• The game disc.
• A map.
• A warranty card.
• A live account membership.
• A manual.

Sadly absent are any of the following items:

• Skull fragments.
• A shiv.
• 9mm anti-personnel rounds.
• A gramme of Heroin.
• A pre-filed Jack Thompson lawsuit.

7/10.

It’s especially commendable that you insisted on enforcing these rules at your outlet at the Ocean Terminal in Leith, Edinburgh. Other, lesser retailers would be lax in adhering to such stringent laws in such a quiet branch of their store, instead welcoming any potential custom with open arms. However, we here at HWC understand that you must present a united front as a company and if that means refusing to sell to a lowly opportunist like us, then so be it. After all, customers like myself - people who seek to take advantage of circumstances and who, upon spotting a branch of GAME that could scarcely be less popular if it were staffed entirely be Velociraptors and relocated to the Moon, would immediately pounce in an attempt to pick up some overstock - deserve to be punished.

Well done GAME, you’re our number one.

Slipping off topic for a moment, I read a couple of days ago (in the wholly reliable Metro newspaper) that Dougray Scott narrowly missed out on the part of James Bond to Daniel Craig, and while Mr. Craig has now cemented himself as the new 007, Dougray has had to settle for playing opposite a bald man in the film adaptation of Hitman. That is disappointment. What we have in the case of Assassin’s Creed is nothing of the sort. It has its flaws, and its frustrations, but the experience of playing it is as far away from disappointment as 47 is from Bond.

By way on an introduction it’s fair to say that Assassin’s Creed is a schizophrenic jaunt that can’t decide if it’s a period piece or a science fiction saga. As a result is sits somewhat jarringly in between the two like the picture Ridley Scott would have made had he decided to shoot Kingdom of Heaven and Blade Runner at the same time, and on the same canister of film. Predominantly set in the Holy Land at the time of the Crusades, the convoluted story shuttles between the perspectives of Altair, a master assassin attempting to bring peace to the troubled region and Desmond, his distant modern-day descendant. While this wouldn’t normally be a complaint in an industry where plots mainly revolve around killing the bad guy and rescuing the princess, it’s the manner in which it’s presented that causes annoyance; being pulled out of your role as a 12th century death dealer and forced into the frame of Desmond, an ineffectual and imprisoned bartender, doesn’t do anything for the flow of the game, especially when it leaves the player jabbing at the X button in the vain hope that Desmond will somehow take out his captors with whatever pointy instrument happens to come to hand.

Complaints about the irrelevant sci-fi backdrop aside, the game itself has a number of problems that strike within the first few hours of play. The first of which is the decision to let you start the game with Altair as an apparent master of all the required assassination techniques, then having him mysteriously and inexplicably forget them all in the space of about ten minutes. I can understand why it was introduced, to provide some sense of character progression, but the fact that a simple action such as stopping yourself being thrown around like a rag-doll (something most non-assassins learned to do while dodging bullies in the primary school playground) takes a good four of five hours to relearn is encroaching on the tedious.

On top of this, the combat and the game’s trademark free-running (which allows you to clamber over buildings and jump across rooftops like a monkey on methamphetamine) are repetitive and feel overly simplistic. You could say that this makes both the combat and movement intuitive, but all that really means is that one button does pretty much everything. For instance, a combination of perilous drops and a blind jumps requiring inch-perfect precision, the sort that would have Jackie Chan looking for an alternative route, can often be overcome simply by running at them with the A button held down.

The game’s mission (and I use the singular here as the nine you are asked to complete are simply clones of the first, presented in different accents) is part detective story, part assassination and almost entirely stealth free. While you may be under the impression that the game is about the poisoned blade in the crowd and the unseen assailant, it more often than not comes down to a steeplechase through the crowded streets as you run your mark down in plain sight of, well, just about everybody. Meanwhile, the detective element of the mission is seemingly there only to give purpose to the viewpoints: high points of the city that can be scaled to reveal the locations of various clues. The viewpoints themselves are really nothing more than places where the engine can show off its impressive draw distance. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s possible to overstate how beautiful the cities look, and the views from these lofty locations are both stunning and vertigo inducing in equal measure. However, you sometimes get the impression that the visuals came first and the game was built around them.

By this point, you’re probably wondering why, with all the criticism I’ve been throwing at it in the previous six hundred words, I’ve decided that this game isn’t a disappointment. The reason is simple: It’s a great deal of fun. For all the holes you can pick in it, and believe me you could pick enough holes in it to make its Jerusalem sandstone look like pumice, it still emanates fun like a radioactive clown. Escaping guards, leaping from minarets and quietly dropping Templars in abandoned back-alleys, all of it is so ridiculously enjoyable that you don’t care that you’re doing it for the umpteenth time. Therein lies the problem, write it out on paper and there are more crosses in the con’s column than the pro’s. There’s no arguing with that, however, such a list is incapable of capturing what drove me to happily sink thirty hours into completing the game (and making an attempt on all of its side quests) or my sadness that, having completed it, I was no longer able to access the game world. The game manages to convey a real sense of tension while dispatching your targets (or fleeing when you’re rumbled) , and anxiety when dangling from a ledges one hundred feet off the ground, and it often succeeds in getting the adrenaline flowing. It’s able to inspire genuine excitement and anticipation, and that counts for a lot.

In conclusion, I thoroughly enjoyed Assassin’s Creed in spite of its issues, so much so that I would seriously consider recommending it as one of the titles of the year, and while I wished they’d finished this one properly, I can’t say I’m not looking forward to a sequel.

7/10

Mass Effect is a sci-fi RPG (and alien love simulator) for the 360 and is available now from all good stockists.

• Signed, preferably laminated, publicity photographs of Jade Raymond™.
• Jade Raymond™ scented bath and/or massage oil.
• Any bags containing fingernail trimmings/hair/skin scrapings or other organic matter possibly found in Jade Raymond™’s bathroom rubbish basket.

Here’s hoping that Ubisoft are merely saving them for the collectors’ edition.

7/10

This incarnation adds a few bells and whistles to the existing mechanic, but sensibly keeps control alterations to a minimum. The most notable of the new additions is the ability to carry and deploy an array of support equipment such as shields and energy replenishers. Feasibly such artefacts could bring a new element of strategy to the gameplay, but I found myself neglecting them throughout the single player missions; opting instead for the old-fashioned blasting that has become the game’s forte.

It also adds a slew of new weapons and vehicles to the fray. Despite the developer’s indecision about how heavy the guns are (apparently the ‘Needler’ was heavy in Halo, light as a feather in Halo 2, but has once again porked-up for this instalment), the new weapons are a welcome expansion to the arsenal. Indeed, the gravity hammer alone deserves plaudits for the comedy value it introduces.

The new vehicles are also a worthwhile inclusion. While there may be questions over just who’s responsible for designing the Covenant’s new motors, moving as they have from sleek Ferrari lines to Massey Ferguson stylings, they’re certainly a lot of fun provided the right environment. The most successful of the new collection by far though is the ‘Hornet’, a human aircraft that is responsible for many of the highlights of the campaign.

Following the proven Halo formula, showing off more polygons than ever before and boasting some gleeful moments of pure brilliance (all the sections involving the Hornets for example) the single player campaign should be an outright success. However, with all that said, I still find myself having to put away the praising duster and brandish the criticism hammer.

Sadly, Halo 3 is an enjoyable and entertaining experience for only around two-thirds of the single player campaign. After this point it becomes a tarted up version of ‘System Shock 2‘; not in the atmospheric ‘BioShock’ sense, but in the let’s-rip-off-the-tedious-bit-at-the-end-that-no-one-ever-talks-about-because-it-was-terrible sense. Suddenly the fun of the previous six or so hours is replaced with an arduous slog through a glistening and parasite-infested bowel. Even going so far as to replicate Shodan’s taunts with interjections from the under defined ‘Gravemind’. This endoscopic adventure is an outing that Master Chief, combat proctologist, could and should have done without.

Once beyond that section (and believe me there were times when I thought I really wouldn’t bother), there is only a little respite before the ‘boss’ ‘fight’. Here the game proceeds to segue into another familiar gaming experience and in some bizarre time shift we’re taken out of the 360 generation and back to the days of ‘Duck Hunt’ on the NES. A game, for those who haven’t played it, in which the player need only stand still and shoot; though this recreation lightens the demand on the player somewhat by insisting that the ‘duck’ stay perfectly motionless for the duration. This ‘battle’ while poorly conceived is at least blissfully short, but moving past the boss we’re again shunted through space-time into another deja-vu encounter from yesteryear.

As with the first outing, Cortana’s ultimate exit strategy is devised with the help of Ivan ‘Ironman’ Stewart, who believes off-roading hasn’t played a large enough role in the game thus far. To rectify this the player is forced to make his escape in the driving seat of the ‘Warthog’. As I previously mentioned, all the vehicles are fun to use provided they’re given the right environment. To be more specific, the right environment should be defined as any playing area large enough to accommodate their boat-like handling. In spite of this, the final level of the game is lifted from Atari’s 1986 classic ‘Marble Madness’; though the developers were kind enough to replace the Slinkies and acid pools of the original with endless hordes of Flood.

Taking your leave through an unstable and infested maze; doing your best to keep the car on the black stuff, out of the Flood and away from the Hoovers, you find yourself forgetting all of the great moments that lead you to this point. Your thoughts are instead full of bowel and Flood and frustration; desperate for this not-so-excellent adventure through time to be over and done with just so you can collect the gamerpoints you’re owed and get out.

Not only does this result in a disappointing conclusion to series, but it repeats the mistakes seen in the previous games. While Halo had its Library, Halo 3 undoubtedly trumps it with its frustrating and hollow end-game. The crying shame however, is that this irritating and lazy last couple of hours unfairly detracts from the enjoyment of the rest of the campaign.

7/10.

That said, even Games Radar who appear to be ‘breaking’ the story, aren’t sure:

“Very little solid information about the game has been given; not even the platforms upon which the game will appear. However, this trailer should be more than enough to send the hardcore fighting game fans out there crumbling to their knees in awestruck anticipation.”

And by trailer they mean “possibly-indirectly-related-video-sequence”, although it is as sexy as all hell.

Go. Look upon it and hope.

According to those somewhat sugar-coated army-jobs videos that pop up during advert breaks, the British Army pilots its remote unmanned spy planes using 360 controllers. While I like the idea of ARMYMODUK unlocking achievements and racking up high scores for Queen and country, I can’t say I’m entirely happy with their choice of peripheral.

The original X-Box’s controller was, as everyone remembers, the size of a bear. The Japanese version of it: the “Controller S”, however, was lovely and deserves a spot in the joystick hall of fame (and such a hall of fame should be established to hold it). Following on from that success, Microsoft created the 360 controller. Similar in size and layout to the “Controller S” the 360 controller differs from its last generation counterpart in one important aspect: it has one of the worst directional pads in the entire world.

Now, I’m all for the military keeping its technology up to date, but I don’t feel comfortable with the prospect of life and death decisions being made using a such a device. If it can’t be guaranteed to put descending blocks where you intended in Lumines, how can it be relied upon in a combat situation?

Besides, if we’re prepared to use toys during war then where will the adoption of civilian gaming devices end? I for one do not wish to see Armageddon ushered in by an elderly General and his grandchildren waving Wiimotes around in front of the War Room’s threat-board while the PM authorises nuclear strikes on a DDR mat; I don’t care how many gamer points it’s worth.

]]> http://www.headwillcollapse.net/2007/10/17/armymoduk/feed/ http://www.headwillcollapse.net/2007/10/16/award-losing-radio/ http://www.headwillcollapse.net/2007/10/16/award-losing-radio/#comments Tue, 16 Oct 2007 22:49:13 +0000 Fat Conan http://www.headwillcollapse.net/2007/10/16/award-losing-radio/ One Life Left aired its 50th episode at 9pm tonight and it once again showed why it’s Europe’s number 1, and now an officially award-losing, gaming radio show. Boasting tales of drunken awards parties, condemnation of grumpy presenters and a sackful of self-deprecating humour this episode is one of the best; even its news was relevant. So relevant in fact that it was more aware of the transformation of Princes Street’s HMV branch than I was, despite stopping in there at least twice a week and travelling past it on a daily basis on the way to and from work.

It seems that HMV has decided to run a pioneering scheme here in Edinburgh to allow customers to play games in a brand new communal gaming-zone (well, gaming basement it would appear) for the sum of £5 every 3 hours. As part of this initiative, the lower level of the store has been overhauled to make room for several gaming-pods in X-Box green and white (of course glistening with Microsoft’s requisite level of ’shiny’) and a haul of HD televisions. There are twenty-seven 360s in total (and presumably as many televisions) crammed into the room. It all looks as clean and new as those Sega Worlds did when they first opened; before the management discovered that British ‘youths’ prefer vandalism and casual violence to Outrun cabinets.

It opens on Friday and I give it a month before a. it smells faintly of sick; b. half the controllers have failed due to abuse and c. someone’s been stabbed after winning a Halo 3 deathmatch.

HMV is a large shop at the West End. One Life Left on the other hand can be found Tuesdays at 9pm on Resonance FM.

A party at the cave last Saturday night saw Fat Conan and friends flicking through some retro titles on the old X-Box looking for something to rekindle those memories of yore. It was pretty successful too, with people enjoying games of “Rampart”, “Q*Bert“ and “Missile command”. However, what generated more interest (and more frustration) were some of the titles spotted along the way that intrigued us with their bawdy names and disappointed us with their refusal to work on the box’s MAME port.

On Sunday, freshly hung-over and yellow tongued, Fat Conan and I sat down (or rather I sat and he squatted with haunches quivering in ever-alert battle-readiness) and had a look at getting those titillating games running on the PC (for curiosity’s sake of course). We succeeded and never before have we so wished we’d failed.

The Japanese can always be relied upon for bringing a little bit of creepy to even the most mundane of activities. So is the case with our first entry “Pachinko Sexy Reaction” from Sammy: publishers of the bizarre, but brilliant, Guilty Gear series of fighting games.

The first stop on this quick tour of the more odd and disturbing games MAME has to offer, is probably also the most tasteful (if you can believe that) with its simple premise of “play Pachinko for animé booby reward”. Pachinko, for those who’ve not encountered it before, is basically pinball without the flappers. The player buys metal balls to feed into the machine in the hope of winning more metal balls. This version of the game, while entirely electronic, simulates that experience accurately; albeit with more explosions and nudity than one might expect.

Game-play is simple: press button A repeatedly. That’s about it. If you’re feeling adventurous you could try moving the joystick around, but for the most part this seems pretty redundant. Meanwhile, the story is somewhat opaque (mainly as it’s conveyed in a language of which I have no understanding and partly because I find it difficult to visualise any obvious connection between ball-bearings and breasts), but seems to involve women that either hate or love that you’re playing the game, invariably stripping-off regardless of their feelings so long as you continue to press A and feed credits into the machine.

Somewhat surprisingly, it’s actually reasonably well presented considering its content, certainly it’s a few thousand times more refined than the next offering on the list. Say hello, and quickly goodbye, to “Poker Ladies”.

“Poker Ladies” is a strip poker arcade cabinet (which raises the question of where on God’s Earth you’d put such a machine) that features terrible graphics, laughable sound effects and a little bit of bestiality. You can’t make this stuff up.

While the poker aspect of the game works pretty much as you’d expect, the strip part is where the “action” really happens. Each “female” opponent has three levels of nakedness: first clothed; then topless and lastly naked and being in some way molested by the player. The more hands you win, the further you proceed through the levels. The third level is by far the strangest thing I’ve seen in a while: bashing button A triggers a rather pathetic animation of your opponent involved in some form of devious act,. These acts range from her being groped by disembodied hands to having her nipple licked by a snake. Again, you can’t make this stuff up.

What really makes this one special however, are not the seedy animations or the crappy graphics, but the sound effects. The game uses digitised speech frequently and its quality is beyond poor. It’s one thing to see a woman getting a little reptile action in a poker game, but having her slurring on like the Elephant man while she’s at it is something else altogether. Here’s a little sample of what I mean: the “you lose” phrase that’s played after every losing hand. Thanks, Mitchell (who apparently own the copyright) for allowing me to find out what it’d be like to play poker against a lobotomised hooker.

Scraping the very bottom of the barrel reveals the last in this trio of “erotic” classics. This one lacks the both the sophistication and charm of the previous two, which were themselves both charmless and degenerate. This one’s a horror. Ladies and Gentlemen “Miss World ‘96 – Nude”.

So what is it? At its core it’s essentially a “Qix” clone that reveals a photograph of a naked woman as regions of the screen are claimed. When I first saw the game I had assumed that it was a home-brew effort; perhaps written by someone alone in their bedsit, cobbling together function definitions and data-structures between alternating periods of masturbation and sobbing. Sadly however, this looks like it was a genuine arcade machine, which once again begs the question of where all these pseudo-porn arcades reside.

In an innovative (and by innovative I mean inexplicable) twist on the “Qix” formula the makers added a bar at the top of the screen that is divided into two zones, one blue, one red. A marker on the bar shows your current level. Exactly what this indicates and what criteria define your current level are a mystery. The bar’s marker and its proportion of red to blue fluctuate as the game is played. The only consistent aspect of this indicator (at least as far as Fat Conan and I could tell) is that when your marker enters the red zone an animation pops up showing a girls face transforming into that of a werewolf with the phrase “turning…” printed beneath it. At this point the naked lady in the background is replaced with some Clive Barker-esque demonic figure and the soundtrack replaced with some throbbing (and equally horrible) techno beats.

A quick rummage around the interweb reveals that this game isn’t (to everyone’s surprise) an official license of the Miss World brand; a fact the organisers of the competition seemed a little miffed about at the time. Who can blame them? For all the criticism you could ladle on the Miss. World contest, it’s not once left me wanting to scrub my skin with AJAX. Sure, it’s made me think: “Shouldn’t we really move beyond these sorts of outmoded, shallow and arguably sexist forms of entertainment” but it’s never made me want to shave away my corneas with a narrow gauge cheese grater. That’s more than can be said of this nightmare inducing namesake.

So there you have it; three of the most bizarre takes on erotica I’ve seen and all compatible with MAME for those of you who can’t resist trying it for yourselves. If you enjoy a little masochism then these are some of the less dangerous ways of humiliating and degrading yourself, if not then for God’s sake avoid them like the plague.

“Pachinko Sexy Reaction”, “Poker Ladies” & “Miss World ‘96 – Nude” overall score: Fat Conan and I are off to pawn our eyes/10