alarmed and aware of your specific location. Which is a whole other issue. When playing games from ‘back in the day’, those nostalgia-ridden classics, there are some issues that you see so obviously and think to yourself “well, I can’t be annoyed with that since this is such an old game!” and you can easily choose to overlook them. When you’re playing a game that was released in March of 2013 and you still find empty rooms of absolutely no significance (why was the level designed this way???), voice acting that would be more appropriate for a children’s cartoon and, of course, guards that immediately know where you are, it is so much harder to turn a blind eye and enjoy the title. That’s something that just shouldn’t be happening anymore.

I really didn’t like the graphics of SGW2, but I did play the Xbox 360 version. Maybe it’s worth checking out the modern-day technology PC version. My capture device isn’t great either so these screenshots are a bit cruddy. Watchu gonna do ’bout it?

What I mean by the level design is that it seems nothing has been thought through. Particularly in the multiplayer maps (of which there are an unimpressive two)–I’ve spent a whole lot of time running down a hallway to find two empty rooms that lead nowhere. Why do these rooms exist? They’re not decent camping spots since you can’t see anything from them, and it’s not like you need to hide in there. If something doesn’t have any impact on how the game is played, why bother having it there at all?

SGW2 has at least one claim to superiority over the abundance of sniper-based games I’ve played in recent times. In many of these, players are essentially forced to devote some time to wielding an assault rifle just like in any other shooter and that’s how it tends to feel; like any other shooter. This is totally omitted in SGW2 (the “complete sniper experience”, as the cover boasts), with your sniper rifle and ever-present secondary pistol as your only weapons. Apparently you use a bunch of different snipers throughout the campaign, which I never noticed, but at least time wasn’t wasted on working assault rifles and shotguns into the game since they would have been entirely unappealing anyway (see: any sniper-based game ever).

You can see at the top of the HUD the wind speed and direction and distance from the target, so you can aim to compensate for all that. Or you can just line up the red circle with the baddie’s head. Playing on expert difficulty omits this circle so a big hooray for actual difficulty!

As mentioned, there is multiplayer, and unlike most multiplayer shooters, camping is what SGW2 is all about. You find a match, you pick one of any identical sniper rifles, find a place to hide amongst your team’s building/area, and stare out at the enemies identical building/area, playing a perpetual game of Where’s Wally. And just hope that Wally doesn’t blow your brains out before you spot him. The rifle’s lens flare is the easiest give-away to enemy location, but the constant flickering of the textures sets off a bunch of false alarms in my head. “Gotcha! Wait no, that’s a windowsill. Ah-ha! Oh wait no, that’s another windowsill.”

People are often sceptical of FPS multiplayer, arguing the experience lacks in diversity. Seriously, you do not know lack of diversity until you have played SGW’s attempt. It can be edge-of-your-seat adrenalin-pumping goodness, but only for seconds at a time, with minutes of waiting (im)patiently for anything to happen between these moments. All credit to City for not attempting to include a stock standard multiplayer mode, but it just ends up being a bit average.

Running for about four hours, the single-player campaign is less than impressive, even with the low expectations set by its predecessor in mind. The overarching story is just another case of a weapon of mass destruction gone missing, but what bothers me most are the characters we are forced to endure. Apart from the unintentionally comical authority figure that barks orders over a radio in his terribly over-the-top voice, every character wants so desperately to be the cool, cynical soldier that’s “just doing his job”. This leads to some head-scratchingly dull conversations that just run in circles and contain a whole lot of inconsistencies, and overuse and misuse of terms FUBAR and SNAFU. I get it, you’re a military dude. And you don’t like the man. Great.

These loading screens. No more, please.

Overall I’d have to say SGW2 delivers some enjoyable sniper-based gameplay–then again, so do many other games I’ve played recently. It has its worthwhile moments, but everything peripheral to the fairly smooth-running gameplay is a huge let-down. My last note, these games need to stop using the Call of Duty-ised loading screen between levels. It looked alright when it was used the first few times. Now it’s just dull, like the fill-in crossword.

Sniper: Ghost Warrior 2–the fill-in crossword of first person shooters.

5.5

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Sniper: Ghost Warrior 2 by QV Software on behalf of City Interactive.

Medal Wars: Keiser’s Revenge is a game. In this game, players left-click where they want to move, and left-click on what they want to shoot, and left-click on what they want to hit with a melee attack, and left-click on what they want to pick up. They also right-click to reload. Although this simplicity means I can eat an ice-block while playing and still play fairly successfully, it causes some pretty persistent gameplay issues. Beyond that, players are given some crude, vaguely amusing humour and an apparently deliberately pointless narrative. So… cool?

So this is how most of your eight-hour endeavour will transpire. Blam-blam-blam-dead. Repeat.

To give as general an overview of MW: KR as I can, I’ll say that it’s a 2D isometric shooter set in a fictional war between the Green Army and the Black Army, parallel to World War I. It’s basically yet another WWI game, minus the pertinent Germanophobia. The only reference to nationality is the jargon used by your protagonist (which by the way, you name. Nice touch.), with terms such as “cor”, “blimey” and “bloody” implying that he is a lower class English soldier. This is of course done over the top in a painfully obvious way, as always. Yes, I get it; there are things that British people stereotypically say that other people don’t.

The same goes for much of the humour in MW: KR. Initially it’s interesting to see a game throw in a bit of old-fashioned easy going toilet humour, with fart and underpants jokes all round, and enemies comically clutching at shot-apart feet and all screaming the same over-done scream. Soon enough though, it all becomes tedious. Especially when you have to re-kill baddies after dying just before the end of an area, the gore of it all becomes unrewarding and very same-y.

Oh… sorry.

It’s also a pain in the ass to not be able to shoot and move at the same time. A terribly out-of-place stealth mission was ruined for me since it is impossible to select to “melee this bad guy”. Instead, your protagonist will shoot him or (if you have no firearm equipped) pretend to shoot him. To melee an enemy you need to left click right next to him, wait until your character has moved to that position and stopped, then left click the baddie himself, and hope you are in range for the melee attack. It’s also likely that during this debacle he’ll turn around and force you to restart the mission. Good times.

This is only the case in one level though, and for most of the game you are right to blast away any baddie in your way, though tackling multiple enemies at once is hella-difficult since every time you shoot at a single baddie you stand still, putting yourself in danger of being shot by all the other baddies. This is only a real issue in the final act, but it’s enough to put me off actually finishing the game.

Ooooh, sick burn! (Also note the poor use of punctuation. This is persistent.)

Boss fights are inserted at the end of each act and are actually sort of fun, even if just because they are a change of pace from the usual muddled-up gameplay. Shooting-range sections precede these fights, and although they are nothing new to the gaming world, the need to be accurate and fast in these sections mixes up the gameplay and is very much appreciated, since any sort of accuracy while using the clumsy left-clicking to move and shoot guys is unimaginable. I know, I keep coming back to it, but it really is very clumsy.

There a whole bunch of collectibles to attain in the game, ranging from medals award for killing this number of baddies or breaking all the bottles on Pebble Beach, to semi-pornographic collector’s cards of scantily-dressed ladies. Goodie. The only question I have for this entire element to the game is why? I kind of understand why there is a shop; you can buy bigger and/or better guns and upgrade them, sure. But why do we care about pervert-Harry’s card collection? Are we supposed to want to source him some fresh material for his alone time? I sure don’t.

I’m pretty sure Kaiser is misspelt deliberately, like Keiser is the guy’s name. I hope so, anyway…

So we find Medal Wars: Keiser’s Revenge somewhere in that forest of games that we can tell quite obviously have had a lot of effort put into them, with an ultimate lack of polish bringing down the experience. We do have to consider as to whether that was totally intentional in this case though, of course  The demo for MW: KR was undeniably excellent–the first act is actually a whole ball of fun. Enemies come up to three at a time, but are easily defeated. Easy doesn’t usually mean enjoyable, but it does here. So yeah, try it out! As long as you won’t be offended by a bit of slightly sexist and racist comments.

6.8

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Medal Wars: Keiser’s Revenge by Retro Army.

The argument of whether something is a “game” or not is one that will rage for as long as our medium exists. What makes a “game”? The game I’m looking at today, Proteus, has fed more fuel to the fire than any new release for some time. Proteus starts the player off in a vast ocean with only the faintest view of an island on the horizon. Upon planting feet upon the island’s sandy shore, music starts. That’s all there is to it, really–Proteus is a procedural music generator that provides no goal to the player except to explore.

Proteus has not a word of text, nor a line of dialogue–it’s sort of a sandbox. It’s what a stress ball would be, if a stress ball was a game. A stress ball that plays music as you squeeze it, of course. It’s an opportunity for the player to simply relax and explore one of the most charming environments I’ve ever seen in a video game. Rocks sing, trees hum, and music creates itself as you move across the island.

Witnessing a meteor shower was one of the many amazing discoveries I made during my first playthrough.

One of the first things you’ll likely do in Proteus is climb to the top of the highest peak you can see. It’s what I did first, anyway. As you ascend the mountain, the music will deepen and slow to match up with your walking pace decreasing. At the peak, nearly all sounds remove themselves, leaving you with just subtle synthesised wind noises and the odd musical track. Finally, as you descend the mountain, first passing the snow cap and then through the grass, passing the greens, pinks, and oranges of the foliage, the music picks up to keep up with you. All sorts of instruments introduce themselves to provide you with a soaring, hectic soundtrack as you tumble down the mountain. And then, fittingly, as you come to a stop at the mountain’s foot, the music returns to its original soothing nature.

For a game in which exploration is such a central element, it is crucial that exploring the island is actually fun. Thankfully it is. Not in the way that you’re used to experiencing in video games, however–this is a form of fun that feels totally unique in our medium. It’s not quite created by the user à la Minecraft, but it’s also not planned as happens in most other games. No, Proteus‘ limited interactivity ensures that the only option available to the player is to explore every nook and cranny on the island.

The idea of relaxation is one supported by every aspect of Proteus. The music’s tendency to provide a dynamic soundtrack for your actions is oddly soothing; even the colour palette, which would be much more at home in an Atari 2600 game, adds to give the player a feeling of familiarity and comfort.

Sometimes all you feel like doing is reaching a high vantage point and enjoying the view.

While it doesn’t necessarily feature a “goal”, Proteus still has a distinct beginning and end–it’s up to the player to decide what happens in the middle. Even if you’re not really enjoying it in the earlier sections of the game, however, I’d still recommend you keep at it all the way to the conclusion. At risk of giving too much away, in Proteus you’ll get to see the island at it is in all four seasons, after which you’ll think that one of the buttons on your keyboard is stuck. In any case, it’s absolutely something worth experiencing. That said, there doesn’t seem to be a way of turning off the ending totally and just playing an endless mode (unless I’m just not looking in the right place? Always a possibility.)

Despite all this seeming praise, however, I came out of Proteus unsure of one key factor. Did I actually enjoy it? I truly couldn’t decide. On one hand, Proteus is full of little things to discover and has a cute, whimsical feel throughout. Conversely, upon completing one playthrough, I had no motivation or desire whatsoever to return to the island, feeling as though I’d seen what there was to be seen in just one run through. That might not be the case. There might be all sorts of hidden secrets that I am yet to uncover, but that’s not the point–the significant fact here is that I didn’t want to play it again, and for a game that takes about half an hour (at most) to get through, that’s not a good thing.

Admittedly, the islands are procedurally generated to ensure that each playthrough will be unique, but let’s take a minute to discuss whether a different arrangement of the same geographic features is deserving of that description. I accept that each island will be different from the one before it, but the differences aren’t noticeable enough to warrant playing Proteus repeatedly.

The islands are unique to each playthrough, but they’re all so similar that it’s disappointingly difficult to notice that they’re different at all.

The player’s primary goal (so to speak) in Proteus is to enjoy themselves. It’s about as relaxing as a game can get. And if that’s what you’re in the mood for, then Proteus is a game that shouldn’t be overlooked. It just offers very, very little to anyone who is after more than a way to kill half an hour. Unlike other short games (see: Thirty Flights of Loving), Proteus instilled no motivation in me to replay it multiple times immediately after finishing, nor did it compel me to discuss it with other people. Is it a “game”? I don’t think so–that word brings with it certain expectations that simply aren’t fulfilled here. That’s not to say it hasn’t got its own kind of charm, but if we don’t distinguish these sorts of titles from traditional games, then all we’re doing is narrowing their potential audience.

Proteus is interesting, by all means, but not necessarily “good”. Innovation and uniqueness, while worthwhile qualities for any title to have, aren’t definite precursors to enjoyment. Next time I get the urge to explore a beautiful landscape, I’ll definitely be loading up Skyrim or Minecraft. This is a game that I enjoyed for about ten minutes–after that, it was, quite simply, boring.

5.0

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Proteus by Ed Key & David Kanaga.

Crysis 3 is a pretty game. I’m just gonna come out and open with that, since it is (tragically) the most important element of Crytek’s latest addition to the series that is renowned for being, well, very pretty (for those that can afford the hardware, at least). Yet once again, the series pushes PCs and consoles to the infamous point of turning down the settings to compensate for lag without changing the gameplay formula too much, while still managing to miss some mark that only the original Crysis really hit for me. It’s fun, yes, but it just feels like there’s an opportunity upon which Crytek just haven’t capitalized.

The gameplay of Crysis 3 feels just the same as it appears in any of the 7 Wonders trailers, with your regular FPS firefights spiced up with a dash of superhuman speed and strength, plus the ability to activate invisibility or armour modes. This has remained constant throughout the series, though was simplified for Crysis 2 to be more streamlined which is how it is now in the third. The iconic nanosuit works as a truly epic weapon, but levels are not designed in such a way to allow players to create seriously satisfying havoc. Though there are often about a dozen enemies in a given area to use the nanosuit’s abilities to muck around with, these areas tend not to be the wide open areas seen in the first entry to the series; the player is often bound by environments consisting of catwalks and narrow buildings, making levels feel more linear than they need to be and ruling out any opportunity to use one’s imagination on the battlefield. Considering there is hardly a more perfect tool to use experimentally, the reluctance to allow players to do so makes me awfully sad.

Stock screenshots! Yay!

Some effort has been put into the character storylines of Crysis 3, but it doesn’t really pay off in any satisfying way. Throughout the campaign, certain plot developments are made as dramatic as possible but the personalities of characters are never really enjoyable to listen to, so I honestly never gave a damn. The writing for each character is painfully superficial and typical, and every conversation runs the same course. Sidekick Psycho’s dialogue consists almost entirely of barely relevant phrases and painfully cheeky remarks that have only ever been said in British gangster films (don’t get me wrong, I love Guy Ritchie), and his more emotional exclamations are brimming with unnecessary curse words. In any cutscene you’ll hear discussion of whether protagonist Prophet is more human than machine/alien, which rarely develops beyond that. Here’s a prime example of the last two sentences; “You might as well be a fucking machine because you sure as hell ain’t no human bein’ anymore.” Deep.

The overall story of the title seems to have taken even less effort to write, and could easily be summarized in a single paragraph (though I’ve been told I’m not allowed to say certain things so that won’t be happening here). Too often I realised after fighting to reach a particular objective that I had no idea why I was doing so. I made an effort to watch all cutscenes and listen to all dialogue, but I couldn’t understand why anything was happening until after said thing happened, at which point I’d say “Ohhh so we had to break the dam to stop the bad guys from… having… power? Makes sense, I guess”. This is pretty irritating, but it’s fairly common in FPS titles nowadays so it gets a reluctant pass.

The multiplayer side of Crysis 3 is… average. That word is actually very suitable. The whole system works well enough, with customisation identical to more popular multiplayer franchises, and a variety of maps and game modes which you would expect.  These game modes provide only slight differences to gameplay, with shooting dudes always being the priority, and most of Crysis 3’s multiplayer is ultimately forgettable; you won’t be missing much if you never swing by. “Hunter”, the game mode that Crytek appeared to be so proud of post-launch is the one interesting aspect of multiplayer, with chosen players given unlimited stealth, the famed Predator Bow and the objective to convert the rest of the players to their side by shooting them with said bow. It adds a bit of a twist to the Infected-style mode that is popular in every multiplayer shooter ever, but doesn’t warrant giving multiplayer a real shot. So back to the single player campaign.

The campaign, typical of current triple-A titles, lasts barely a few hours, and I’d estimate up to about 8 hours on higher difficulties (sidenote: the number of difficulties in this game is too damn high). Although the review thus far has been fairly negative, I should make it clear that Crysis 3 can be a load of fun. It is tainted by thoughts of how it could be better, but there are some certain fights that I can recall as being downright fun, and how anyone could not laugh at the animation of maximum-strength-punching aliens in the face I will never understand. The Predator Bow (or is it Compound Bow, I’ve seen both names..) is actually a real blast (especially with the explosive tips. Ha-ha, see what I did there?), delivering some genuinely fun yet accurate kills. Crysis 3‘s bow is probably the most useful and intuitive I’ve used in any recent title, so I guess it gets bonus points for that.

Crysis 3, another case of maximum graphics, abysmal storyline, and somewhere-in-between gameplay, is mostly enjoyable in that it reminds me of the original Crysis which was a damned awesome and relatively innovative title. If updated graphics and some disappointingly run-of-the-mill gameplay will impress you, then the latest from EA will also be up with their greatest. For anyone looking for a little more, maybe wait for something else. Or anything else.

6.7

Select Start Media was provided with a review copy of Crysis 3 by EA Games.