Mega Derived

I’m an honest guy. People who meet me often take a few precious seconds to reflect on how authentic I am. This is, of course, not true. Which is why I’m such a bitter critic, shamefully deciding the fate of games long before they’ve actually been released. I’ve come into a bit of money lately, so I booted up my 360 and shopped around the demos on Marketplace to see what wonderful summer games I could waste my earnings on. Overall, I think I’m going to save the money, maybe use it to ply unsuspecting women with alcohol so I can lure them back into my sweaty, nerdy basement and cry to them about how nobody loves me and why it’s so hard to get a girlfriend.

Here’s what I found:

Stuntman: Ignition

It’s like they took those “Hot Laps” - where you had to memorise each corner and the entire track layout to get gold - from Burnout and made it into an entire racing game about performing stunts over fields of lava and stuff. That’s pretty cool!

Will buy second-hand in three months when it’s really cheap.

Juiced 2: Hot Import Nights

The title is clearly a product of crossing pornography with a lousy racing game. Hell, if it had more titties in it might be a little better. Car customisation is tedious, having you choose which set of neon lights you want beaming out from the underside of your car doesn’t make it any more fun.

Will never buy.

Flatout 2: Ultimate Carnage

You know, I imagine the fans of this series will say that comparisons with Burnout aren’t really fair and that Flatout deserves to be seen as a quality racing game in its own right. When the developers of Flatout are even ripping off their menu interface straight out of Burnout, however, I find it a little hard to be impressed.

It might be worth a tenner.

Never have the words “Checkpoint Reached” been so gratifying as when I see them in Call of Duty 2, Infinity Ward’s fairly seminal World War II based FPS sequel that propelled the Xbox 360’s launch out of the realms of miserable failure and into a rather murky area of tolerable. Almost decent enough at the time to allow one to forgive the lacklustre array of launch titles, it retrospectively allows us to blot out the mess that less than sterling titles such as Perfect Dark Zero and King Kong left upon the collective minds of the tech-hungry 360 early adopter.

I’m late in playing CoD2 properly, leading to a tardy review, but from the sheer amount of joy I exhibited through a good eighty percent of the campaign, I’d say its appeal is still very current. Recent stirrings into Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare have reignited a spark of interest in the series that developer Treyarch lost by thrusting an inadequate Call of Duty 3 onto a world with very high expectations. In the wake of this Call of Duty 4 frenzy, there is no better time than now to experience, or re-experience, its predecessor. Time has taught us that the game was a resounding success, met with a critical accolade that few could have honestly expected. It’s quite hard to pin down what makes CoD2 so special, especially when I treated it with disgust upon launch and unfairly lumped it into the same category as Brothers in Arms, a game that only excels in its seamlessly insulting combination of faux-homage and tiresome gameplay. How could I have been so wrong?

My only possible reasoning can be in the choice of difficulty setting. On my first playthrough in 2005, I waded through the game on normal difficulty, bashing the ten campaigns out of the way in the course of an afternoon. Call of Duty 2 was too easy. It was wasted on me. I never got the time to appreciate Infinity Ward’s masterpiece of design, a sombre impact of the levels and scenery juxtaposed with intense carnage and aural frenzy; otherwise peaceful settings that were being destroyed by the theatre of war as you played through them. I never got to experiment with the weapons - each of them feeling weighty, vicious and authentic - as I had no need; the game was a breeze, I had no reason to explore the ins and outs of the fighting as you could decimate the entire Nazi war machine with little more than a sneeze.

This is not how the campaign plays out on Veteran difficulty. Forever being forced to duck behind cover, you, as a player, are forced into a lethal exercise of attack and defend. Some enemies will be flanking you, others firmly entrenching themselves behind deep cover, popping their Hitler-worshipping noggins out to take a few pot-shots at you and your comrades. You need to adjust your style to accommodate the defeat of both, but one thing continually remains; you are fragile. Your health recharges, but the enemy is a decent shot and being on the receiving end of even a small spurt of SMG rounds will have you staring at your demise. Veteran poses a whole new kind of challenge, one that demands a whole new kind of outlook. CoD2 becomes a slower, more intense experience where you learn to appreciate the value of staying alive, slowly edging closer and closer towards your goals whilst falling victim to a constant barrage of grenades and bullets.

The essence of the game is linear. Linearity is not, in itself, a bad thing; Infinity Ward’s penchant for tight, slick scripted sequences demand a linear experience. The game is unapologetic about it, too. It’s confident with itself and this, in turn, impresses the audience. It features the inclusion of no modern gimmicks, relying only on its crafted levels to shock and awe. If you stop to take in your surroundings you will likely be disappointed, especially in our post-Gears world. Environments are not beautifully designed or textures, and the settings are the epitome of cliché. It’s rare to see, but the atmosphere in CoD2 comes from the sound and the gameplay itself, mixing together to provide one of the most convincing fictional explorations of World War II ever produced.

For all its merit, it’s romanticised portrayal of World War II is something that all players should consider before embarking on it’s frantic journey. Its inclusion of quotes from various influential figures in history could be considered a touch crass; especially the quotes that deal with the horror of war and the folly of it’s glamorisation. It’s by no means worse than the presentation of war in Saving Private Ryan and similar ilk, but it can occasionally prove irksome. Comforting, then, that Infinity Ward seem like a studio that really care about the history behind their game, instead of just using the struggle of millions to slap together an uninteresting action game. Gearbox and Ubisoft, I’m talking about you.

It’s a clever game, an influential one, that both rewrites its genre whilst laughing triumphantly against the mood of current gaming trends. Exploration and freedom are cast aside in what can only be described as the most apt setting to do so. Events are entirely scripted and, at times, it feels like the game is quite happy to carry on without you. Whilst the elements of the game are entirely linear, it creates an experience that feels dynamic and, dare I say it, authentic. Enemies rush out of buildings and assemble themselves into military formations, ducking and weaving in an out of cover with each other in an attempt to flank your squad. But, as you reload for the sixth time, what once looked like a clever display of AI programming is revealed to be a remarkable display of game scripting. Call of Duty 2 stays with you; I swear I’ve heard the sound of a grenade clinking nearby in every game I’ve played since. The sound of rain, too, has become synonymous with CoD 2’s machine gun fire. Call of Duty 2 isn’t perfect, but it’s one of the most memorable games I’ve played in a long time.

Writing is tough, folks. Since the middle of June, I’ve been going through what one would describe as a writers block. Which is a bit of a shame, really. It’s not like maintaining a crude blog could be considered challenging. Before that, I was caught up in my exams and working a rather drab minimum wage job; one of the prerequisites of my gaming blog is that I actually have to be playing games. It’s a real shame that it’s been almost three months since I last made a post and I will now diligently be spending time sorting my act out.

Since university closed it doors on me and ejected me back into cold, miserable reality I’ve been knocking the games down quicker than my income can reasonably afford. Which, inevitably, leads me to the exploration of my back catalogue; truly a mark of the summer gaming drought. Only, there’s a whole bevy of unquestionably quality titles still fresh on the market with Forza 2, Colin McRae: DiRT and The Darkness leading the pack and assembling an unexpected summertime trinity of delight for the 360. I haven’t even started on DiRT and The Darkness yet, either, because I’ve been working away at Call of Duty 2, Hitman: Blood Money, Marvel: Ultimate Alliance, Fight Night Round 03, God of War 2 and Tomb Raider: Anniversary. I have a lot of stuff to get through.

Clearly, I’m not suffering from a gamers block. Back on the writing side I have, however, occasionally been chipping in and contributing to the mumbly, cantankerous delight that is Curmudgeon Gamer. Again, not as much as I should, but you can occasionally spot a rather insipid rant penned by myself over there these days.