Mega Man 10

Mega Man 10 is a rather ironic release. Ironic in the sense that it’s the direct sequel to a game most known for abandoning every gameplay change, new plot direction and franchise reimagining done to the ever-stagnating Mega Man series in the last twenty years. And if Mega Man 9 is not only intended to be a nostalgic homage but the starting point of a new franchise, then it shouldn’t be long before the known world is fed up with the conservative direction of games like Mega Man 10. Soon people will begin to cry for a new revolution away from Mega Man 9’s revolution. A Mega Man X revival, perhaps? Mega Man Soccer 2?

(And if roman numerals are in effect, Wouldn’t Mega Man 10 be Mega Man X anyways?)

Fortunately, that time hasn’t come yet and Mega Man 10 is a solid little poster child in favour of providing “more of the same.” It’s still Mega Man 2-redux. You still choose one of 8 stages themed after a diabolical robot master. You still run, jump, shoot and climb your way from one side of the screen to the other. You still get super weapons of varying usefulness for figuring out a robot master’s attack pattern and toppling them with their own predictability. One of those weapons is the obligatory shield of balls that circle Mega Man that only make sense on a two-dimensional plane. You can still score easier wins over robot bosses by using their “weakness” weapon against them. What those weaknesses are is determined either through good old trial and error or Google. (And while you can probably guess, through bizarre video game element logic, what weapon to use against the fire boss or ice boss, determining which robot master succumbs to a baseball attack is another matter.)

And yes, Mega Man 10 is still nut-crackingly difficult. You will die many, many times over on your first playthrough. The obscene difficulty of Mega Man games has always been off put by the ability to just try another robot master’s stage if one particular level is giving you migraines, or at least until after all the levels gave you migraines. The gameplay is still trial-and-error oriented, and once you grasp how to handle certain obstacles, you’ll laugh in the face of the sandstorm of death.

Okay, there are some welcome new tweaks to Mega Man 10. For example, if Mega Man 9 humbled you, the option of an Easy mode exists, that modifies the levels in the name of making them more pro-life. You now have the option to play as Proto Man from the onset instead of paying some $2 for the privilege. Proto Man has the slidy-chargeshoty-powers of later Mega Man games but with the trade off in that he is more susceptible to damage. Certain levels have branching paths to let players choose how they wish to die. And a new challenge mode contains a series of obstacle courses to test your 8-bit-gaming wits and ability to jump off a platform you’ve tip-toed to the complete end of. And unlike Mega Man 9, none of the upcoming DLC comes across as features that should’ve been in the main game to begin with. Who really cares to play as Bass, anyways?

And Mega Man 10’s best attribute is arguably how self-aware it is of the era it is paying homage to. NES-era games, with their walking turtles and flying Medusa heads, went in the direction of simple, easily identifiable characters of radical distinction in an era where realism was a fool’s goal. And now, in the days of Uncharted and Modern Warfare, Mega Man 10’s love of bizarre characters and scenarios seems shockingly fresh. Mega Man will match wits against giant mouse cursors with eye balls, American Gladiators-style ball racks with eye balls, runaway trucks with eye balls…and then my personal favorite. A giant, projectile-flinging fortress that raises a white flag after being defeated… with three pairs or eyeballs. How long before this series truly indulges itself by pitting you against a giant eyeball with eyeballs?

That oddball ideas carries itself out into the gameplay in more ways than you think. Even if you’ve seen variations before in other games, level ideas like swooping sandstorms and convoys of fireballs (with eyeballs) make for some rather creative scenarios. Considering how there are more Mega Man games than citizens of Vatican City, it’s downright amazing that Inti Creations can keep conceiving so many danged ideas for a run-and-jump platformer.

Even the plot reeks of NES-ticity. All of the robots of the world succumb to a plague called “Roboenza.” Mega Man must help Dr Light and Dr Wily research a cure the Leonardo Da Vinci way by murdering and dissecting the evil robots.

And my what 8 lovely robots we have. It may seem like Inti Creations had hepped a few magic mushrooms during development of Mega Man 10 upon witnessing a certain mammal-based robot. But as someone who’s reviewed the previous nine official Mega Man games made, I see nothing abnormal in a series that brought us Wood Man, Toad Man and Charge Man. Besides, these robots make perfect sense in a futuristic society.

Blade Man: Designed to compete in the Olympic sport of fencing as a gut response to Canada’s sheer domination of the Winter Games. But the IOC deemed mechanical devices to be performance-enhancers. Thus, Blade Man sulks in his private castle, dreaming of what could’ve been.
Chill Man: Master of icy attacks and a chilled, laid back attitude. Presumed stoner, despite the irony of needing fire to light up.
Nitro Man: Designed to cash in on the popularity of street racing after the recent Fast and Furious movie revival. But robot development cycles being as long as they are, the fad has passed some XX number of years and Nitro Man spends his days cruising the streets, obeying speed limits alone.
Pump Man: He has a giant pump on his head. He pumps it and water comes out. Great at parties. May also come in handy for other oral activities.
Commando Man: Besides having a very redundant name, Commando Man is notable for having thick armour and rocket launchers for arms. What was he designed for? What else but a fireworks technician.
Sheep Man: His coat of wool generates electrical attacks. Presumably designed to educate children about static electricity. For all I know, he was probably designed as a rib on Nintendo fans.
Strike Man: I don’t feel like I need to explain why Strike Man was made. What kid wouldn’t want his own life-sized baseball-playing robot? The downfall in his design is that he can potentially kill basemen, and with child safety laws the way they are...
Solar Man: Finally, Solar Man was designed to promote alternative energy sources. For you see, pollution and energy conservation will continue to be a problem in the year 20XX. And solar energy will continue to be openly mocked as a viable energy source in the year 20XX.

After Mega Man cuts open the last robot master, the plot twist happens. If you’ve played these games before, you know what the plot twist is. You then proceed to the final series of levels and defeat a series of bosses, culminating in the one final boss you already know about. Tradition has its place, but even I feel that certain old standbys of this series can be revamped in the name of freshness. Bowser gets creative at the end of each Mario game, you know.

Mega Man 10 is a game that you may or may not already have an opinion on, based on your experience with the franchise. The new difficulty mode at least makes it more humane to the uninitiated. Your opinion ultimately depends on your thoughts of the NES era of games, both in difficulty and perverse spectacle. Eventually, this series will grow stale again if it stays in this direction. Fortunately, that day hasn’t come yet. People that liked Mega Man 9? Buy it.

4 stars

Dante's Inferno

First and foremost, if you are an avid fan of The Divine Comedy, you are going to hate what EA has done to their Dante’s Inferno game. It is as blistered and altered and transformed from the original poem as you feared. I’ve joked before about video gamizing in the past, but Dante’s Inferno really raises the bar to downright sacrilegious levels. But if you avoid taking personal offense to how Dante’s Inferno butchers the legendary work that is The Divine Comedy (and for that matter, the legendary game that is God of War) then you’ll actually find a surprising bit of unintended, not very-divine comedy.

Dante’s Inferno is as much a homage to The Divine Comedy as The Insane Clown Posse is a homage to Muddy Waters, or any music in general. In The Divine Comedy, Dante was a poet whom traversed the circles of hell, purgatory and heaven like a tourist, having friendly conversations with the locals and soaking in the sights under the hope of seeking blessing from some Beatrice angel thingy. In Dante’s Inferno, Dante is a jacked-to-the-gills Emo Crusader that laughs at death…literally. He takes the Grim Reaper’s scythe and slices him in half while the angel of death begs for mercy. He then returns home, only to find a bald-headed naked Satan taking the very naked soul of his wife Beatrice down to hell due to Dante’s (obviously) sordid past. Of course, the only way Dante knows how to make things right is to traverse the nine circles of hell and disrupt Lucifer’s operation of tormenting the damned. Taken on its own, the Dante’s Inferno plot is your typical video game plot of a crazy good guy trying to muck up everyone that the crazy bad guy works for.

And thus begins the merry romp into the underworld. When you think about it, Dante’s Inferno is all about two ideas; cloning God of War and giving concept artists a chance to unleash their darkest fantasies onto a piece of paper. Each circle of hell (well, 8 out of 9) are recreated with lovingly twisted imagery, and each populated with appropriately gory enemies. Babies with claws, prostitutes with AIDS-powered tentacles, fat dudes with mouths for hands… the concept artists for Dante’s Inferno had a real field day creating monsters for their vision of the beyond. Sure, it gets a bit silly to see certain enemies overlap in circles they don’t belong in; the Lust hooker monsters are probably a bit out of place in the swampish Anger circle, but whatever. You do kill Minos, the secretary of Hell, very early on in the game, so it is a bit understandable that the paperwork of hell is a bit mixed up as Dante progresses.

As for the former part, Dante’s Inferno recreates God of War with about as much mercy and understanding as Kratos recreates the pain and suffering on all of those who cross his path. You run and double jump like Kratos. You roll out of harm’s way like Kratos. You swing and shimmy across ropes like Kratos. You quick time event death-defying events like Kratos. You fail quick time events and start the cutscene over again like Kratos. You inject steroids into your buttcheeks like Kratos. I could only think of one original gameplay mechanic in the entire game, and it’s so unholy and yet so comedic that I’ll get to it in a bit. Back to Kratoizing.

The combat is very much GOWian. A bunch of enemies of various kinds swarm in, often in large, repeating waves, using light and heavy attacks from both your scythe and holy cross. There’s something ironically funny about attacking enemies with cross projectiles. I can’t explain why, but for some reason, I never grew sick and tired of the combat. Sure, I knew I was merely fighting the same ten to twelve different enemies en masse. Sure, it reeks of artificial game lengthening when you flip a switch to open a door, only for the door to shut back tight and a swarm of enemies to appear and mock your wasted energy before the switch can be flipped again. Sure, some of those waves of enemies just seem to go on and on like that song that never ends. But to my surprise, I never loathed the action. Maybe it’s the visceral satisfaction of dicing multiple enemies with your mighty cross. Maybe it’s the gradually unlocking of abilities that let you air combo and juggle an entire entourage of demons in the air simultaneously. But this is a game that is very much carried by the strengths of its combat system, and the ability to slay many, many, many of Satan’s homeboys by the dozen.

Speaking of which, that upgrade system is driven by a Holy and Unholy morality system. Though calling it a morality system seems dishonest; a morality system is what Bioware games have, or Infamous, or other games with branching story paths based on a pretense of your character being “good” or “bad”. In this game, you’re always good; there’s but one single linear story, and one single linear ending. Rather, you earn Holy or Unholy points based on whether you choose to Punish (i.e. slaughter) certain enemies or Absolve (i.e. slaughter with religion) them. Likewise, you will run into famous celebrities (well apparently famous for their time. I only recognized Pontius Pilate) and can choose to either send them to heaven or damn them for points. (And damn them to what, I wonder. More hell?) The salvation option is comedic in the sense that you are made to play a Simon-esque mini game where you have to time button presses to catch little orbs called “sins.” Ultimately, all of the cool Holy and Unholy attacks are early-level material, so you’ll probably have a variety of Holy and Unholy points, and the morality system feels like a wasted opportunity. Dante runs into many key figures into his life and I would’ve loved to be given the chance to punish or absolve them, with potential storyline repercussions. Same with bosses too; I would love to absolve Cerberus, see what the Lord thinks of that.

So despite the sheer combat overdose, despite the unabashed ways it rips off God of War, despite the missed opportunities, I really only have one true legitimate complaint with Dante’s Inferno. The second-to-last level, the circle of Fraud, which I think is a big deal in the Divine Comedy. (I think it’s a circle of hell that has its own 10 circles dedicated to it. Hell architects had strange priorities. Though it is funny that politicians get their own circle. Stephen Harper, your fate is sealed.) This level is transformed into ten arena challenges, where Dante stands on the exact same platform and smacks up respawning enemies, and always with a stupid stipulation attached. What do I prove to the Lord above by completing a 100-hit combo, or staying in the air for 8 seconds? Both challenges required either a deceptive manipulation of my equipped items or exploiting certain moves to cheat to advance. Both of which resorted in my Gamefaq-ing the solutions to the problem. This was the part of the game where I felt like I was indeed being damned and punished by Visceral Games for my previously hating Dead Space. Or maybe this was the part of the game where the budget ran dry, or the release date drawn dangerously close, and the developers were in a panic to finish their game and satisfy the dark overlords at EA.

In any event, the biggest surprise about Dante’s Inferno was just how little I hated the game. It’s not terrific, it’s far from perfect, but it’s easier to enjoy if you know what you’re getting yourself into. I can neither absolve nor damn the game, but rather send it to rental purgatory. It’s about 7 hours long, and I am already in the midst of a second playthrough, and that’s more than I can say for, oh I don’t know, God of War 2. X-Men Origins: Wolverine is still the king of the God of War clones, and the actual next God of War is only a few weeks away from release as of this writing. But if the notion of slicing a giant purple Cleopatra’s cleavage off appeals to you, this is about the best and only socially acceptable way to go about it.

3 ½ stars

Bioshock 2

Once upon a time there was a magical kingdom under the sea. All kinds of exotic jellyfish and coral reefs occupied this kingdom to greet the citizens, all of which had magical powers. The king of this land was a wise and charismatic leader with ambitions of utopia and addressing the pedophilia issue by protecting all daughters with hulking submarine monsters. These monsters, despite being fatherly figures in name, were unorthodox in their tendency to solve conflict by means of mining equipment. Of course, utopia is an idea that always fails in fiction, so everyone started maiming each other and destroying the kingdom’s décor, which led to the serene mess that was Rapture.

The original Bioshock was the greatest game you never wanted to play again. It was atmospheric, haunting, powerful, maybe even a bit thought-provoking if you’re in a pro-adjective mood. The heavy-handed world of Rapture represents some kind of unlikely achievement in level design. It’s just that progressing through the game was a bit a chore, kind of like working as a janitor in a haunted house. Oh sure, it’s thrilling to sweep the haunted floors and risk death the first time, but it just becomes a monotonous task the moment you realize you can respawn at the vita-chamber after the inhabiting spirits chop you down. So Bioshock 2 felt like the sequel no one wanted. What new revelations and surprises can be made by revisiting Rapture? Especially with how neat and tidy the first game wrapped itself u, a sequel was very, very, very painfully unnecessary. And didn’t Rapture collapse in the first game? Or if it didn’t, isn’t the time between both games enough for all the psycho citizens to have killed each other, devoured the remains and choke on the bones?

The pleasant surprise about Bioshock 2 is that, while it doesn’t quite match that initial sense of (bio)shock and awe, it does justify its existence with some (bio)shockingly great gameplay.

The core Bioshockisms are still intact. You still alternate between firing guns and throwing lightning bolts, fire or insects out of your mutated hand. You still purchase upgrades capable of doing funny things to your metabolism. Both of which are made somewhat ironic in the sense that the game has you playing as a Big Daddy this time around. The differences between being a submarine monster and the ordinary fool from the first game are sparse. You can now walk underwater, in segments that render firearms inoperable and serve only to traverse from point A to B. You can now use the Big Daddy Drillomatic, though that weapon doesn’t become effective until you learn the very comedic bum rush thrust pleasure attack. And you’re heavy; but you will only be reminded of your massive girth when you slip off the first two flights of stairs and here a mighty thump. And you will hear many mighty thumps throughout your playtime.

But there are several small changes that transform the underwater trek from redundant to…the opposite of redundant. The different guns and their respective ammo types each bear more weight than in the first game. Being shot in the head with a flying rivet from a rivet gun feels a bit like being Frankensteined the hard way should be…provided you have the headshot upgrade. (Yes, you need to drink a personal upgrade tonic to alter the laws of biology for the rest of the universe and give headshots realistic damage.) Unlike the first game which had you often strapped for ammo and left to use whatever bullets were straggling on the floor like a gun-toting hobo, munitions are slightly more plentiful, but not overabundant that you want to get gluttonous with waste. Just the ability to dual wield your plasmid magic attack and firearm gives the game a very noticeable upping of pace. That silly piping-hack mini-game is replaced by a more conventional “press the button here” game that you play on the fly, in the world’s most accessible form of computer hacking. And the game provides a bevy of mines, spear-traps, mini-turrents and (I kid you not), proximity-detonating RIVETS that give you some options for the numerous “wait here while enemies respawn on your ass” segments.

All of these changes give the game a superior sense of flow and excitement. Gone is the feeling of just dying over and over again, respawning at the nearest vita-chamber and inching your way forward, one splicer corpse at a time. Health and weapon power-ups actually feel cherished, despite still being technically obsolete by the existence of the vita-chamber’s “Get out of Hell Free” card. The game even presents the option of disabling the immortal-generating vita-chamber respawns and actually making the player think about their every step taken, bullet flung and first aid kit consumed. Truth be told, I was having too much fun with the vita-chambers to bother flipping them off, which is somewhat of a substantial improvement over the first game if you think about it. Not so much of an improvement is the Little Sister system; you still have the choice to either rescue a girl for a little ADAM or molest her for a lot more. The difference now is that in rescuing girls, you can play a little mini-game where you protect her from invading splicers while she plays doctor and sucks fluids from a human body. This mini-game takes an uncomfortable long time, and frankly, it’s just easier to do mean things to the girls. Sometimes, the threat of a bad mini-game can promote bad behavior, kids.

I should probably talk about the story at some point. You’re a Big Daddy, and you want to find your Little Sister, who happens to be the daughter of the game’s villain. Very simple and effective character motivation, eh? The antagonist, Sophia Lamb, is some kind of sort-of-communist leader that was apparently a major nemesis to Andrew Ryan, despite never being mentioned in Bioshock 1.

I feel as though your enjoyment of Bioshock 2 will depend largely on how long its been since you played Bioshock 1. If you kindly revisited Bioshock 1 because you wanted the refresher, you may have shot yourself in the foot. With bees, no less. You’ll thus spend a lot of time wondering why certain characters never came up prior, and the shoehorning of the Lambs and the “Alpha Daddies” might feel a bit artificial. And you’ll probably not be so impressed with the setting. While you’ll be visiting “unexplored sections of Rapture”, the awe of seeing water leaking through a tube or people writing cryptic Armageddon messages on the wall has faded. But I can’t verify anything I said in this paragraph. It’s been years since I freed all the Little Sisters and presumably left the original Rapture to collapse. I was more willing to be intrigued by the numerous tape recorded messages and random acts of vandalism. And I was more willing to allow myself to be intrigued by the story of a silent father’s pursuit of her not-really-daughter.

The campaign is about 8 hours long, with the tentative promise of downloadable content. There’s something about the promise of downloadable content that terrifies me; perhaps because it signifies to me that Rapture will never truly cave in after years of decay and destruction. But then again, the thought of Bioshock multiplayer terrified me too, and the game proved me wrong again!

The multiplayer actually has storyline significance, being set at that time in Rapturian history where everything went bonkers. All of the conventional multiplayer modes are accounted for, like Deathmatch, Team Deathmatch and Girlnapping. But it’s all of the different Bioshockist ideas that make this mode unique, just like how having jackable cars in a city made Grand Theft Auto 4’s multiplayer so darned spiffy. You have your guns, but you also have your funky super genetic powers, the ability to hack equipment to your advantage, and the option to photograph fallen foes for a logically-inexplicable damage bonus. There are few things that put a smile on my face like being killed, and then watching my murderer get smote by the trap I placed on the vending machine earlier. Even the game’s personality shines through in multiplayer; the 50s culture motifs that Bioshock 2 ripped off from Bioshock 1 ripping off Fallout are in full effect. Forget playing as generic military marines and terrorists, your characters of choice include a housewife and a jock of the most stereotypical sense.

So biomultiplayer is surprisingly fun, though it does succumb to that one flaw that ruins every multiplayer shooter from the last two-three years. Most people don’t look at it as a flaw, based on its stupendous popularity. I’m referring to perks; how you have to play a multiplayer mode for a very long time to “level up” and have access to better weapons and upgrades. The time it takes to grant access to the higher-level abilities is more than I care to invest in any shooter. And at this point, I wonder when people are going to have enough of the level grinding. I imagine the fans of perks getting fed up with them at some point. Imagine the typical person that spent endless sleepless weekends reaching the top level in Modern Warfare 1, and probably repeated the process again in Modern Warfare 2. They were then asked to repeat the process over again for Killzone 2, Uncharted 2 and now Bioshock 2. I’d like to think that at this point, people are going to get fed up with always being made to start out with but the most basic of pistols and upgrades. If perks are meant to extend a multiplayer game’s shelf life, then it’s ironic to me how they keep me away, and it’s the perk-free Halo 3 multiplayer that I often find myself returning to.

Okay, I’ll get off my soapbox now. The perks issue is more a personal issue than one the world seems to share. Sadly. But Bioshock 2 is actually worth playing to my surprise. I was ready to dismiss this as another unnecessary sequel in a cruel world where sequels are more prevalent than donations to the local food bank. And while Bioshock 2 will not enlighten you, you will at least have fun sticking lightning bolts in a crazy person’s face while firing combustible shotgun blasts. Gameplay first, folks.

4 stars

God of War Collection

So say you’re watching the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, and you’re ticked off. Maybe because you’re of Aboriginal descent and the Opening ceremonies were a complete fiasco to you. Or perhaps you’re a native of a country that isn’t doing so hot. Maybe you’re from Mexico and the one single Mexican competitor was robbed. Or perhaps your spouse just made you watch 8 straight hours of speed skating, I don’t know. But if your dander is up from the Olympic spirit, then what better way to vent your anger than unleashing it on the very gods the Olympians worshipped?

God of War Collection contains God of War 1 and God of War 2. All of their original bonus features are there, along with nothing else. If you want to know what all the fuss about, I’ve got individual reviews for both. But to surmise, you play as a pasty white steroid dude from Ancient Greece, and organisms surrounding you have a tendency to bleed.

Okay, there are two new features. You can now play in widescreen High Definition, for the people who feel insecure when faced with two black bars on the sides of their HDTVs. I remember being vividly impressed when I first witnessed the opening CG sequence for the first time in HD. Then I remember subsequently cringing at the sight of blocky enemies appearing like abstract sculptures. While playing in high definition may be slightly better than playing in not-so-high definition, these aren’t the games you’ll be using to show off your 52’ megabeast television.

And there’s trophies, for the very small percent of the population that gives a damn. Each game has a separate set of trophies and you’ll get most for playing through, for people that must have a decorated online mantle. And this is a small complaint, one that I’m sure I could’ve corrected by turning off the trophy prompt messages on my PS3 somewhere. But all of the trophies having such goofy puns for names sure kills the serious tone of the actual game. Trophies like “Breakin’ Wind”, “What’cha got on the hot plate”, and “Spread ‘em” both contradict what Kratos is about as a character, and show just how little thought the developers of the game put into creating these trophies.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that there’s nothing new in God of War Collection that warrants purchasing if you already own the first two games. But that said, the game currently retails for $30 as of this writing, and that’s a heck of a deal for two solid action games. So if you never bought either game and the Olympics have got you down, well my friend, take the plunge. Kratos himself takes many plunges…of his knife into other people’s abdomens.

4 stars

God of War 2

God of War 2 is a lot like the Olympics, if you think about it for a second and no longer. There’s a decidedly Greek undertone, you have multiple nations going to war against each other (in this case, gods vs titans), there’s an overpriced musical score to accompany it, and there’s a torch or two involved. Of course, there are differences, too. One uses torches are part of tradition while the other uses them to charcoal the living. One costs the player $60 at launch while the other costs a city about $2,000,000,000. And one isn’t a complete bore to watch. Of course, like the Olympics, God of War 2 does have a few embarrassing flaws…it’s just that the game is courteous enough to not display them during the opening ceremony.

Without giving too much of the plot away, Kratos acts a fool and has to go on a long journey to un-act a fool of himself. God of War 1 got a lot of the emotional backstory of Kratos out of the way; less time is spent moping about dead family members and more time spent killing over families’ members. Kratos does not develop at all as a character; he’s an angry dude at the beginning of the game and he ends the game an angry dude. I don’t think his fans would have it any other way. Many, many mythological figures make cameo appearances, all of which will leave their God of War experience having been stabbed by Kratos at least once (and not always because Kratos is mad at them either.) Ultimately, it’s a Greek mythology story, and the more you appreciate Greek mythology, the more you’ll appreciate the use and abuse of famous characters and story formulas.

Meanwhile, people who are well-versed in the gameplay of God of War 1 will be more appreciative of the small tweaks made in God of War 2. Having just played both back to back, I can’t help but show gratitude for the ability to not have to hold a button for a minute to upgrade abilities from the pause menu. Or to make leaping strides across ropes or walls during the assorted climbing sequences. Or how you can turn on and off the Super Rage Emotion mode. They may be petty changes but…okay, they’re petty changes. God of War 2 is basically God of War 1 Redux.

You’re still swinging your chain blades around like a pretentious artist splashing a canvas with random strokes of passion. You’ll still pull out a Medusa-head to stone enemies in the literal sense. You’ll still use the area-of-effect magic attack more often than the other special abilities. You still have that goofy chicken-legs double jump. And you’ll still timely finish off enemies with quick-time events. They’re not as frequent-occurring as in other post-God-of-War-2 releases, but you’ll still resort to finishing off most enemies with them, if just because it’s easier.

I feel like the flaws of the combat system in God of War 2 are starting to show. You’ll face off against many enemies at once on any given scuffle, and one’s natural instinct is to clear the room with flailing chain blade sweeps. But I often felt like there was a discrepancy between the visual splendor of my attacks and the damage being done. It’s hard to gauge whether an enemy blocked your last attack or was in some kind of invulnerability animation. Thus, your wacky blade death strike may have had less an impact than visually implied. You can carve up some enemies, including a boss or two, for minutes at a time and feel like nothing is accomplished.

Which connects to the boss fights. For people that complained about the first game only having three boss fights, well the gods have answered your prayers with 5 times the battles. But like any promise made to the gods, there comes a price. The battles themselves aren’t terrible, but like many of the regular encounters, you’re left wondering whether or not your sword swipes are either causing damage or just popping pimples. A health meter would’ve been nice.

And while I’m creating barely-substantial grievances about God of War 2, no subtitles! Think about the hearing-impaired. Or the soundproof-room-impaired.

Flipping back to the positive notes, God of War 2 at least bests its predecessor in terms of gigantism. A combination of the Santa Monica developers having mastered that Playstation 2 hardware and being conniving trickster has led to the game featuring moments featuring things that are uncharacteristically…big. The opening sequence has Kratos attempting to play with a giant, animated colossus, and using Rome as a toy box. While the game never quite matches that level of excitement in subsequent areas, it does at least find plenty of large creatures and sights for which to wow little Kratos with. And naturally, it saves the most grotesque for last.

But like Kratos’ petty attempts to hack at the colossus’ shins, the game still finds a few ways to annoy me. Switch puzzles involving infinitely respawning enemies are never a good idea, and yet the game still manages to squeeze in far too many for my liking. For all of Kratos’ bravado, one would get the idea that he would think of himself as above pulling levers and flipping switches. But alas.

Finally, my biggest issue with God of War 2 is that it ends on a rather cheap cliffhanger. Without giving anything away, the game ends abruptly, in Halo 2-like fashion, at the peak of the plot’s interest. The ending movie merely ends, leaving the player with a tagline for the inevitable God of War 3. By the time God of War 3 is released, about 3 years will have passed, and that’s a long time for people to be left wondering what awaits Olympus. But even for those only experiencing God of War 2 for the first time now, having a teaser trailer for an ending cheapens the entire preceding experience.

God of War 2 is about 3-4 hours longer than God of War 1, for the crazy game-devouring folk that claimed the first one was too damned short. A crowd I may never understand. As for God of War 2, it has its moments, and it’ll be worth a look if you loved God of War 1 so much that you must follow Kratos’ every moment of bliss. But the experience feels cheapened. Even though I had both positive and negative experiences throughout the God of War 2 journey, I feel as though the experience is meaningless. Maybe if God of War 3 proves a worthy conclusion to the trilogy, then all will be made right in the world. But right now, I’ll be happy merely knowing that God of War 3 is the final chapter.

3 ½ stars

God of War 1

The 2010 Winter Olympics are underway, and citizens of the world are indulged in the spirit of patriotism and hope for their nation’s athletes. Canadians from far and wide have been purchasing those snuggly red Olympic mittens to warm their hands and hearts with the excitement of hosting an event as prestigious as the games. But underneath the tradition and energy of the Olympic events lies a path of destruction. The IOC has developed a reputation for plundering every city they enter, generating billions of debt and making me wonder why any city would make a bid for the Olympic games. Now Vancouver is about to go the way of Montreal post-’76 games.

For people who aren’t so enamored with the spirit of financial peril and bobsledding, there’s God of War. A game about killing Greek gods and their Olympian heroes.

Kratos is the fictional protagonist of the story…or fictional in the sense that he’s not an original Greek Mythology figure which I guess all Greek Mythology is fiction and…well he’s an American-made Greek myth. He’s also similar to most Olympic athletes in that he is visibly on the juice. Kratos is understandably peeved with the gods and especially the god of war, Aries, for allowing the Olympics to happen in his hometown…I mean they did some bad stuff to him in the past. Kratos is a tragic figure, with a small case of the Niko Bellic Complex in that he weeps and cries about his past just as he’s sticking his swingy knives in the jugulars of his foes, but at least he’s given both a backstory and a present attitude that matches a psychopath. Kratos is a very, very bitter bowl of rage, the embodiment of Freudian anger release, which may be why so many gamers relate to him. Do you still feel safe letting your children play this game?

And while I had to spend a period readjusting my brain to get used to the almost strange excess of violence, and while there’s a tinge of melodrama within the preceding events, everything at least fits. Anyone who ever had a month of Greek Mythology study in Grade 10 English knows that most stories are akin to God of War, complete with the monsters getting violent and the women getting nekkid. And there are plenty of Greek-isms, like the gods giving Kratos gifts, and the gods ultimately not being of much help. There’s an aura of authenticity to God of War, which may have to do with how this game contrasts to, and flips off, Disney’s Hercules movie or such. And the slow reveal of Kratos’ past, combined with a strong sendoff finale, keeps the player intrigued throughout the game’s events and feeling satisfied when all is said and done.

Large portions of the gameplay is spent coping with Kratos’ emotions. He doesn’t seem to be particularly keen to sit down and talk with a counselor, so instead he opts to express himself with a symphony of death. Kratos walks a mostly-linear path, flashing his elasto-chain-blades around like a germophobe with Febreeze. God of War is the opposite of Demon’s Souls; in that game, your swinging your sword randomly, with careless dodging will result in a quick death. In God of War, swinging your sword-things results in the quick deaths of 5 others. The combat system isn’t the deepest you’ve seen in a game, but it gives you a reasonable number of toys to toy with…I mean “gifts from the gods” to toy with. And you’re still required to stay alert, keeping focus on enemy attack patterns and the best way to retaliate. Plus there’s a fun variety of enemies with free-hanging genitals for Kratos to circumcise.

When you’re not on foot slapping enemies around with your phallic swords, you’re probably doing something else related to death. You might be climbing a wall while throwing enemies to their demise. Perhaps you’re shuffling along a rope while dropkicking monsters off. There are even instances of solving puzzles by means of mortality. For all I know, Kratos flosses by tearing the veins out of another person. The platforming is light but effective, often asking Kratos to use his chicken legs for the typical-in-every-freaking-game double jump. The game has just enough diversions to never feel stagnant, and more than enough death traps to remind Kratos that karma operates in strange ways. The game’s puzzles are never particularly complex, but they’re not always “flip this switch in this order to open this single locked door” either. Many of the puzzles often have a large sense of scope; a small cog within a major part of the setting you’re in, making you feel like you’re gradually cracking the major mystery of an ancient contraption. A contraption that wants you dead, of course.

Most of my real gripes with God of War are petty issues, smaller nitpicks with individual sequences. I’ll say that I’m not a fan of swimming, or pushing blocks by way of curb stomp. To be more specific would give away too much and I don’t have the heart to spoil. Rather, I would like to complain about other people’s complaints over God of War. I’ve heard people nag about the game only having 3 boss fights. That I can vividly remember all three of these bosses means that they at least made a significant impact on me. God of War isn’t a particularly conventional game, people; the game has 6 “stages”, and I use the term “stage” in the loosest sense, since you’ll spend about 40% of your playtime in just one of those levels. Finally, at 7-8 hours, people used to complain about the game being short. In today’s day and age where people don’t even have enough time of day to get their work done on scheduled hours and need a Blackberry on them at all times just to keep their office running while they’re in bed macking their wife, 7-8 hours is actually a good while. Most of the people that can finish an 8 hour game in a day are little kids too young for an M-rated game, and to them, I stick my tongue out.

There’s a consensus of people that think God of War 2 is a better game, if just because it’s longer and has more bosses. I don’t think I can agree with that. God of War 1 bows out just as you’re starting to feel fatigued over the gameplay. Not to mention, it ends on a satisfying note and not in a cheap cliffhanger that forced players to wait nearly 3 years for a conclusion.

Finally, where the hell are the subtitles? Have you no mercy for the deaf, Kratos? Or the people that live in apartments with cantankerous neighbours? Or people that just want to listen to Loverboy while playing their games? I bet the developers are very proud of their orchestral score. Some of us don’t care to appreciate it.

As for God of War 1, I guess you can call it a video game classic. Most any male that enjoys a modicum of violence will find an accessible and entertaining outlet of rage to vent out frustrations stemming from their relationship. It’s certainly still the high point of the series, or at least unless God of War 3 ups the god-body count many times over.

4 ½ stars

Mass Effect 2: Shepherd fucks his sheep

Previously on Mass Effect, a battle-hardened but promiscuous captain with the gender-neutral name of “Shepherd” is created by the player…I mean “appointed” by an intergalactic council to stop an ugly alien foe from thrashing and smashing the galaxy with his giant talking spaceship. To combat this menace, Shepherd is given an Enterprise-like vehicle with an obedient crew, asked to appoint a team of multi-species specialists to assist both your tactical and sexual needs, and run through Inventory of your cargo bay in the form of the ridiculous micro-management of fictional weapons and equipment. It was a hybrid of nerd fantasies glued together by a solid plot and a film grain, and now we have Mass Effect 2 to further satisfy the demand of alien sex and video filters.

So the game begins with Shepherd falling victim to the obligatory stat-resetting tragedy to explain why you begin the game with no good weapons, funky psi-powers, and the choice to change characters classes. I guess we can call it “Metroid Primism.” At least as far as Metroid Primisms go, Mass Effect 2 raises the bar in the despair department. Regardless, Shepherd makes a comeback, and baptized as the new corporate slave for a giant alien-hating organization called Cerberus, and thus a new quest is born.

Cerberus’s plan for combating the threat of the Reapers and their goon-of-the-months in the Collectors; go on Workopolis and send applications for top squadmates. Much of your game time is spent seeking out and recruiting qualified buddies. For you see, snipers and foot soldiers are best equipped to combat giant living spaceships. I don’t know, I’m not the one with the business degree. The Illusive Man clearly knows more about this stuff than I do. Just about the only “RPG” element of this “action-RPG” comes in your ability to travel from planet to planet and have multi-branching conversations with all that cross your path. The dialogue is mostly well-written, and having the ability to press X to fast forward a conversation is always an appreciated addition for skimmers like me.

The most interesting aspects of the Mass Effect 2 storyline stems from the diverse set recruits themselves. You know, because every RPG needs a diverse cast of nutcases with conflicting personalities that would never be grouped together in a real tactical strike. Each of these allies has a backstory that can often be summed up with the phrase “DADDY ISSUES”. In turn, you can perform side quests (the game’s best quests) to win their favor and make them more potent Collector scalp-collectors. (And possibly dock your spaceship in the port between their thighs.) As for the main plot, the game spends its entirety building towards a “suicide mission”, and this final sequence certainly lives up to the hype. Considering how so many games today seem to fall flat near the climax, it’s good to see a title that peaks in quality and suspense at the end, as opposed to the Dante’s Inferno “start strong and stop caring at the end because we ran out of development time” setup. And while the main quest is wrapped up and given a satisfying conclusion, I was left feeling like Mass Effect 2 was the middle child, the Two Towers, the Dead Man’s Chest of the franchise. Pieces are laid out to set up Mass Effect 3 as a destiny-shaping final chapter, with this game designed to establish the major players.

And there’s the damned morality issue. Shepherd has a good and evil meter, billed as “Paragon” and “Renegade.” And while these entities are kept separate as to avoid punishing those who flip-flop beliefs like John Kerry, there’s still the instilled mentality that you are rewarded for preferring one style over the other at the expense of expressing your true feelings. I prefer Dragon Age’s system of “no morality meter” and simply letting the player alter major events based on their opinions, beliefs or which race he or she thought had better hair. If you import your Shepherd from Mass Effect 1 (and you will, because people who haven’t played Mass Effect 1 are going to be so lost to want to play Mass Effect 2), certain decisions you made before will carry over to Mass Effect 2. These don’t seem to be overwhelming, game-altering changes (though I wouldn’t know, since I only played through Mass Effect once and I don’t think the Krogans have forgiven me since) but they do add a sense of coherence between the two games. That said, I’m expecting the choices I made in Dragon Age to completely alter the events of Dragon Age 2, what with me having completely ruined the course of Fereldin’s history and all.

Mass Effect 2 plays more like a straight action game than anything else, which comes as a shock since Bioware has such a rep for Dungeons and Dragons-themed RPGs. Seriously, I think most of their staff determines breakfast with a dice roll. You and two squadmates take cover and shoot enemies in the head like it’s either 1999 or like they’re going for the “Party like it’s 1999” Achievement from Gears of War 2. The mechanics feel tighter than in the last game, with your AI allies knowing better than to get in the way of your fire, and your enemies kind of realistically falling to the might of your sniper laser. A lot of how you approach battle will depend on what class of Shepherd you’ve bred, and which of your sheepmates you’ve chosen to flock with on the mission. You will have to spend about 15 seconds of thought to determine which allies are best equipped for an upcoming mission, and another 10 choosing which guns to arm yourself with. (You could choose your teammates’ armament, but that’s caring a lot more for the little things than I would like.) The action levels are more quantity than quality; the game has a lot of stages, and while there aren’t any annoying stinkers or stages that just go on forever, there’s nothing that approaches the pre-scripted drama of a Gears of War or Uncharted. Still, at least you won’t be bored to tears or rarely made to sit down and grind through a batch of infinite-respawning enemies. And without giving anything away, the game’s antagonist “Harbinger” must be made into an internet meme.

The good news is that all of the equipment issues from Mass Effect 1 have been streamlined in a manner that people who don’t actually live in the Mass Effect universe (i.e. the imagination of the writer) can deal with. No longer will you ask yourself if an N7 Avenger is a better firearm than a BF5 Vindicator. Now, the differences in firearms are more to do with preferences than stats; do you want the wild rapid fire gun or the short, accurate fire bursts? Or maybe you prefer a rocket launcher to a laser beam? You also have less ability choices to upgrade when leveling up your Shepherd, furthering the idea that Mass Effect 3 will probably be less Knights of the Old Republic and more like Doom. Instead of fumbling with equipment, you unlock permanent upgrades from a terminal on your ship, using assorted minerals to purchase them. Minerals that you obtain by plundering and pillaging other planets like the true homo sapien you are. I’m sure there’s some kind of commentary on human history here, on how Shepherd visits uninhabited planets and rapes them of their precious resources. The catch is that there’s a painfully monotonous mini-game about scanning the planet and launching probes to punish you the pirate for planet-raiding with boredom. By comparison, “credits” are the real in-game currency, and you’ll amass so many of them that you’ll automatically go on a shopping spree of any retailer you run across on your journey. At least it’ll be fitting character if you made your Shepherd female.

And I wish the load times were a bit faster. They’re not dreadful, but traversing different floors on your spaceship to hit on different members of the crew takes more time than it should. It’s especially heartbreaking to find out you can only focus your hormones on one at a time. Maybe installing the game on the hard drive would help. I don’t know, my hard drive is already occupied by Grand Theft Auto expansions about homosexuals and Rock Band songs written by them.

But that is more of a minor burden to be made into carrying. Mass Effect 2 is strong. It’s the combination of a solid action game with a more than solid storyline to motivate the player. Most of my issues stem from the fact that I still have fond memories of Dragon Age at the front of my lobe, plus the middle child of a trilogy can only do so much to compete while hyping up its final installment. If you liked Mass Effect 1, you’ll like Mass Effect 2. And if you didn’t, you’ll probably like Mass Effect 2 anyways. But the cornerstone in both arguments is that you need to have finished Mass Effect 1 to truly appreciate the package given to you. Otherwise, it’s hard to give a damn as to why the Krogans are perpetually angry folk with a “The South will rise again” state of mind.

4 stars