"But will anything change? You expect some revolution? Well, a dog can't do shit. Has a dying country ever created anything worth its salt?"
You open the door and hear the telltale giggle of Heaven Smile off in the distance.
Take aim.
Shoot.
Reload.
Turn the corner.
Another Heaven Smile.
Take aim. Rinse. Repeat.
Killer7 is a 2005 railshooter/adventure game about the titular Killer7, a group of assassins hired by the U.S. Government to foil a plot by the UN to place the world under Japanese rule; while also dealing with a rouge terrorist faction of mutant suicide bombers known as the Heaven Smiles. What ensues is a political drama the likes of which defies all explanation honestly. In between discussions about Japan's lack of autonomy as a nation, the long-lasting ramifications American imperialism has had on it's allies, and the cyclical nature of conflict, there's shootouts with an anime girl cosplayer, bullet headbutting, and a chapter dedicated to a super sentai hitsquad. It's this delicate balancing act between the absurd and the profound that makes Killer7 so inherently compelling.
The on-rails control scheme is somewhat obtuse but once you can get used to it you will find one of the most audibly rewarding games you will ever play. The sound design in Killer7 is top-notch: guns sound incredible to fire, the ambient background noises in each level really sell the mood of each location, the telltale laugh of a Heaven Smile is masterfully mixed, letting you know exactly where and how close they are to your location. That little guitar lick that plays every time a puzzle is solved? It's better than sex! It's an utterly engrossing experience that must be played to be believed. Every single sound has been hand-crafted to feel incredibly satisfying to hear, it's insane!
Killer7 is a game that I know I'll still be thinking about for a while. It's a culturally relevant game that burns with indignant anger at the world and it's ways, at the constant empty promises of change, and at the lingering, faceless, agency-lacking shadow of a nation left behind due to the actions of men who do not know how to curb their excess.
"Harman, the world won't change. All it does is turn."
You open the door and hear the telltale giggle of Heaven Smile off in the distance.
Take aim.
Shoot.
Reload.
Turn the corner.
Another Heaven Smile.
Take aim. Rinse. Repeat.
Killer7 is a 2005 railshooter/adventure game about the titular Killer7, a group of assassins hired by the U.S. Government to foil a plot by the UN to place the world under Japanese rule; while also dealing with a rouge terrorist faction of mutant suicide bombers known as the Heaven Smiles. What ensues is a political drama the likes of which defies all explanation honestly. In between discussions about Japan's lack of autonomy as a nation, the long-lasting ramifications American imperialism has had on it's allies, and the cyclical nature of conflict, there's shootouts with an anime girl cosplayer, bullet headbutting, and a chapter dedicated to a super sentai hitsquad. It's this delicate balancing act between the absurd and the profound that makes Killer7 so inherently compelling.
The on-rails control scheme is somewhat obtuse but once you can get used to it you will find one of the most audibly rewarding games you will ever play. The sound design in Killer7 is top-notch: guns sound incredible to fire, the ambient background noises in each level really sell the mood of each location, the telltale laugh of a Heaven Smile is masterfully mixed, letting you know exactly where and how close they are to your location. That little guitar lick that plays every time a puzzle is solved? It's better than sex! It's an utterly engrossing experience that must be played to be believed. Every single sound has been hand-crafted to feel incredibly satisfying to hear, it's insane!
Killer7 is a game that I know I'll still be thinking about for a while. It's a culturally relevant game that burns with indignant anger at the world and it's ways, at the constant empty promises of change, and at the lingering, faceless, agency-lacking shadow of a nation left behind due to the actions of men who do not know how to curb their excess.
"Harman, the world won't change. All it does is turn."