By Smullster 0 Comments
So.... It's been quite a while since I wrote about games. School is monopolizing my time and I don't get all that much time to play serious video games (as opposed to casual games, which I seem to be an unwilling demographic).
Yesterday I finished my second class in Java and decided to celebrate by picking up Resident Evil 5 for the PS3. I only progressed about a half hour into it, and I'm enjoying it. The combat is quite visceral as well as the cut scenes. Usually I have a high tolerance in game violence, but this game has me a bit squemish. Enough for me to trade the game in? Heck no... but never the less it is having a bit of an effect on me. As an aside, I never would have thought that this would be an issue. I've ganked video game characters with the best of them... but something about this title resonates with me. Yeah... I'm knee deep in infected, zombie like third world villagers. No, but the combination of disease and the demented behaviour of the village populace is disturbing to me. I'm getting too cerebrial about this.
The controls for the most part are good. I like how side-stepping has been incorporated into the movement scheme and for the most part I'm enjoying having a partner. For the most part she isn't getting in the way and Sheva actually seems to be holding her own in a fight. To be honest, she's doing better than me. (Hey, I'm old - cut the aged guy a break!). I'm enjoying the tension of deciding whether to keep an item for myself or to give it to Sheva. I'm curious to see how good the AI is in making sure that she has enough ammo or if I'm pretty much solely in control of how she's outfitted. My son (a very precocious 9 year old) says that she'll take care of herself and to hord whatever ammo I find for myself. Somehow, I'm doubtful on this strategy, but he seems to have a pretty good handle on fighting the first boss. You know, the one with nails sticking out of his burlap covered head?
End note - It's quite humiliating having a 9-year old take the controller out of your hand and saying 'Here... let me help you with that.' I'm pretty sure I didn't do that to my dad when I was his age.