Bo17

Penny Arcade: On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness: Episode Two

As far as sequels go in video games, it has become commonplace to label them unworthy of the publicity they arouse based on the lack of advancement. Put simply, if a game is too similar to it's predecessor, many will cite how they feel an 'upgrade' of the first game would have been more suitable. Some deluxe edition made to iron out kinks or simply generate a higher income for the developers. So with Penny Arcade Adventures, should we deem the game a sequel proper, or a fleshed out upgrade?
It's something of a mixed bag.

Something made evident in Episode One was that although the gameplay mechanics and RPG elements were strong enough to hold the game together, the real star was the sense of humour (akin to the comic-strip upon which the games are based) and the absurd story to accompany it. In a sense, that was also Episode One's biggest weakness in terms of potential sales: it's niche audience was and is very much a niche and as such widespread acclaim and purchases are instantly limited. However, Episode One was recognised as a game tailor made for that limited audience and Episode Two is no different, from the crazed plot to the tweaks made in gameplay. It's evident that the designers listened to feedback and have been working hard to ensure this saga stays appealing to those buying.

The general outline of the game is that your custom made character is rebuilding his home when Tycho and Gabe, hot on the heels of another adventure, literally come crashing into your home. From then on, it's a mad cycle of revenge, old friendships and timed attack based fighting up until an absurdly thrilling climax. The jokes are retain the wit and cruidty of the comic strip and a significant amount of work seems to have been put into the execution of the frequent cut-scenes which are timed perfectly to pull off the most lucritively silly scenarios in a fashion that, providing you are a member of the aforementioned niche audience, should leave you chuckling away.
The animation is slick and although the graphics are of an identical calibre to Episode One, the experience feels less overwhelming and more like a return to an old pair of slippers, albeit a pair you don't wear often enough. Although a few portions of the script will not be understood unless you have played the prior Episode, they're usually exercised tactfully enough for anyone to laugh at the execution of the joke itself.
The most gripping let-down of the story element is the sudden influx of newly introduced characters whom you never really get a chance to know. In Episode One, you came to appreciate each secondary persona as you spent time talking to them in order to figure out how to complete their missions, but here there are a lot of characters introduced solely to play their part in the story. One scene, set in a science conference, for instance, introduces plenty of new and potentially interesting characters who are never fleshed out beyond the role they play in the objective. As the story pans out, you begin to understand the necessity of the characters themselves, but might find yourself wishing you'd learnt more about them.

The gameplay itself is nearly identical to the first game, bar a few subtle changes. Blocks now seem easier to time and the inclusion of the word 'Block' on the enemies HP bar at the appropriate time can save a great deal of frustration. It's somewhat odd to consider how much that one split second can matter in a battle, but it truly does give the game a whole new sensation of life.
Another new element is the difficulty settings, which were completely absent from Episode One. You're given the opportunity to choose a difficulty setting for the battles, which may come as a relief to those who skipped Episode One. Also, once you've completed the game once, you're given the opportunity to play again, this time on the Insane Difficulty level.
The game is littered with additional content to tinker with, whether it be artwork, characters or just little bits and bobs you'll miss the first time around. Although many will simply view them as a nice little extra, hardcore fans could have a lot of fun trying to complete the game with a 100% rating of completion on insane difficulty.
The only real problem with the gameplay is the final battle which comes across as a little too easy. Granted, I played it on the standard Normal setting but after a game that was easy to pick up, yet challenging when I got into it, the final boss felt like a bit of a cop-out. It certainly doesn't kill the experience, although it certainly left me wanting a little bit more. I suppose that's their trick in the tail to ensure I come running back for Episode Three, but in all fairness, I was sold on Episode Three after 10 minutes with this game.

So as we close, the question remains: is this really an Episode Two, or is at a 1.5?
Based on the story, it's certainly a 2, however on the gameplay front, it's a 1.5. So what's the discerning factor to set it straight?
Well, there isn't one really. This is an Episode Two, a second part rather than a sequel in it's own right. That's the beauty of episodic gaming: To find your element and stick with it throughout, making minor patches and imporvements along the way, rather than trying to reach a revolutionary breakthrough in game design and whilst Penny Arcade has stuck with their element so far, they seem to have perfected the art of merging their own style of gameplay with their own brand of humour.

I'm a coward. Seriously. I am such a coward. And games like these probably don't help. The weird thing is, I was a coward before I played scary games and the more I delved into it, I realised that the thing about them that scared me most was that they simulated dreams that have been freaking me out for a solid decade. Either these developers are probing my brain each night, or I'm an undiscovered prophet.
I'm still not sure which.

Condemned is quite frankly, messed up. I'm sorry that I'm not breaching the limits of literary excellence here, but the general horror that such a game has managed to evoke has left me in a state that even thinking about it puts dissolves my vocabulary to that of a Californian stoner dude. It's messed up and that might be what makes it so fulfilling. The enemy here is not some mindless zombie (although it does come close). It's not some trained militia veteran, or the police. It's not somebody who you can keep at arms length. It's psychosis, pure and undiluted. Like some kind of infection, people are going crazy. The homeless prowl the streets and ransack houses, fighting each other, and killing anyone unlucky enough to come near them. Unfortunately, their main target is going to be you, Ethan Thomas. Usually, Ethan lives in a comfortable apartment and lives out his life in an interesting, albeit safe job investigating crime scenes. But, thanks to what appears to be sheer bad luck, everything gets turned on it's head for Ethan and he finds himself on the run.

Something worth mentioning in advance, is the script, both story wise, and gameplay wise. The story itself, although seemingly very cliché-ridden manages to develop into something truly horrifying and deep. The finalé in particular turns out to be very true to the genre, and is sort of strange in that I felt like I was watching a Hollywood movie, but I was playing it. It's an odd experience, especially due to some of the artistic choices regarding that finale. As well as that, the story is riddled with metaphors that could leave you wandering about the very notion of the game you've played for days.
The script in terms of gameplay is nothing short of masterly. The tension rises and falls in accordance to the atmosphere all around you and overall, the game feels more like Silent Hill than any other survival horror game. Most of the fear is completely misplaced as you wander, axe raised throughout abandoned schools and subway stations. There are some great jumps as you lower your guard only for some screaming maniac to come flying towards you or spraying a flock of bullets all looking to replace your face.

The gameplay itself can feel a litle rusty. In retrospect, it's probably because Monolith was not particularly experienced at creating first person beat-em-ups, which shows particularly when compared to Condemned 2. The latter really manages to settle in the crunch of a strike, whereas Condemned: Criminal Origins' impacts can feel a little loose.

One main criticism is that the game can seem a little heavyhanded with the difficulty at time, and on occasion you can't help but think it's all a little uneven, though the auto-save feature (which appears to jump into practise every 15 seconds) more than makes up for this. The boss battles in particular are what really got me riled, but it's mostly a case of trying again and eventually you should get it right.

Overall, I suppose I can't blame the game for making me a coward. I was a coward to begin with, and if anything Condemneds atmosphere, realism and general freak-out factor is going to harden me. Although it certainly scares me (a lot more than I'm comfortable with) as a member of the Survival Horror Genre, it more than meets expectations and is a game I can certainly see myself playing through again.

Prepare yourself: I will not be kind in this review, but I will be honest. As you've probably discerned from the star rating, I did not like this game, but I have my reasons. Well, reason. But I still find myself thinking it's a good reason. Maybe you'll agree, maybe you won't. But hear me out.
As Oblivion opens, you find yourself panning over a wide kingdom, vast and deep. The world is epic, beautiful and prestinely rendered. Make no mistakes when I say this, Oblivion is a game with scope and energy. It evokes a feel that few other games manage to capture, but evidently that is not a skill a game can rely upon.
After a painstakingly obscure character selection process, where I was asked to create my character whilst the entire time I had no idea whether anything I did would make any difference at all to what my abilities were, my avatar was witness to a king making his way through my cell (apparently I'm a prisoner) and out of the castle through a hidden dungeon as it is made evident he is under attack. Battling through this dungeon for the better part of an hour, I found myself completely lost, following instructions blindly and killing enemies just because they looked bad. Instantly, this came to show me that flashy camera angles and serene scenery doesn't make a good experience alone. I cannot recall just how many times I found myself stuck within the dungeon but it was too many for me to feel comfortable, I remember that much. As the tale progressed, I followed ever blindly, surrounded by dank and dark stone, the tombs of ancient ancestors. Suddenly the king was dead, but I no longer cared. If his death resulted in my release from the dungeon, it seems it was something I was happy with, but it was yet another 15 minutes until I was out of the dungeon.
And at this point I was out. The bright sky blinded me, the cool crystal lakes clashed with the evident heat of the sun and the landscape looked enormous. Too enormous. I'm pretty sure I was told where to go, and when I checked my map, I couldn't figure out where it was. I'm pretty sure I was told I could quickly jump to where I needed to be, but I couldn't figure out how. I'm pretty sure, the developers intended their vast open world to be technically impressive, a marvel but after 10 minutes of stabbing a unicorn, I was just pissed off I'd even bought the game at all. So much so that I put down my controller, turned off my Playstation and went to watch a film.
Some might think me harsh, unfair and it's completely logical to draw those conclusions. From what I saw, the story looked like it had potential to grow into something strong (even if the plot that had thus far progressed had done so somewhat poorly) and the game itself is a masterpiece of what can be stored on a disc.
That said, however, this isn't a review for a storage device, this is a review for a game and Oblivion is not a very good game. There may be many different modes of combat present, but whenever a new method of fighting (or any new skill at all) makes itself present it is done so abruptly to the extent that there is no level of time for you to acknowledge how to put it into effect. The world is vast and gameplay time is said to be well over 100 hours to complete the story mode but quality over quantity has always been a theory I've endorsed thoroughly.
I think the best way I can sum up Oblivion is by [para]quoting Ben 'Yahtzee' Croshaw:
"If a game starts out bad, it's safe to assume that that's how it's going to progress."

Condemned 2: Bloodshot
Xbox 360

It takes a messed up mind to compare a game such as Condemned 2 to the classic feel good TV show Happy Days, but I think we'll get there. Happy Days was famous for being great, but infamous for an utterly ridiculous scene towards the end of it's run in which the figure of awesomeness personified as The Fonz jumped over a shark whilst water ski-ing. Not that I mean to demean a power as great as The Fonz, but not even I can overlook such blatant silliness. Ever since, when a franchise has run it's course and begun resorting to absurd ideas, it has been known as Jumping the Shark, and remains one of the most feared criticisms that can be lashed against a television show or film. It kind of pains me to admit that now it's a term that game developers should fear...

Condemned 2 is for the most part a superb game. It recognises it's own brutality and doesn't attempt to make any excuses about it's content. It's cold, stark murder you'll be comitting whilst you traverse the world as Ethan Thomas and you'll be unleashing the Angel of Death upon a whole plethora of foes in the most agonisingly gritty fashion that you could imagine. Whilst games such as GTA cower behind their low brow sarcastic humour, Condemned fully recognises that it can be deeply darkly funny without uttering one stupid sentence, more often than not letting the action itself do the talking. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's recoup.
In Condemned 2, you play as Ethan Thomas, Ex-Serial Crimes Unit officer who after being accused of murder (and eventually aquitted) left the force and become an alcoholic homeless person suffering from horrible visions. Someone you know dies and just like that, you're back in the action and this is where the bliss lies. One of the key points of Condemned 2 is that it makes no bones about the action; guns have sparse ammo, you'll be relying on your fists frequently in a style reminiscent of a no-holds barred non licensed boxing match and of course, when it's you or them, anything is an asset, which is where the aforementioned humour comes in. Theoretically, you could go through the game with your wooden planks and your electric conduits, but when toilet seats and baby dolls are an option how can someone vicious enough to play this game deny themselves the delicious irony? It's an asset that only seems to work due to the nature of it all being so fiendishly underplayed and the fact that it doesn't contrast with the horrific setting of the game, oddly enough appearing to conform to it even, just makes it even more sweet.

The tone of the game is dark, as are the sets about 90% of the time. For the majority of the game, it feels like a realists version of Bioshock, with the crazed inhabitants of a worn down city replacing the Splicers of Rapture and the plasmids swapped in for whatever you can lay your hands on. Despite the plot being noticably weaker, the game feels very similar to Bioshock in that respect, especially during the quieter sections where you can hear muttering and the water splashing beneath you as you wander through the odd puddle. It really doesn't have any issues with being a horror game, spreading its hand through each sub-genre, be it shock tactics or psychological horror (though I would have liked to have seen more of the latter).
In terms of the technical specs of the game, everything seems to be up to date. The graphics look lush (in that horrible grimy sort of way), the sound effects feel as dank as one would anticipate, and the acting from the cast is about as good as you would expect from the script they were provided with.
But that's the killer right there: The script.
For the most part, it's hack'n'slash, which is fair enough. It's a horror game, and although a decent plot would be nice, it's not necessary. In a horror game, you want to be scared, not witnessing a game that you wish was a film. The idea is to play and be frightened, not spectate and observe, but there eventually comes a point where you have to open your eyes and realise that what you're playing is descending into absurdity. Getting ridiculous. Jumping the shark.
Forunately, this is saved mostly for the final third or quarter of the game but that really doesn't excuse such bad storytelling. I'm not going to lie and say that I was particularly engaged in the characters, I saw the entire story as a means to an end. However, as a writer, you can't assume that if nobody cares then it's acceptable to throw in stupid plot devices. Especially when those plot devices have a severe impact that influence the game play.

Quite frankly, it's tempting to drop this game down another star but fortunately, the only level that left me soured was the last one, and I suppose the story line made some level of sense for at least the first half of the game.
It's due to Condemned 2 that my heart feels heavy informing that games have started to make these mistakes. I guess they were inevitable in the end, but I was holding out hope it was something I wouldn't be put in a position to experience for quite some time yet...

Throughout my experiences of gaming, I've often wondered if our relatively new medium of (dare I say it incase of slander:) art could be getting too immersive. Half of the thrill of video games is of course immersing yourself within the world of some alternate persona and in the case of games such as Bioshock in which the player assumes the role of a silent protgonist, it just becomes more inherent. Sure it makes the entire affair feel a little less realistic, with no verbiage coming from this virtual 'you' but that just gives you the opportunity to express your own thoughts within your head, pretend it's a part of the script. Not that I want to endorse the criticisms highly voiced by Jack Thompson and various other anti-video game opposers, but it does get a bit eery when you find that video games have the ability to make you emote fear, love and remorse. For the most part, the stereotype has only compared frustration and anger in video games as how you feel when you lose a level or die but is it actually possible to become so connected with your character that you feel genuine rage at the situation presented within the surroundings?

Bioshock certainly resonated with me on a great many levels, that said however it was with a great deal of surprise I finally admitted I liked it. Having bought an Xbox 360 solely to play the game, I actually felt like I'd made a worthy purchase which in a way pained me. To get the picture there are two key aspects of the situation you need to take into account: Firstly, I'm very much a PlayStation 'fanboy' and nothing would have made me happier than to return my 360 in disgust to the shop I'd bought it from and forgotten the whole ordeal. Second, from the very moment I heard about Bioshock I thought that the entire concept was dumb at best and ridiculous at most downright honest. The idea of an underwater city with big cyborg looking creatures and mutants gone insane sounds absolutely insane now, let alone 40 years ago. However for some reason, once you've actually played Bioshock, the entire affair sounds completely rational. I've twisted the words in my mind one thousand different ways and yet I still can't find that same level of cynicism.

Believe me when I say I've no intention to undermine other aspects of Bioshock when I mention that the only thing keeping my interest keen was the execution of the story and themes. Okay, I do mean to undermine some aspects of the game, but I'm still allowed some cynicism, right? Anyway, back to the point, Bioshocks main selling point is it's presentation. First off is the graphics, which are simply astounding. They're recognisably based on real objects, the setting is inherently 1960's and the mood in which it settles itself is downright haunting. It's the truest example of a world gone wrong to date and it's rendered perfectly. The visceral scope of the game may seem to be against the point of the story, but it directly correlates what's taking place at all times and that's important. Graphically, the game looks real, but almost slightly cartoonish, which is possibly an attempt to counteract the Uncanny Valley effect of gamers acknowledging the fakeness of a game as the graphics improve to life-like standards. In any case, when based against the shadows and the grim surroundings faced throughout the game, the visuals certainly achieve maximum effect.
The story is one of those that is so intricate that it is practically impossible to explain the plot without spoiling it, or taking up enough space to write a short essay. The basic premise is that your character is onboard a plane which crashes into the ocean. You, the lone survivor, swim to an oddly placed Lighthouse, where you find yourself descending through the depths of the ocean to the hidden paradise of Rapture, only Rapture is not quite the Utopia it might have been and it's up to you to save it. Throughout the course of the plot, you find yourself introduced to many characters who all come to mean something to you, sometimes positive, sometimes not so much. That said they will guide you and pave the way for plot twists, plot advancements and plot obscurities galore.
One of Bioshock's most advanced methods of storytelling is through a means of allowing you to collect audio diaries which explain the rise and fall of Rapture in varying detail. Although most of these are relevant to Raptures history, some offer disturbing insights into specific characters, particularly Surgeon Steinman who seems to have an obsession with symmetry, as well as famed radio host Sander Cohen who is just wrong in every direction...

The gameplay handles well for a good deal of it feeling like a standard first-person shooter, however the inclusion of plasmid upgrades adds a little spice to the dispatching of crazed citizens of the dystopia you find yourself cleansing. These plasmids give you the opportunity to use mutant-like abilities, freeze your enemies or set them aflame, or cover them in bees if that would give you more satisfaction. However, overall, when these aspects of the gameplay, plus the puzzle solving, as well as safe cracking and actually making an effort to purchase the plasmids all bind up together, they create a whole, if not somewhat expected result. It's not as if anything was bad, it's just that no part of it really seems fresh. Which is a flaw.
That said, my biggest issue with the game is probably best summised as 'the final hour' by which I mean the final hour of the game. Never before have I seen a game slip from sheer poignant beauty to relatively lame so fast in my life. Given the freedom thrown your way for the most of the game, the final level feels almost on-rails, and is immediately followed by an under-whelmingly arcade-esque boss fight, who is far too easy to beat as well. Frankly, it's really just one step in the wrong direction, but when all prior boss fights have been merged so well and so realisticly into the story with logical battlegrounds and settings, it's unsettling for your final Bioshock experience to be one reminiscent of times we have long passed.

All said and done, however, these flaws certainly don't wreck the game. They don't even render the experience mediocre. The game itself is a fine work of fiction which takes a wrong turn every now and then (well...only 'then') but still holds true to what it intended to be throughout it's own production which is an examination on fine plotting, standard gameplay and the philosophies of gaming and power. Which brings me back to my original point on: How much of an impact to video games have on our daily lives? Enough to manipulate how we spend our money? Unfortunately, yes. Enough to make us think bad thoughts? In all fairness, most of us did anyway. But enough to kill, or to be truly controlled? I think it's fair to say that technology, though astoundingly quick nowadays, has a way to go before it jumps that hurdle.

Penny Arcade Adventures: On the Rain Slick Precipice of Darkness Episode One

There comes a time in every reviewers life where they must consider what difference their own taste makes. You could have the greatest skill in history when it comes to writing, and you could present opportunities for discussion for years to come with your quirky insights and notice of in-game oddities that nobody else realised but all that makes little difference if your taste differs too vastly fom your target audience. It's particularly obvious but all the same important to realise that if tell people that a game is astounding and they buy it, things can either go up for your reputation or down in quite a hurry. If they agree then with luck you'll progress furthur into your field and go on to prove just why you should be respercted as a reviewer. If they disagree then you can be the subject of much slander with gamers criticising you for having them waste their money. All in all, you can be put into situations where telling the truth leaves you in a cacth-22 environment. Ethics or job?

In the case of Penny Arcade's first game, the sole necessity relies upon the humour which the duo have spent almost a decade establishing. Throughout the game, the jokes come thick and fast, and although the game is very much intended for the fans of the webcomic, it is not a target so narrow that other casual gamers will find themselves completely lost amidst the often crude and occasionally clever in-jokes. One thing to be said about Penny-Arcade is that their humour is not the sort to rely solely on what they have posted in the past. Although there are references that come thick and fast, it's often in the execution that the jokes are made funny. Although one could criticise this very review for being bias, it's only fair to mention that I myself have only been reading Penny Arcade for a few months and am not overly well-versed in the plethora of comics the ever expanding company has produced, nor am I overly familiar with many of the characters. It's probably fair to say that the best way to determine whether the very tongue in cheek styled humour of the game will apply to tickling your fancy is to spend an hour or so browsing through PA's lengthy back catalogue. It's free and is almost like a demo for the game, only without the interactivity (which is certainly an odd suggestion in a r1eview for a video game...)

Also important to note, in the context of personal taste is my own attitudes to RPG's. Although as a child I spent a great many hours enjoying Pokémon on my flourescant yellow GameBoy (original model, of course), ever since those days of youth I have found myself increasingly turned off by the recent wave of 'real' RPG's. What I mean by this is that RPG's have taken a turn in either direction of the grand Westernmobile: Either they've taken the Asian approach of creating entire worlds, completely impossible to compare to our own, whilst retaining the classic turn-based gameplay, or they've attempted to keep things Western and real (to an extent of course) relying on our own abilities to comprehend what we're seeing and playing, whislt bringing to the table real-time combat. As it stands, throughout my experiences of RPG's since those fabled days of Pokémon Yellow I've often found myself turned off by the constant moving in one direction or another, with developers rarely considering what could be achieved if they tried to merge the two subgenre's of Asian and Western Role Playing Games, my scathing review of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion being a prime example of my complete and utter hatred of the absolutism that has plagued the order.

Naturally, when I read more about PAA, the humour, the turn-based gameplay and the seemingly realistic setting (realistic in terms of appearence rather than the likelihood of the events taking place in the game) my anticipation for the game found itself on the rise. One of the initial turn off's, the knowledge that the title was being distributed via episodic gaming, became a turn on as I pondered the possibilities of seeing it as a sort of demo so I could make up my mind as to whether it would be truly worth continuing. That said however, the thought of paying such a price for just one episode may still reign heavy over some gamers heads and for those I would reccomend playing the demo or trying a friends copy first. The story also inspired a good deal of wonder within me as it really retains the Penny Arcade style of looking at things through a conventional mirror and subsequently smashing the glass to find something fresh and, in this case, funny. The story itself is filled with the necessary twists and turns to keep you on your feet but is so riddled with eccentricities, it becomes difficult to discern where the hilarity stops and the plot begins. I feel a great deal of sympathy for whoever has to fill out the Wikipedia page for Penny Arcade Adventures. One of my few qualms however, comes in light of the story. Although you can easily get a good 4-5 hours out of On the Rain Slick Precipice of Darkness Episode One, it feels like there is only about 3 hours of plot in there. After a brief introduction, it doesn't seem like the story is really going anyehere until the end of the first act at which point it's almost as if everybody working on the game created some sort of cocktail consisting of cocaine, coffee and red bull to really kick it into overdrive.
Another brief issue with the game is the fact that it is an episodic game. Although the whole point of the title is to reel you in, the game achieves this all too well, so much so that after the explosive climax has unwound, you find yourself so anxious for the next chapter that there's nought to do but either play the game again or email the developers asking them what's taking so bloody long.

All that considered, though means very little. There is nothing mentioned above that should really influence your opinion and that reflects my own tastes. As far as I'm concerned, the one thing that really sums up whether I was going to like this game or not was the title and if you think, as I do, that it's pretty damn catchy, then you'll probably love this game.

Penny Arcade Adventures: On the Rain Slick Precipice of Darkness Episode One. Just say it to yourself.

Playing Geometry Wars 2 made me wonder about the state of video games at the moment. All in all, it's fair to say that the seventh generation of video games has come out as one of the best yet, with retro titles flashing back and forth as if they're suddenly in fashion, as well as they more modern-artique sort of games for anybody who finds themselves lifting their jaws from the floor at the sight of the lusciously erotic new graphics for whatever the hells in fashion this week (Batman: Arkham Asylum, for those wondering.).
Moreso to the point, video games really seem to have come full circle with games like Geometry Wars as we find ourselves back to the old Pac-man esque games where although the layout is the same and the premise never changes, you never find yourself playing the same level twice, feeling dumbfounded when the coloured ghosts (or in this case coloured...Geome-droppers?) appear exactly where you didn't expect them to (or want them to...)

Having never played Geometry Wars: Retro Evolved I was somewhat taken aback by this dubiously simple yet somehow enticing game. Although it's a simple point and fire game, the exotic colours really do hit home as they thrash out the mugginess that seems to have latched onto all gamers thanks to the inane foggy haze that seems to have taken over every single current-gen video game known to man. The enemies spawn left right and centre and explode into bright firework-like rifts that time after time, you'll find yourself gazing at the implosion and not at everything else you're supposed to be looking at. See this is where the developers, Bizarre, have been somewhat clever; rather than making a game that is dumbfoundingly difficult, they make a fairly standard game with an absurd level of distractions so that in the end the only person to blame when you fail miserably is yourself for not concentrating.
Oh how many gamers will hark that this trickery can be immediately unappealing, probablyturning as many patrons off as it turns on, but after 15 minutes or so, you might actually have the incredible luck of succeeding at the game. The learning curve isn't too steep and often once you find even the slightest level of improvement within yourself, each time you return for a quick 5 minute doss, you'll more than likely see that you're progressively moving up the ranks, to not only your own amazement but also to a certain level of pleasure that is both enormous and kind fo creepy. Yes, you will feel godly playing Geometry Wars 2 and unless you have friends that are better than you, it's likely that you'll end up with a Hitler complex and start trying to make the world perfect and yours.

The gameplay is the sort that really takes some time to get your head around but it can be picked up quite easily. It's like the old (and remarkably frustrating) phrase goes "10 minutes to learn, a lifetime to master". It's with a limited amount of sorrow that I make such a remark but that is discounted mostly by the fact that it's true. Mostly.
The tunes on the game are pretty catchy, they really do invoke the sort of retro feel the game is obviously aiming for (and for anyone who missed that, the clue is in the name...Retro Evolved). However, it has to be said that unless you grew up around arcade games, they might not do much for you and at more than one occasion I did find myself turning music off on the option menu and pluggin my own tunes into my iSpeakers (for a truly epic feel, I reccomend the soundtrack to The Dark Knight. My scores rocketed when I put that on.)
One qualm you may find yourself with is that after a day or two, when you've spent two nights with your hands clammy with sweat, and your eyes sore from sleep deprivation, you may find your scores dipping which can instantly have you blaming the game. Trust me, this isn't the game, this is your lack of energy and focus. Get some sleep and try again tomorrow and you should be on top form.
On the whole the game is certainly an achievement, whether you want to try and top your high scores (might want to get the caffiene pills ready...) or just spend 5 minutes quick-playing it. The achievements are fun to try but infuriating to complete on occasion, so it might be best to save them until you're either very confident or a die-hard fan.

So as a game as retro as this is bound to toss up some feelings of nostalgia, is it fair to say that GeoWars might have some people wishing we were back in the golden age of arcade gaming? Possibly. Although for anyone feeling that urge might I suggest a bit of wondering around your city to see if there are any old arcades lying around or even a browse of Xbox Marketplace? There's certainly enough out there for your coin-slotting needs if you ever get tired of keeping up to date on next months super-flashy-exploding First Person Shooter.

I'm having difficulty summing up the main theme present within myself as I play Metal Gear Solid 3. With MGS, I'd call it an experience of pure stealth action. MGS2 reflects itself as an awakening of unrealistic reality. And although a big part of me wants to call Snake Eater an event of ultimate modern day nostalgia, somehow, that doesn't sit well with me. At first I assumed it was due to the contradiction of such a phrase that included 'modern day nostalgia' but then how is that any different from 'stealth action' or 'unrealistic reality'. It seems that Metal Gear Solid has always been a series that relied somewhat on it's own hypocrisy. It's sort of the appeal.
One quick visit to dictionary.com (seriously, everyone should have this site bookmarked) and I start to realise what the problem is. Apparently nostalgia is a wistful longing to be present at a former time one has experienced. A few problems there; I don't want to go back to the 60's as the Cold War started out, and I wasn't even in existence when it happened. Come to think of it, people who clearly remember that time aren't exactly the niché audience of MGS3.
The reason nostalgia comes to mind is that, although at first I appeared to have misunderstood the definition of the word, Metal Gear Solid 3 is incredibly well realised. From it's barest bones to it's fullest strength, the game reeks of sheer passion and honesty. The world you traverse throughout the game feels so real, even at it's most absurd thanks to very intense and logical scenery and truly deep characters. The music throughout feels big and bombastic, almost corny thanks to the unavoidable comparisons that are to be drawn to the music of old Bond films (the eponymous song, Snake Eater particularly draws stark similarities). This isn't solely a visceral or audible experience of quality either. The gameplay itself retains Metal Gear Solid's tradition of increasing in downright playability with each game. The new camoflague technique really adds a new perspective to the stealth element of the game which really feels comfortable within the jungle setting. Although it can on occasion be a pain to scroll through the menu's to find your proper outfit, the feature adds a sense of freedom by allowing you to take more control of whether or not you're captured outside of the old method of avoiding the cones on the radar. Of course, what with this being the 60's radar isn't an option and you're stuck with a sonar that can run out of power which brings me swiftly onto my next point.
Like I said, the game is very well realised and it's these little features that really make it so. It would have been all too easy for Kojima productions to literally transplant MGS or MGS2 to a jungle and leave it at that but they seem to have gone all out. From the clothes, to the random trivia, to the weapons and gadgets, everything fits. There's even one cinematic where there is some light blues playing on the radio, something that would feel completely normal back then. Kojima and his crew took a risk, and suffice to say, they came out trumps. And let's not demean that, they did take a real risk. Up until Snake Eater, the entire franchise has been set about a decade or so in the future, so to jump from that comfort zone to approximately 40 years in the past takes a great deal of courage to attempt and skill to pull off and without meaning to sound repetitive, they managed.
I'm not going to mention too much of the plot. Unless you are missing a whole lot of brain cells (or are far too much of a conspiracy theorist) this game is a prequel to the rest of the franchise and follows Naked Snake as he attempts to stop the launch of a mobile tank armed with nuclear warheads. Trust me when I say, anymore would just spoil things. I'm not going to mention any characters either for the same reason, although it is completely safe to say that the inevitable boss battles are both varied and intense, not disapointing the fans of the franchise, and hopefully managing to entice some of the newcomers.
Naturally, most of this has been in comment to the game as a game which doesn't help me in terms of coming up with a theme. The best I've come up with so far is that MGS3 is an ultimately retroactive encounter.
But if that's too over the top for you, I could sum it up for you by simply saying a really great game that deserves your attention.

When Metal Gear Solid was released in 1998, critics and consumers lapped it up. They dug the new means of storytelling and grasped the intense new ways in which a story could be told. Characters were no longer two dimensional and there was a vast moral dilemma aspect introduced which made gaming feel more...real. So for Hideo Kojima to dive back into the world of Metal Gear Solid, many people came to a logical conclusion:
Konami were going to have to pull a chicken out of their ass to somehow make MGS2 better.
They managed.
Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty improves on Metal Gear Solid in nigh on every way possible. The story is developed to add more depth, the strongest point of MGS, the gameplay has been tweaked to give it a smoother feel, the weakest point of MGS, and Snake was back, the most fun point of MGS. Though...he's not back as you'd expect...
Metal Gear Solid 2 is divided into 2 chapters, The Tanker and The Plant. The Tanker is more or less quintessential Metal Gear Solid and is exactly what players expected but The Plant took an excessive risk, one which to this day, most players do not welcome.
Unless you've been living under a rock for the past 7 years, you'll know that Metal Gear Solid 2 decided to introduce Raiden as the main character for the Plant chapter and herein lies the problem. When consumers buy a game, they anticipate more of what they were promised and throughout MGS and the advertising for MGS2, they were promised a lot of Solid Snake kicking ass. I even expected it, based on the box and having never played MGS before in my life. Many people can't look past Raiden's feminine appearence and whiny voice, but then I'm guessing most people still haven't tapped into the core of Metal Gear Solid, for it to be an experience unlike that of any other game, and in Hideo Kojima's vision, it's damn near impossible for everything to play out smoothly as Solid Snake in MGS2. It's a major contradiction of the plot, which I won't reveal because i