Spoilers for FEAR 2 only discussed at the very bottom. Explicit spoilers for the first FEAR discussed throughout


FEAR 2 may be the most conflicted game I’ve ever played, and I’m not talking about my feelings. Like its numerical title, it genuinely feels like a tale of two devs; one who wanted to remake Half-Life 1 versus one who wanted to follow-up on the original FEAR, the result being a smorgasbord of unsatisfying elements wrapped up in a well-optimized package. It’s not bad by any means, however, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better case study in divisive visions, the story being the prime offender.

See, FEAR 2 acts as a sidepiece to the original game, taking place before, during, and after the nuclear event. And yet, what you’ll quickly realize is just how rehashed everything is: you’ve got a spec ops team sent in to stop an Armachan stooge, the discovery of some sickening corpo experiments, and a quiet protagonist boasting a secret connection to Alma. While such “requels” aren’t inherently bad (DKC2 is one of the GOAT video games after all), it’s the lackadaisicality here that hampers FEAR 2’s storytelling as rarely have I played a game that wanted to tell a tale yet simultaneously felt annoyed at having to do so. There was clearly someone at Monolith who had a grand framework in mind for what the game should be (to the point of retconning Extraction Point and Perseus Mandate+), only for their idea to get stuffed away for reasons unknown (this negative duality going back to what I was saying earlier about clashing goals).

If I had to hazard a guess, it was probably because of budgetary concerns - I’m not saying FEAR 1 was perfect, however its dedication to cutscenes and voiced exposition clearly indicated a veritable interest in narrative conveyance. Here, when you’re not being serenaded by the same boring dusty illusion of Alma, you’re treated to forgettable dialogue amidst oodles upon oodles of optional data that should NOT have been optional. I’ve never had an issue with supplementary material expanding upon a game’s mythology, but FEAR 2 takes laziness to new heights by throwing 90% of its explanations and answers into randomized computer files you have to go out of your way to find.

And it’s a shame because, if the info in those PDFs had been orated organically, we could’ve had a riveting sci-fi thriller at our fingertips; you get some genuinely disturbing revelations from a writing team that clearly knew the world they were operating in. Alas, as it stands, you’ll be spending the majority of your time following orders like a good little sycophant, a facet made all the more aggravating by Monolith going the silent hero route again. Mute leads are fine in tales where their personality has no bearing on the story; however, that is NOT the case here with main character Beckett, who serves as the impetus for most of Project Origin’s events courtesy of his unusual link to Alma(++). It becomes genuinely frustrating seeing him placed in situations that would warrant a human reaction, only for his silence to undermine the going-ons about you.

If that wasn’t bad enough, FEAR 2 is continuously plagued by the same two plot holes that ravaged its prequels, and no spoiler tags are necessary because these are literally copy/pasted verbatim. For starters, why are there two Almas? Even if I buy the logic that one represents the day her spirit died vs her body, the former should still be that of a teenager, not the 8-year-old girl you catch intermittently. Secondly, and without a doubt the most vexing, how is she simultaneously all-powerful and all-useless? Seriously, throughout the game she’s capable of vaporizing, brainwashing, and tossing humans about like ragdolls (in addition to, you know, generating hordes of the undead), yet you mean to tell me this same demon can somehow be shaken off? I get that omnipotent villains are hard to write, but the way Alma is scripted, it’s as though the developers didn’t even try to be cogent.

To the game’s credit, a couple mysteries from the first FEAR are cleared up here (such as Alma’s backstory and why certain characters have superhuman reflexes), but when it’s all done through discretionary notes, what you’re ultimately left with is a redux of Half-Life. No really, between the stripped-down narrative and pure obedience, it’s evident Project Origin was trying to go the Half-Life route of environmental storytelling over cinematic exposés, and while they are partially-successful (the school being a masterpiece of game design), even this initiative is brought down by the aforementioned budget cuts. Whereas Half-Life took you through a variety of locales ranging from labs to deserts to of course Xen, Project Origin sees you inside a plethora of drabby interiors indifferent from the numerous corridors you’ve witnessed time-and-time-again in other video games. Here’s a fact for you casuals -- when a game throws you into a subway station for an elongated period of time, it’s a sign that the studio was working with limited capital.

Thankfully, it all looks great courtesy of the LithTech Engine, which has seen a massive facelift from the first FEAR. Not only is the texture streaming superb, but the artisans at Monolith took the time to sculpt tiny little details into the majority of simulacra. During the course of my playthrough, for example, I came across the following minutiae: paintings with full-fledged descriptions etched under their frames, magazines with decked-out covers, towel racks with allocated labels, individual student signatures, guitar cases with specialized stickers, and children’s drawings constituting a variety of forms (like dinosaurs and cities) amongst a plethora of others. The amount of effort that went into crafting this setting is phenomenal, and the unsung artists behind such endeavors deserve all their flowers.

That said, be prepared to have your flashlight out 23/7 as this is an overly-dim game. Yes, it’s set in dingy buildings primarily at night, but that was no excuse for things to be this obscure as, even with the brightness turned up, I literally had to leave my torch on just to make out the ground in front of me (I also recommend turning off the film grain and head bobbing lest you procure a case of motion sickness).

When it comes to the gameplay, everyone knows the OG garnered fame for combining Max Payne’s bullet-time mechanic with slick shooting, and that formula’s been largely-translated to the sequel albeit with dumber AI. Those who read my review of FEAR 1 know that I wasn’t the biggest cheerleader of its enemy intelligence, but those guys were definitely a step above the swarms of thugs you’ll encounter here, who display no sense of tactic other than to trade suppressing fire and lob the occasional grenade. Hampering things further is the easier difficulty - in 1, your slowdown was countered by heavier bullet damage; in Project Origin, Beckett is much more durable, allowing you to abuse the system to a greater extent.

Finally, you’ve no doubt heard about the game’s lack of particle anarchy, and that’s definitely true. For better and for worse, this is a much more conventional FPS, and while you still get the odd extravagant effect like pill bottles popping and water surfaces ricocheting, I can’t deny something was lost with the diminishment of the original’s collateral damage (most items shot simply sprouting a bullet hole over exploding).

Sound isn’t the best either, with weapons, in particular, lacking the punch their previous incarnations had. Combine that with indistinguishable collision blasts and repetitive ghost wailing for the supernatural elements and you have a rather tepid soundscape. Still, I’ll take it over the score, which is obnoxious to a fault. When I was playing the game, I remember thinking how intrusive and cacophonous the music sounded, and unfortunately listening to it separately didn’t alleviate this memory as the vast majority of pieces are simply loud melodies. There technically is diversity, with my ear detecting electronica, native vocals, and even a zurna-esque instrument, but all of these additions are directed towards pure bombast instead of something memorable.

What’s particularly bizarre about FEAR 2’s score is the sheer number of tracks it has. The YouTube playlist identifies 80, and while that does include alternatives that didn't make it into the final release, it’s still a significant amount for a game under 8 hours. Heck, I’ve played numerous AAA games with significantly less music, and though it’s not a bad thing to include more tunes, the quality just wasn't there to justify their integration (not to mention I doubt most gamers will hear the lion’s share of them).

With regards to the voice acting, all I’ll say is it’s adequate. No one is especially strong, yet none detract from the experience either. And that’s a great way to describe FEAR 2 as a whole: a fine enough diversion. If you’re looking for an action game that’ll kill 7-8 hours of your time, you can’t go wrong here as the gunplay’s solid, visuals beautiful, and storybeats easy to follow. It’s just a shame the end product doesn’t live up to the potential someone at Monolith clearly hoped it would be, with the narrative being lackluster, Alma pathetic, and the horror elements poorly implemented. The palpable lethargy on display genuinely makes you wonder what happened between 1 and 2’s releases.

NOTES
-One cool sound effect is shooting pianos generates flat keyboard notes.

-For the record, not all the tracks are loud, but even the quieter ones like Return to Lobby and Principal’s Office have a noticeable thumping.

-Just like with the first game, FEAR 2 has its own out-of-place white nerd; Snakefist. Thankfully, he’s nowhere near as annoying as Mapes was.
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SPOILERS
+I naturally find such retcons to be pathetic in general, but what’s strange is it wasn't even necessary. Perseus Mandate focuses on a completely different thread, while the Point Man’s absence in FEAR 2 makes Extraction Point’s events unintrusive. Unless the argument is Alma can’t be in two places at once, I don’t see why Monolith chose to remove the DLCs from continuity.


++Beckett has a high stat called “telesthetic potential,” that makes him attractive to Alma to the point of her wanting to mate with him. It’s a juvenile set-up that isn’t properly explained (or if it was, was done so in the background) -- why does Alma randomly want to procreate when she already has two children out in the world (and can revive phantoms)? Why is it so easy for Beckett to resist her? If Alma is so desperate to copulate with Beckett, why does she let him waltz into dangerous situations instead of dispersing all enemies? How does she even succeed at the end when he manages to activate the machine (and, you know, blatantly doesn’t do the act….do the writers not know how sex works?). I also found it more than a bit creepy to have contrasting images of a naked adult Alma with her younger child version.
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Spoilers only discussed at the very bottom

Metro: Last Light is a case of one step forward, one step back: it makes a lot of improvements to its predecessor at the expense of some of its more unique elements, and while I ultimately enjoyed things more, I can definitely see said changes being viewed as derogatory by ardent fans.

Let’s start with the good, though: anyone who’s read my thoughts on 2033 knows my biggest gripes with it were the pseudo-sandbox schemes. See, much like Mirror’s Edge, 2033 boasted long-open playpens that ended up being fraudulent window dressing -- what originally appeared to be a wide array of opportunities quickly outed themselves as a glorified round of Minesweeper wherein any wrong move off the predesignated path landed you in hot water. It was annoying, it was cumbersome, and most importantly it made no sense- I remember once veering towards an adjacent tunnel only to get swallowed up by a vine critter, and it begged the question of why the devs even bothered granting such agency if they were just going to punish players who exercised it?

Well, luckily, Last Light has done away with this format, replacing things with fully linear-levels chock-full of soft and hard blocks. There are times where you can wander off a bit, but I always found these led to some enclosed barrier ripe with hidden caches rather than a secret death spring drummed up by some sadistic coder (and yes, this applies to the surface as well).

Another issue that’s been fixed is the lack of environmental variety. In 2033, you were tasked with traveling to a number of metro stations that didn’t look dissimilar from the other in spite of their ideological variance (this homogeneity, in turn, making you wonder whether you were actually progressing forward in the story). Now, however, 2A’s artisans have really kicked things into gear, drawing sharp lines amongst the Nazi and commie-inspired divergents, as well as all other factions in-between. Whether it’s the prisoner-of-war machinery of the Reichland, crimson-hued propaganda of the Red Line, or pleasure-district vibes of Venice, your travels will verily come across as continuous in-scope.

Finally, the plot is a lot more nuanced -- whereas 2033 occupied the Man vs. Monster schtick of B-Movie fame, Last Light strives to provide greater characterization to not only its humans, but also its forebearer’s antagonists. That’s right, to recap for those who forgot, the Dark Ones who assaulted Artyom’s compound are back, a member of their race having somehow survived his missile barrage. Because of this, Artyom’s boss orders him to eradicate it once and for all, and as you may expect, things don’t quite go according to plan: there’s more to this Survivor than meets the eye, and the other Metro sectors have a vested interest in capturing it too.

Unfortunately, this is also where I have to start bringing in those aforementioned “step back” motifs as Last Light’s story carries as many flaws as it does pros. For starters, there’s no real ethical grayness to any of the situations: yes, the Stalinists wanting a more unified Metro for easier rebuilding is admirable; however, their methods quickly render them mustache-twirling banditos morally-indistinguishable from their neighboring Reichsters. In addition, given that Artyom’s primary obstacles are Nazis and Communists, Last Light, as a whole, can’t help feeling like a conventional US military game at times (I know Metro author Dmitry Glukhovsky, who helped with the game’s script, is Russian, but I stand by this claim).

More importantly, though, I just did not like the complete role-reversal of the Dark Ones(+). While 4A’s expansion of their inner mythology and origins is cool, you’ll be hardpressed to find their motivations consistent with what Artyom underwent in his first title. Don’t get me wrong, the writers did a good job balancing this plotline with the discovery of the aforestated Red Line shenanigans, but because it consists of so many retcons, you’d think the game had a different scripter from 2033.

For my part, however, the biggest chink in Last Light’s story has to be its sufferance from TLOU problem of narrative impetus being at odds with world events. As you may expect, Artyom, objectively-speaking, has no time to rest-or-stop lest tragedy befalls his people, yet the writers concocted SO MANY optional conversations and situations for him to listen in on/participate in, that it makes you wonder whether there was a disconnect between the assistant and head writers: if the former were told to pen to their heart’s content whilst the latter secretly conspired to ascribe their work purely to player discretion. One of the worst moments, for example, sees Artyom find these targets he’s after, only to then be offered a lap dance by some stripper when, logically-speaking, he would’ve F%CKING FOLLOWED the bad guys he FINALLY found (and yes, I did partake in it, but tu quoque my dear).

You may retort, well Red, if it’s not-mandatory, what’s the big deal? Well, because the vast majority of eavesdroppable convos expand on the lore of the series, you’ll be missing out on a ton of stuff by avoiding them: whether it’s soldiers reflecting on a haunted situation that occurred earlier or civilians relating their immediate histories to their peers, these genuinely go a long way towards making the setting feel filled-in. The Metro series has always been universally praised for its atmosphere, and I wouldn’t be surprised if such banter played a part in that praise, especially given that the first game had moments where you’d be allowed to take a break and just explore the various hubs. Here, though, to see Artyom just dick around whilst his compadres and mission patiently wait for him to continue….I don’t know, it really affected my OCD. But, for those of you who care for a more tangible reason to be upset, know that rubbernecking apparently plays a role in the ending you get (more on that later).

Compounding these issues is the annoying fact that Artyom, once again, remains a pointlessly-silent protagonist, and I seriously don’t understand what the rationale behind this decision was. Not only is he an explicit character with his own thoughts and feelings, but 4A already went through the freaking process of casting a voice actor for the opening level scrolls, so what was the issue? I’m not saying Artyom had to speak constantly; however, there were so many instances where a few simple words would’ve gone a long way towards making his progression more organic than the hackneyed-nonsense you witness on hand(++).

And it’s a shame because there are collectable diary entries strewn throughout that highlight his keen intellect/observations regarding current events: how he interprets the Dark Ones as possibly deific; how he sees the continuing conflict between surviving humans as futile. Yet because it’s shoved into dispensable material and not explicitly-depicted, the man is fundamentally rendered a mute imbecile too ball-less to cogently express himself ala Link. To add salt to these wounds, those same journal scraps often contain vital story revelations & explanations, meaning if you missed out on any, there’s a chance you’re going to come away from a scene outright confused.

I don’t want to sound overly-negative as Last Light can get pretty compelling at times, but because its interesting philosophy was stripped from the mainline narrative, what you’re left with are a bunch of standard wartime thrills that end-up dragging the pace.

Furthermore, fans of the first game will be disappointed to learn of the diluted horror here in favor of generic Call of Duty-inspired action. Now look, as someone who didn’t find 2033 particularly frightening (and outright disliked its action beats) I actually consider Last Light’s newfound approach to be for the better: not only did it result in the diminishment of gimmicky suspenseful moments, but it also led to a number of finely-crafted missions entailing Artyom duking it out with some foe or foes. Don’t mistake me, there are a few spine-tingling jiffs here-and-there, but if you’re going in expecting a stage akin to the Library from Metro 1, you’ll be sorely disappointed.

Gameplay as a whole is largely the same as its predecessor’s, albeit with two major fixes to the stealth. One, vision cones have been completely tempered, meaning enemies are now capable of actually seeing you if you’re within a light source. And two, compared to Metro 1 where killing vs knocking-out thugs were indistinguishable actions, Last Light adds a noise appraisal differentiation wherein killing has a greater chance of alerting adjacent foes (reportedly, it also contributes to the type of ending you get, though, again, more on that later).

My only real continuing complaint has to do with the human AI whenever they’re alerted: I’m not sure if this was intentional or a case of the game code breaking, but upon getting frenzied, they start to dash about a 4x4 grid as though injected with amphetamines, this heightened state permanently preventing them from returning to a pre-alert manner. Now you may be thinking, well Red, isn’t that more realistic than most conventional games wherein thugs act like a buddy of theirs wasn’t haphazardly offed ala Assassin’s Creed? Sure, but the problem is they don’t switch to a search-and-destroy mode either: it’s literally as though their pathfinding has collapsed, preventing them from roving away and you from being able to outmaneuver them amidst the fever. Compare this to Arkham Asylum, a game that came out four years prior, wherein goons swapped-up patterns the moment they realized Batman was after them, and you’ll see what I mean.

Interestingly, despite, as I said before, Last Light tossing out most of its horror atmosphere, it does semi-double down on its survivor aspects: on the one hand, masks and filters can only be scavenged from the world; weapons need to be upgraded for tougher enemies, and vendors are much more expensive. On the other hand, though, finding new guns and ammunition (at least on Survival - Hardcore mode) isn’t an arduous task, and while you could just amp up the difficulty, this has the side effect of making Artyom pathetically-vulnerable to damage, which is not something you’ll want to deal with in light of the boss fights….

Yes, that’s right; in addition to your standard waves of enemies, Artyom will occasionally come across specially-designated foes that pack a greater punch, and though the gunplay is solid, the movement system simply isn’t up-to-par to accommodate these faster beasts: Arty has a short jump, limited sprint, and no strafing of any kind, meaning you’ll probably have to repeat these encounters through no fault of your own.

Besides that, 4A’s ability to craft a HUD-less display remains a superb feat, and, best of all, I really liked the subtle sense of Artyom growing stronger as you get used to the world, its fauna, and the types of situations you’ll encounter.

Graphically, I’m not going to go too in-depth due to 4A reusing their proprietary engine (as well as every asset) from the first game. This is an absolutely gorgeous world baked in Nuclear Winter dread, the titular tunnels a conglomerate of musty contraptions as protective as they are claustrophobic. While humans have successfully staved-off extinction, the presence of viridescent water, run-down interiors, and eerie volumetric fog indicate the fight for survival is far from over.

In my review of the first game, I noted the developers didn’t do much to spruce-up the surface beyond your usual post-apocalyptic candor. Well, this time around, the outside is a LOT more versatile courtesy of them indulging in extensive flora decor, scripted weather sequences, as well as good old-fashioned grey-scale. Whereas in 2033, you were primarily stuck with urbicidal cityscapes plucked out of your standard dystopian templates, Last Light opts to show the ecological-side of things, and it truly is admirable witnessing Mother Nature try and reclaim what man took from her: elements pelt everything indiscriminately, plants concurrently look dead-and-alive, and buildings are semi-biotic specimens seemingly wrought out of the ground. Combined with the player spending less time there compared to 2033, and you can bet the virtuosity continues to be persistently fresh with each “resurfacing,” the visuals on par with the best of fictional post-nuclear wastelands.

Even the more faulty aspects tend to have some counterpunch which partially alleviates them. For example, monsters occasionally glitch out and teleport, but at least their death animations are more organic compared to the jerky switcheroos of 2033; fire sprites appear 6th generation-ish, but man does their autumnal blaze light up the subway interiors; bricks are improperly texture-streamed, yet every other veneer is excellent; the top halves of faces manifest as paralyzed, but their bottom halves stand as crisply-synchronized.

For me, the only inexcusable defects were threefold: one, hair modeling is noticeably-unfinished compared to the gorgeous textile and skin work (you’ll be glad the majority of characters wear a buzz cut/hat); two, cutscenes hold a stutter to them (at least on PC), and three (and most importantly) the amount of overly-dim areas. I understand the Metro is underground, but there were times where I literally had to turn-up the brightness just to see my way around, and while you are given a flashlight and lighter, such tools are impractical during stealth portions where the player (obviously) needs to stay hidden. Night vision goggles do technically exist, but unlike the first game where you get them as part of the story, here they’re only obtainable during a certain section, meaning if you missed out on them (like I did), you’re SOL.

The sound trifecta, unfortunately, is worse-off, beginning with the voice acting, which is truly hit-or-miss. On the one hand, all the major NPCs sound quite good, with Khan (JB Blanc), Pavel (Mark Ivanir), Anna (Anna Graves), and Moskvin’s (Dimitri Diatchenko [RIP]) VAs, in particular, giving solid performances (their acting, in turn, proving the stupidity of Craig Mazin’s theory that actors who use a foreign accent are incapable of focusing on their craft adequately). On the other hand, though, nearly all the NPCs (as well as Artyom himself) can be cringy to listen to as they clearly spout-off lines half-heartedly (children being the WORST, a problem you’ll learn is particularly grating in Last Light for reasons I’ll leave vague).

Much like Portal’s OST, the score by Alexei Omelchuk is one of those compositions that’s terrific to hear in-game, yet loses its fervor when placed outside that box. It’s built around two concepts: level ambience and in-game events, both of which are heavily-reliant on the specific layouts, actions, and scripted proceedings you experience in game. Don’t get me wrong, Omelchuk is a maestro when it comes to accentuating such atmospheres, it’s just nothing in particular stands out when all is said-and-done.

Finally, the SFX has its pros-and-cons. Regarding the former, you’ve got a variety of impact noises contingent on the item material you’re shooting at or knifing (metal, glass, stone, flesh, even bone!) in addition to this being the first game I’ve ever played to have realistic “squishy” noises for mud stepping. Enemy sonority has been kicked up a notch significantly, and I always found myself tensing whenever I’d discern the howl of a Watchman or the flapping of a Demon’s wings! Lastly, I absolutely adored any reloading din (especially the Duplet’s!).

On the negative side, though, echoes are surprisingly diminished in spite of your subterranean surroundings, and, more importantly, the game is really weird about sound cues. There are three you’ll recurringly hear, and I genuinely never understood what they were programmed for: a set of piano keys, the blaring of a horn, and something that can only be described as a high-pitched version of the Head of St. Denis from AC Unity. Presumably these are tied to your level of awareness/exposure, but there were so many times in the game where I wasn’t seen yet got hit with one of them (or vice-versa, was seen and heard nothing). If it were a one-off, it’d be fine, but because this inconstancy persists, you’re going to have to deal with it from beginning-to-end.

Unlike its predecessor, Last Light came out with a lot of post-launch content, and having (mostly) played them all, here are my thoughts. First-up is the Faction Pack, consisting of three missions adjacent to Artyom’s journey, starting with Heavy Squad, a glorified reskin of the base game’s last chapter wherein you control a Nazi soldier (yay!) defending his base against an onslaught of Soviets. It’s okay, but fails to provide any unique set pieces minus spamming the area with snipers.

Next is Kshatriya, a roguelite mode wherein you’re tasked with making periodic trips to the surface in order to find rare artifacts for this collector, doing so granting you in-game currency (military grade ammo) that you can then use to procure better weapons and/or replenish supplies. All cards on the table guys, I didn’t have the patience to see this DLC to its completion, but from what I did play, there were one too many enemies thrown your way in contrast to the limited supplies on hand, in addition to filters going up in cost each time you purchased one. On top of this, you’re forced to buy a special suit for extensive surface traversal, this design choice coming across as pointless padding rather than a legitimate endeavor. That said, Kshatriya does add the ability to loot mutants, so there are counterbalances in place should you wish to try it.

Third is Sniper Team, a stealth-based excursion starring a Russian infiltrating a compound. Despite the eponymous weapon not having any use past the initial stage, the mission, as a whole, is actually quite fun: its biggest qualm being how unnaturally short it is. See, I feel like more was originally intended as Sniper Team (per the title) features a subplot entailing your partner going on a secret assignment, only for the story to cut to credits the second you both finally meet-up at the end in Nazi disguises: what he was up to you never find out.

Tower Pack was the second expansion, its focus being an arcade-style mode involving you brawling toe-to-toe against waves of enemies. If this sounds like Survival from Modern Warfare 3, you’d be correct, and while CoD has superb shooting that fits such a schematic, Metro’s, au contraire, does not work as well. Like Kshatriya, I didn’t finish this one, but inadequate gameplay combined with a Ready Player One VR set-up may not find much legion even amongst hardcore fans.

In some ways, the penultimate Developer Pack is more of the same, incorporating an MW2-esque museum in which you can admire the vanilla game’s assets, a combat arena to sic two foes against one another, and a shooting rink for standard gunplay challenges. Luckily, though, the Developer Pack stands apart via a handwoven single-player mission called Spider Lair wherein your nameless character finds himself trapped underground amidst a plethora of mutated arachnids. Perhaps done in response to Last Light’s action-reorientation, Spider Lair adopts a survivor horror framework heavily-inspired by the Alien movies in which you’re armed with a flamethrower against overpowered bugs seeking to devour you. With a tense atmosphere and insistence on strategy over combat (supplies and ammo have to be continuously-scrounged), Spider Lair is a definite sign of 2A’s continuous ability to craft memorable thrills. My sole complaints were it was sometimes hard to discern what needed to be done in order to advance, as well as the finale being annoyingly bleak(+++).

Chronicles was the concluding release, boasting a trifecta of missions framed around Pavel, Khan, and Anna, and sadly the quality wavers amongst the three. The worst, by far, is Anna’s, hers being a swift sidequel to one of the mainline missions in Last Light. In the middle is Pavel’s, his objectives emphasizing standard stealth gameplay in a hypogean bunker. Sadly, just like with Sniper Team, it comes across as unnaturally short, namely due to the finale allowing you to purchase new weapons & ammo, only to abruptly cut-to-black as the man enters a boat.

Thankfully, Khan’s is great , if for no other reason than that it showcases why a voiced protagonist would’ve made for a far better game. You star as Uhlman, one of the side characters from 2033, who meets-up with the mystic during a sabotage mission in the subway. As you can imagine, strange visions quickly befall the guy, their presence simultaneously driving the action and providing you insight into Khan’s mysterious background. With decent visuals and some fantastic interplay between its leads, you have an example of what Artyom could’ve been had 4A granted him a voice.

To close out this review, It’s high-time we spoke on the ending. As I’ve been hinting at throughout, Last Light replicates 2033’s binary formula via providing its own dual cappers, and while it is a fundamentally-pointless excursion due to the lack of in-game effects or carryover drama, I know the prospect will entice some gamers regardless.

Unfortunately, you’ll be hardpressed to know exactly what actions generate what results as not only is it left unclear in the game, but 2A themselves (to my knowledge) have never released an official guide clarifying things. Perusing numerous online resources yielded mixed results with few consistencies: some said looting corpses and killing over knocking-out pushed you towards the “bad” one; others stated the truth derived purely from your interactions with the cityfolk; and still more claimed karma was restricted to major choices made explicit during your journey (this makes the most sense, but also angers me tremendously++++).

As such, because there’s no clear-cut route for what needs to be done, you’re better off just playing the game how you want to play it and looking up the alternate conclusion (if you so desire). Like I mentioned earlier, nothing carries over to Exodus anyway, and, regardless, the bad ending is fine as far as providing a sufficient coda.

Overall, I remain mixed on Last Light. It improves a few things, downgrades others, and ultimately stumbles as a fruitful endeavor. I respect the strong fanbase this series has cultivated; however, having beaten two entries now, I feel it may not be for me.


NOTES

-Occasionally ran into some sound editing bugs in terms of volumic-variance from NPCs, though I’m willing to attribute this to my speaker set-up.

-One cool addition is the ability to use Military Grade Bullets as super-incendiary shells, providing you supplemental magazines at the cost of money. On the difficulty I played, I never had to use this, though I can imagine the prospect being necessary on higher challenges.

-I liked the main menu being a control panel for this steampunk vehicle.

-Artyom has a surprisingly-diverse arsenal of knife takedown animations.

-A couple of sections feature unique dialogue between guardsmen whenever they suspect your presence. Yeah, most posts just devolve to them calling you a b!tch (guessing it’s a common slur in Russia), but it was still cool to hear these naturale convos nonetheless.

-Glukhovsky’s books can ironically be found throughout the world.





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SPOILERS
+In the very beginning of the first title, they directly attack Artyom’s comrades and kill them. Here, though, they’ve been rendered into peace loving hippies who were just being misunderstood by the humans they assaulted. It’s really lame, and while the connection to Artyom is kind of interesting, it doesn’t change the fact that this feels like a forced retcon.

++Explaining his purpose to the stragglers in the railways over them magically not shooting him, and stopping Colonel Miller from threatening the Dark Child are two scenes that standout in particular.

+++You emerge from the depths only to get immediately killed by some beast.

++++There are instances where this would warrant you sparing two individuals (Lestnisky and Pavel); individuals who have conducted war crimes and will not face any kind of justice. Let me repeat -- to be bestowed with positive karma, the writers want you to let two war criminals (who tried to kill you no less!), go off scot-free. Yeah, you don’t need me to explain why this enrages me.

-This game features one of the most laughably bad sex scene lead-ins I’ve ever seen in a video game since Fahrenheit. Putting this in the spoiler section because it’s obvious who it involves (hint hint, the ONLY female NPC).
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I’m sorry, I thought I could write a review without spoilers, but quickly found that to be an impossible task. That said, the story is so godawful (pun intended) you aren’t missing out on much learning about the presence of certain characters/events beforehand

NOTE - though a direct sequel to God of War 1, this game references events that occurred in Ghost of Sparta, and while not necessary to play it, you may end-up confused by one scene

Played as part of the God of War Collection for PS3


Every now and then, you’ll come across a work of fiction that really annoys you: whether it’s a video game, movie, or TV series, I guarantee you’ll find a project that's so vexing, you’ll want to nitpick every bone in its body till it’s laden on the ground in a puddle of splinters: deadly to the touch to anyone who would dare follow-up your diatribe.

Yes, God of War 2 provoked that kind of response in me. While I had enjoyed the first one quite a bit, it’s clear Santa Monica took the wrong lessons from its success: the end product here doubling-down on all its worst aspects, the worst being the story. In the first game, Kratos was, without a doubt, one of the most unlikeable a$$holes ever conceived in gaming: a sociopathic, screaming dipsh!t who was so unpleasant, I genuinely didn’t know if I was meant to be rooting for or against him. Still, there was an element of Greek Tragedy to his arc, and the idea of someone successfully subverting the oppression of the gods had a tinge of deconstructionism to it.

Unfortunately, you don’t get any such nuances here. God of War II had the perfect opportunity to tell a cogent tale about the wrongdoings of the Greek Pantheon, yet opts to forgo that in favor of a highly-generic revenge story made all the rottener by its protagonist being a reprehensible piece of sh!t. The premise is Zeus has betrayed Kratos out of fears the man will usurp him on Olympus, castigating him to the depths of the Underworld whilst taking away his divinity in the process.

Right off the bat, this synopsis reeks of plotholes, its conception indicating not a single second was spent on basic script oversight. For starters, why does Zeus suddenly feel this way? And if he was so scared of Kratos’s potential, why let Athena turn him into Ares's replacement in the first place? Worse yet, Kratos’s whole plea at the end of GoW1 was to die so his nightmares could end, so why not just approach the man and offer him the relief he desires?

But no, to answer these questions would require, you know, effort, something the team at Santa Monica evidently wouldn't learn until 2018.

Oh we’re not done yet - heeding the words of the Titan Gaia, Kratos climbs out of the Underworld to begin his journey towards vengeance….only, hold-up, how in the world did he accomplish this? We just saw Zeus take away his godhood, yet you’re telling me he’s still capable of clawing his way out of a (literal) hellish pit like it's a casual Sunday? This is a problem you’ll see constantly plagues the game: the notion that Kratos is capable of accomplishing inhuman feats despite being rendered a mere mortal by Zeus. During your odyssey, you’ll consistently come across a situation or monster that should have the upperhand on the deposed god, yet falter for reasons that can only be described as @sspulls.

Now I know there’ll be two counterarguments to this, the first that Kratos is granted blessings by the Titans akin to the ones he received from the Olympians (the same ones that allowed him to beat Ares), and that’d be a valid point were it not for a couple of setbacks: one, Kratos does a fair amount of crazy stuff before he even gets his first power; and two, some of the bosses he faces should be insurmountable even with such gifts. During the fight with the Sisters of Fate, for example, they repeatedly state how they can easily sabotage his past, so WHY THE F#CK DON’T THEY (one of them literally spends the game bitch-slapping Kratos like a silly nanny instead of using her “vast” power)? Another moment sees Kratos reencounter the barbarian nemesis who bested him before (and who claims to have gotten much stronger since), so why is this brute casually riding around on his horse instead of fighting mano y mano? Don’t even get me started on the final scrum with Zeus, nor the game’s comical (plot hole-ridden) take on time travel. Seriously, the amount of nonsense you have to put up with to justify Kratos’s “badassery” here is beyond laughable at times.

The second argument pertains to a twist reveal at the end, and no, it doesn’t resolve anything either (+).

Of course, overpowered protagonists aren’t inherently bad - we’ve all played titles that indulged in the power fantasy, and God of War certainly gained fame for popularizing that motif for western audiences. However, the MC needs to be somewhat affable; have a trait that makes them worth investing in for the long haul, and not only does Kratos not have that, the writers literally went out of their way to make him insufferable. There are several instances where he’ll just kill an innocent person without remorse, or do some heinous action(++), and what’s amusing is how it’s all played straight. Like, if the game had at least adopted a darkly humorous tone towards its violence ala Quentin Tarantino I could maybe see myself enjoying the man’s antics, but no, everything’s treated like Oedipus Rex and rendered worse as a result.

I think what makes GoW2 particularly irksome is there was so much potential here for a better tale. The idea of a human witnessing the horrors of the gods and choosing to do something about it could’ve been the source for an invigorating yarn. One scene early-on, for instance, has you meeting Prometheus (the Titan who gave mankind fire), and beholding the excruciating fate Zeus deemed fit for him was tough to stomach (no pun intended): imagine a game where such incidents formed the backbone for Kratos’s motivation over the stupid sh%t he brought upon himself (that’s right, never forget, Kratos is responsible for his own nightmares). But no, you don’t get that, the writers instead preferring to concoct ridiculously idiotic scenarios that genuinely feel like someone had a bone to pick with Greek Mythology.

No seriously, what’s up with sheer venom on-display towards the Greek World? Such lore has been home to some of the most powerful myths in human history, yet the lion’s share of them here have been stripped of their bearings in a pathetic attempt to provide Kratos with fodder to chew on: classical heroes like Theseus and Perseus are rendered lame boss fights (more on that later), the Phoenix needlessly tortured, and Typhon literally turned into a worse version of Temari from Naruto. When you put even a modicum of thought into things, the macro events underscoring every beat become thoroughly unpleasant.

And that’s really the perfect word to describe God of War II’s narrative as a whole - unpleasant. I didn’t feel like an antihero on a semi-justifiable excursion, but a complete jack@ss acting out like a toddler on steroids. While I’ll never judge anyone for liking something I don’t, Kratos’s rise to popularity does say a lot about the kind of pop culture we’ve cultivated in western society.

But look, it’s the gameplay everyone will care most about, and on that front God of War II is still a step down from its predecessor. One of the things I enjoyed most about the first game was its incorporation of puzzles - yes, a few were outright frustrating (the collapsing floor comes to mind), but overall they were nice and helped break-up the pace of the game.

Well, in designing the ones here, the artisans at Santa Monica evidently thought it better to indulge in pure annoyance -- do you guys remember that scene in GoW1 where you had to kick that stupid box across the ship deck? Well, not only does God of War II have its own version of it, but they somehow managed to make it worse via spamming the field with fire and enemies who can counter you. Another moment saw me wasting a good 10 minutes trying to deduce how to redirect light to this flame-spewing effigy, only for the solution to be to climb up a specific section of the wall to free loose sunbeams from the roof (and no, there was barely any visual distinction between the ascendable & unascendable sections of said wall, with the final icicle being hidden in a lanky corner).

I’m not saying everything is bad (there was a time puzzle later on that I kind of enjoyed), but when the quality, as a whole, is at a diminished value, it makes these moments aggravating to partake in.

Luckily, the combat remains as fun as ever, with Santa Monica programming so many new combinations, you can literally button mash to your heart’s content and STILL come away with a fresh move each time. God of War popularized the modern hack-and-slash template back in the day, and I’m proud to say it more than holds up here amidst its countless inspirees.

That said, no improvements were made to the base formula, with Santa Monica, in many cases, outright doubling-down on its prequel’s worst elements: magic attacks remain sharp bursts inorganically woven into the mainframe, executions are the same rehashed finishers you saw aplenty in 1, heavy enemies still boast vexing stunlocks, and, worse of all, quicktime events galore have been shoved into every major encounter. I genuinely don’t understand who thought these minigames would be a good idea as they are incredibly infuriating - you often only have a second to hit their respective prompt, and failing to do so will result in heavy damage (or, in the case of the final fight with Zeus, death). While nowhere near as intrusive as Fahrenheit’s, they definitely took away from any on-screen action, and I guarantee they’ll be the cause of your demise every now-and-then (ESPECIALLY during that Zeus brawl).

Speaking of Zeus, bosses make a return and they’re as mediocre as I hinted at above. True, the first game’s weren’t the greatest thing ever, but they still had a sense of grandeur and logic to their composition. GoW 2’s, au contraire, are tedious and boring, their tactics largely coming down to avoiding a stunlock-inducing attack as you wear down the enemy health bar in order to trigger a, you guessed, QTE! Out of all the clashes, the only ones I truly ended-up enjoying were Lakhesis and Atropos during the third act.

Minibosses, to their credit, fare much better, but one thing I disliked in II was whenever the game would introduce a brand new version, have you slay it, only to then immediately follow-up said encounter with the SAME boss x2 or 3 or 10(!). It begged the question of why they even designed a unique wrangle if they were just going to subvert it with a repetitive montage the second it was complete.

Lastly in the gameplay department, II brings over the upgrade system from afore at the expense of my favorite weapon the Blade of Artemis, replacing it with two slow-swinging clubs you're better off ignoring in favor of the default chains. Ditto with the magic -- sure, you're given a fair amount of spells to play with, but you're better off saving your orbs for the lighting-based Chronos Rage.

For all my harping, the one area God of War II has unilaterally improved upon its forebearer in is the graphics. Once again, I played the PS3 remaster, and once again I was blown away by the sheer crispness of the visuals: you got non-blocky 3D models, top-notch anti-aliasing, reflective surfaces that actually bend light, and some of the best artistry I’ve ever witnessed in gaming. When Santa Monica began development, I have a feeling they really wanted to take players to places they had never dreamed about before, and on that front they more than succeeded: from the fiery heat of the Great Chasm’s interiors to a sprawling flesh-composed dungeon to the streams of blue thread that adorn the Loom Chamber, this is a diverse and thoroughly-awesome treat for your eyes. Even places commonly-used in video games like marshlands and lavapits are often transfused here with some additional element that bears them apart from the crowd, such as blood red swamp water and spiderweb meshing respectively. And for all my harping about the story, the artists clearly did their research on Greek architecture, resulting in those gorgeous columns, bricks, and painted murals commonly-associated with said culture (every temple is a stunning masterwork).

Unlike GoW1, where the developers were unable to boost the cutscene files, here Santa Monica must’ve found the corresponding folder cause these babies look consistent with the base game, their resolution easily rivaling early-7th gen prospects whilst providing expansive grand spectacle….in some cases too grand. See, like I said in my review of the first game, the God of War series was always used by Sony to push the boundaries of their console, and while they certainly achieved this task, a lot of the cinematics you’ll witness on-hand can’t help coming across as self-indulgent to a fault: each scene seemingly showcasing a new physics-rendering capability of the Kinetica. You’ve got the naturalistic flow of liquids, collapsing of buildings, movement of the Titans, surging of velocious air -- one of the best feats I ever saw entails you witnessing the actual regrowth of Prometheus’s innards as he heals overnight. And yet, such pageantry can’t help coming across like someone at Santa Monica did this purely out of an initiative to pat themselves on the back.

Other miscellaneous graphical bits I liked included the Chains of Athena changing color as you upgraded them (more on that later), the lightsaber-hued orbs found in chests, and the incredibly-fast loading times.

The only derogatory hit on the whole system has to do with any depictions of penetration. The PS2 simply was not capable of accurately generating this for weapons, and given that many of Kratos’s executions rely on it, you’re going to be noticing a lot of haphazard merging that walks the line between clipping and blended simulacra.

Sound is where the game dips the most in stature, starting with the music - it is bombastic to a fault. Once again the work was outsourced to a bunch of composers, yet unlike before where they managed to create something unified and cohesive, here it’s just loud for loudness sake. 90 percent of the tracks employ horns and vocals to mimic that stereotypical brashness typically associated with Greek Hymns, but the boisterous volume combined with the repetitive melodies ends-up making it all unnecessarily overbearing. This is the only time I’ve had to constantly pause an OST while listening to it, and that speaks to the score’s inherent obnoxiousness.

Voice acting continues that trend, with TC Carson giving a headache-inducing performance as the titular character. Yeah, as if I needed to tell you guys, God of War II emphasizes Kratos’s angrier-side, meaning you get A LOT more b!tching yelling from the ousted deity than before, and it is painful to listen to. It truly is a shame because Carson is a talented actor: there’s a part in the back-half that lasts all of 10 seconds, but which showcases the kind of dramatic delivery the man is capable of doing, yet the simple fact is he’s just not granted many chances to do so. To pour salt in the wounds, the devs rehashed some of his dumber grunts instead of re-recording them, meaning you’ll be hearing a lot of mooing while moving stuff.

Despite his limited screen-time, Zeus is somehow worse, and just like with Ares, you’ll be shocked to learn his voice actor is a noted thespian in the form of Corey Burton. Fans of DC-based works know Burton’s given plenty of wonderful performances elsewhere, yet here comes across like a senior resident whose cords have been clogged from smoking too much weed.

The others are fine, serving their roles well-enough, but the overarching quality does feel like a step down from 1 where it truly came across like a cast of Royal Shakespeareans doing their best job according credence to the project.

SFX has its good-and-bad: slicing enemies never gets tiring, and I appreciated the spark-chinking that resounded whenever you hit boulders and walls, but none of the non-singing monsters were memorable, and there were times where the developers outright faltered in terms of synchronizing appropriate noises. For example, one scene has you walking along a giant chain that sways like a fiber rope; another has you facing dog-like beasts that bark like a regular ole hound. Overall it’s sufficient, but could’ve been more.

Unfortunately, that sentiment isn’t applicable to the entire game as I did not enjoy it. It’s a technical marvel done at the expense of the most important tenets of a video game, and while it did a lot for the industry and PS2’s legacy, it’s best left forgotten.


NOTES
+Kratos is revealed at the end to be Zeus’s son and, consequently, a demigod. This is no doubt an instance of the writers ripping-off paying homage to other popular figures like Herakles, but the problem is they clearly didn’t do their research as even those individuals with divine heritage were severely handicapped compared to their Olympian parent.

++Using the Argonaut to stop the cog, torturing/murdering the Priests, tearing off Icarus’s wings (honestly, can we just take a second to observe how stupid it was to turn Icarus of all people into a boss fight? This is a guy whose wings were famously burned to a crisp and died, yet here he’s somehow alive and actually able to hold his own against Kratos? There are so many discourses throughout the game which indicate the writers studied past Greek myths, so why they outright sabotaged them with worse retellings is beyond me).

-There is a challenge mode for you completionists out there.

-No subtitles (again), but at least they sped-up the orb procession.

-Thank the lord they moved the door opening button to O instead of the right bumper! It alleviated my fingers tremendously.

-There’s an awful sex minigame early-on that’s both narratively-intrusive and built on QTEs (worst part is you don’t even get to see any of the action).

-Hated how slow Kratos became whenever he carried bodies. I get this was done to make some of the boss fights artificially-hard, but the man is literally capable of moving giant cinder blocks yet somehow gets encumbered by a mere corpse?

-There’s a track from the OST that literally sounds like a Diet Coke version of the famous trailer song Preliator by Globus.

Because of the nature of the story, it’s impossible to discuss Spec Ops: The Line without spoiling its contents. Having said that, I do think this is one of those titles every gamer will play at some point in their lives, so let this review stand as less of an overview and more of a discussion regarding its merits.

Minor spoilers discussed for the original Modern Warfare Trilogy as well as Black Ops


Spec Ops: The Line is one of those games I both admire and unadmire -- it takes a thought-provoking approach to military shooters, only to subvert them in the most erroneous way possible, and while I would’ve loved to have seen more titles like it, I ultimately can’t recommend the game itself as a must-play venture.

It should be noted in advance that the story we got was not what was fully intended by the writers: in an article published on Cracked.com back in 2016, Spec Ops co-writer Walt Williams disclosed multiple changes the narrative underwent during development (be forewarned spoilers are present), and so I am definitely sympathetic to the fact that the story would’ve been more consistent had things gone as originally planned(+). That said, because of the high reputation Spec Ops continues to hold among the gaming community, consequent criticisms will be unadulterated regardless of this piece of prescient knowledge.

The problems stem from multiple sources, but I suppose the premise is as good a place to start as any: a semi-apocalyptic timeline wherein Dubai is ravaged by horrendous sandstorms (err, more than your garden variety anyway). Prior to the events of the game, a battalion of US soldiers nicknamed the Damned 33rd opted to disobey orders and evacuate the city, resulting in a loss of contact with their overseers. Months later, a lone transmission broadcast by the infantry’s Colonel Konrad causes the US Government to send in a small Delta Squadron to conduct reconnaissance and find out what exactly transpired.

It may sound solid to an outsider, but Americans holding a basic understanding of their military will know just how nonsensical everything is upon closer inspection. For starters, on what planet would a US satellite be unable to see through dusty wind? We’ve had this technology nailed to a tee going back to the 60s, let alone the 2010s timeline of Spec Ops, yet you mean to tell me no such spacecraft was capable of keeping track of Konrad’s movements?

The idea of HAVING to send in personnel becomes further idiotic the second you find out the CIA had previously infiltrated Dubai, meaning the government already had a source of information on the ground! Are you honestly going to tell me with a straightface that the DOD and CIA were not communicating with one another in any capacity (the same two agencies that, mind you, worked hand-in-hand during the Cold and Iraq Wars?).

And let’s talk about Konrad - even if I bought into the idea of him disobeying orders, in what world are the thousands, let me repeat, thousands of soldiers under his command going to go along with a mutiny (let alone the innumerable Captains and Lieutenants)? This was clearly a homage to Apocalypse Now, which served as a major influence on the plot, but the difference is, there, Kurtz oversaw significantly less troops, making their switch in allegiance all the more believable. Here, though, there’s no reality where a mass of armyheads would betray their country because a single higher-up said so.

The final stretch of incredulity extends to the actions done by main protagonist himself, Captain Walker, and while significantly less heavy than their aforementioned forebears, they end up being arguably the worst of the bunch given their purpose in jumpstarting the plot: that is Walker’s decisions to ignore orders. Unlike Konrad’s men, Walker is, at the very least, explicitly portrayed as a by-the-book veteran, so why is he not following such basic protocol as reporting in attacks by members of the Dubai populace? Long before he snaps, why is he not doing the very thing he was explicitly asked to do ala sending in information about the status of Dubai (it’s not like he forgets this mission since his squadmates are constantly reminding him every other scene)?

I know fans will retort that every military game takes creative liberties for the sake of storytelling, a notion I agree with, yet Spec Ops’ errors struck me as a bit hypocritical given its themes of deconstructing such titles over their lack of realism. Plus, unlike Call of Duty, a couple of easy rewrites would’ve gone a long way towards ameliorating, if not outright correcting, these issues (++).

But look, we’re just dancing at the outskirts -- Spec Ops biggest issues are two-fold: one, its inability to craft morally-grey situations; and two, its aggravating attempts at critiquing player agency.

Regarding the first, Spec Ops’s storyline operates under the banner of “the road to hell is paved with good intentions,” a fascinating concept that’s been privy to some of the best storytelling in fictional media. However, the problem with Spec Ops’s version is that it’s more interested in manipulating gamers than actually weaving a good tale - almost every “ambivalent” scenario Walker and his buddies come across is deliberately obscured for the sake of a gotcha moment (a tactic that feels less like organic development and more like shock value). Real ethical murkiness seeps from having a decent understanding of the facts and consequently making a Scylla & Charybdis decision: that is knowing things could go north or south, but ultimately concluding that the outcome of one justifies its selection over the other.

Sadly, only once does the game do anything akin to this, with the rest of the story otherwise consisting of Walker being tricked into committing acts of Genevic violence, and what makes this particularly annoying is that you’re almost always responding out of self-defense. The Damned 33rd constantly ignore Walker’s words and shoot on-sight, in turn forcing players to engage in extended firefights that give way to those aforestated war crimes, and as a result, I never once felt guilt-tripped by Walker’s deeds because I knew things would’ve played out differently had the issues been forthright over this force-feeding method. Yes, in wartime, you’re never acquainted with all the facts, but as I more than illustrated above, the game wasn’t exactly heavy on veritable recreations from the get-go.

Interestingly, the infamous White Phosphorus scene exhibits this flounder best, with Walker gulled (read - coaxed) into using the eponymous incendiary against an opposing unit, unaware that there are civilians in the mix. Despite the intentions of the writers, it just didn’t work for me because there was never any indication that citizens were moved to this area, nor a single reason why this particular weapon had to be employed when previous scenarios had you gunning down similar numbers of troops amass no problem. Ironically, what I found far more haunting (and what I wish had been focused on instead) were the sundry of burning troops you meander past following the ordeal: hearing their screams and singeing, it genuinely dawned on me just how sickening my actions were, something I can’t say occurred with the so-called “plot twist”.

Another notorious part involves Walker being deceived (noticing a trend here?) into helping a CIA crony sabotage the Dubai water supply; a scene that only prevails because the game deliberately turns Walker into a moron (+++) in addition to conveniently killing off every exposition-y character who would’ve told him the truth about the agent (whose motivations, on their own merits, are full of horsefeathers++++). Contrived is the perfect word to describe this part because that’s the kind of framing the game unfortunately utilizes in order to render its many tragedies a success. Compare this to Assassin’s Creed I or Witcher 2 where Geralt and Altair were put into decently-detailed scenarios in which you were able to make a concerted decision: a decision that may have caused more damage than good, but never once seemed coerced.

Still, in spite of my disagreements, I actually would’ve commended Spec Os had it not indulged in that aforementioned secondary quandary of emotionally-blackmailing players as though they did something wrong. It does this through its death screens (no doubt a parody of the CoD equivalent) which, if you’re lucky, you won’t be seeing too many of courtesy of how infuriatingly condescending they can get. You get such pretentious polemics as: “This is all your Fault,” “Do you feel like a Hero?,” and an additional one about the parching of Dubai’s citizens that I didn’t jot down verbatim (amongst others+++++), all of which struck me as wholly unnecessary because it’s not like the game provided a pacifist route or legitimate choices for players to willfully exert agency on.

Now of course, being a beloved game, I’ve heard counterarguments to some of these qualms, namely that Spec Ops is a deliberate response to Call of Duty’s cartoonish approach to war, a claim that makes no sense to anyone who's actually played those games. Like seriously, from Black Ops II on-back (i.e., the titles that were out at the time of Spec Ops’s release), can anyone actually think of a moment where actions against civilian targets weren’t treated seriously? The chemical gas attacks in MW3, the death of Noriega’s sister in BOII, the nuclear explosion in MW1, Castro’s assassination attempt in BO1, etc…all led to serious consequences for the protagonist(s). Even No Russian (a mission which, by the way, provided far more player agency than any chapter in Spec Ops ever did) literally resulted in the advent of World War III, so I genuinely don’t know what commentary the devs were going for if this was actually their intention.

Another big rebuttal I’ve heard is that Spec Ops was meant to be critical of gamers who decide to play war titles without thinking about what they’re doing, a facet that, if true, would genuinely trigger me. Nothing pisses me off more than when a video game’s grand or ulterior message is to not play it -- the purpose of any published title, irrespective of its tangents, should always be to be experienced. Telling players that they were dumb to embark on a journey advertised to them would be deceptive, sly, and downright egotistical on the part of the writers.

Perusing the Wikipedia article will inform you that the writers wanted to showcase a realistic decline in the mental state of soldiers at war, something that is generally overlooked in conventional military shooters. Now, I’ve never served in the armed forces (and I suspect neither have Williams and Richard Pearsey); however, I’ve read enough books and spoken to enough veterans to feel confident in saying that this psychological change is not as instantaneous as the hackneyed approach Yager Development took here, condensing a months-long process of deterioration and dehumanization into what feels like the span of a few days. Walker’s transformation, in particular, is preposterous because it entails him immediately developing a split personality, something that literally doesn’t happen overnight. To add salt to the wounds, the game rips-off Black Ops 1 by treating this as a plot twist (though unlike BO1, the dialogue here is overtly-obtuse to the point of not lending an organic layer to said revelation).

Listen, I know I’ve been rambling, but it’s only because I’m passionate about video game storytelling, and I feel Spec Ops could’ve done a better job executing its well-intentioned parameters. It generally tells a good tale about the fall of three men trying to do the right thing, and honestly succeeds in its depiction of PTSD (the spontaneous screaming/acts of violence, Walker’s nightmares): it’s just everything else was severely lacking in either tangibleness or believability. Even as an adaptation of Heart of Darkness it stumbles because you just don’t get a sense of Konrad’s (i.e. Kurtz’s) descent into madness due to the game shoving most of that backstory into optional collectibles (more on that later). There’s also a whole spiel I have about the “true ending” that I’ll detail in the notes section (++++++).

Like I said though, this is a story you will get invested in, and that’s honestly due less to the script and more to the stupendous voice work and chemistry of the main stars. Nolan North, of course, needs no introduction, his performance as Walker arguably standing at the top of an already-esteemed resume. The way he vocally depicts Walker’s crumbling mental state and increasing anger, in particular, deserves immense praise as a gold standard in voiceover work. His coworker, Omid Abtahi, does an equally superb job as thirdmate Lugo, often being handed the most fervently-charged dialogue behind North, and successfully orating it.

Christopher Reid takes the reins as Walker’s second-in-command Adams, and he’s admittedly the weakest of the trio, failing to astutely exude the multitudinous emotions his character undergoes. Still, his camaraderie goes a long way in the game (his conversations with Walker, in particular, being a consistent highlight).

The remaining NPC cast is admittedly hit-or-miss. Jake Busey, for example, is surprisingly good as the shock jock Radioman Delta Squad overhears for most of the game, but he’s unfortunately counterbalanced by Bruce Boxleitner’s Konrad, who not only lacks Brando’s pristine elocution, but dons a nasal impersonation of Kiefer Sutherland from Phone Booth (he also gave the man a bizarre accent for no apparent reason).

If you’ve heard anything negative about Spec Ops, it’s probably had to do with its shooting mechanics, though I honestly feel the lion’s share of these perceived issues would’ve been ignored with better soundwork: firearms lack impact, bullet blasts resound the same across every non-metallic surface, and you don’t hear enough sand crunching in spite of the abundance of grains. Had things been more visceral, particularly during gun battles, I genuinely think a lot of people would’ve flipped their opinion on the gameplay as it’s honestly fine, occupying your standard cover shooter system of pick-and-pop. There are a few enemy varieties (including juggernauts straight out of MW2), but the battle strategy remains the same, and I guarantee you any deaths you accumulate will derive primarily from running out into open areas.

The biggest supplement to the whole shebang is a Mass Effect-esque command squad wherein, at the click of a button, Lugo & Adams can be directed against a specific target. The AI for the duo is actually quite good, with the two of them not only following orders well, but actually hitting/pursuing their targets to a tee. The only downside is the inability to give them specific directives in terms of what tactics to employ (i.e., whether to lob a grenade, provide suppressing fire, snipe, etc….), leaving their choice-of-attack up to either RNG or the occasional on-screen prompt. When they do go down, you’re able to revive them with a quick tap, though be forewarned this does leave you open to bullet fire.

On that note, Spec Ops is definitely more realistic than its contemporaries in terms of damage calculation as, even on the normal difficulty, Walker can only take a few hits before his screen goes red. And seeing as how you’ll rarely be up against minimal foes, you’ll definitely want to avoid darting into the open kamikaze-style lest you wish to die quickly.

But that’s at least understandable - what isn’t understandable are some of the bizarre gamepad calibrations: the semi-tank control scheme where you have to rotate Walker separately from the camera in order to dictate his direction; running being relegated to a singular button tap; and vaulting being keyed to same button as melee.

I talked about the intelligence collectibles earlier, and those are definitely more akin to the backpacks from Spider-Man than their Call of Duty counterpart in the sense that they’re recordings which divulge vital information on either something that occurred before the events of the game, or on present thoughts from Walker on something at hand. They’re excellently scribed and definitely provide integral lore in a way the main campaign never does, but the problem is you have to go out of your way to locate them. I don’t know who thought this’d be a good idea over placing them directly in the player’s path, and what’s worse is, if you want to view them later, you have to exit the game and select them from the title screen despite certain ones pertaining to the specific chapter they’re found in -- tl;dr, it made no sense.

Graphics are the one area Yager truly went all-out on as Spec Ops has aged incredibly well. Character models, in particular, boast extraordinary detail you’re not liable to finding in a lot of games these days, beginning with the fact that you can actually see streams of sweat on Walker’s face alongside the progressive-accumulation of caked dirt and dried blood. Character diaphragms enlarge in an arc motion when breathing, compared to the balloon-shaped expansion typical of most releases, and texturing, as a whole, is incredibly deep, adorning textiles and architectural materials equanimously. Though primarily in desert-strewn areas, you’ll often duke it out in exteriors reminiscent of the 33rd’s past history (makeshift gyms/army barracks) or interiors mimicked off of real-life locations from the iconic city (the Dubai Mall, Burj Khalifa, various resorts), both of which do a phenomenal job giving a lived-in feel to the world. The use of colors, even under the baked overlay of Spec Ops illumination, were especially fantastic, often giving rise to some of the most gorgeous vistas I’ve ever had the privilege to witness in gaming -- one room could literally be home to dashes of rainbow, another pure blues, and still another murkier lighting reminiscent of the climax of Apocalypse Now.

The desert is more than a backdrop, with grenades causing cloudbursts, breakable glass giving way to sandslides, and the occasional habūb slipping into battle during scripted moments. Part of me wishes these latter storms, in particular, were randomized over predetermined as such moments of granular chaos were absolutely thrilling: red-orange typhoons terrorizing everything in their path.

Still, the highlight of the game has to be its murals - painted canvases embellished upon numerous walls you run across in your 7+ hour journey. The artisans behind them did a phenomenal job satirizing the military-industrial complex, their works frequently contrasting idealistic propaganda with the ongoing carnage of Dubai. Some of my favorites included a burnt American Flag above a pile of dead soldiers, a hot girl vacation ad next to a guy shooting himself, religious divinity amidst massacred civilians, and a diamond adorned with pig blood amongst numerous others I recommend you seek out.

Other miscellaneous graphical bits I enjoyed were the heat waves that rose from discharged turret barrels, visibly seeing empty magazines fall to the ground while reloading, and those darkly gorgeous loading screen illustrations showcasing Walker in varying poses of melancholy.

In terms of visuals criticisms, I had a couple of minor ones ranging from clouds being stationary to Lugo’s hat lacking proper texture streaming, but my biggest ones concerned two aspects from the desert: one, the extensive brightness of sunlit areas - maybe it was because I just got done playing Resident Evil 2, but there were several places where I felt the lighting was overblown; and two, the inconsistency of footprints - not every sand surface yielded them, and even when they did, they often took the form of instantly-formed blobs rather than an organically crafted boot imprint.

Finally there’s the score by Elia Cmíral, and I was pretty disappointed with it. The biggest issue is Cmíral (and Yager in general) were clearly more interested in recreating those rock-based moments from Apocalypse Now than conceiving something standalone, and they apparently settled on doing so via adding such motifs to almost every single album piece. I’m not lying when I tell you guys that the same electric guitar and drum riffs occupy at least 75% of the OST, and if they didn’t, something harmonically-similar did to the point of being aurally-indifferent. There were also numerous times where the music was completely at odds with the thematic content on display, the worst instance of this being the finale with Walker finally meeting Konrad (seriously - go take a listen to it). I’m usually a fan of alternative rock, but unfortunately I can’t say its use in a serious war game was good pickings (oh, and to add salt to the wounds, your ears are privy to a horrifically screechy rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner via the title screen theme).

And that, in a nutshell, wraps-up all my problems with Spec Ops: The Line. As I said in the beginning, I respect what the writers were trying to do, and it would’ve been great if more video games had built on this formula over sticking with standard AAA templates(+++++++), but the game itself tragically has too many flaws to be worth a solid recommend.

I do believe everyone will play it at some point in their gaming life, and for those who have, I encourage commentary/debate because I acknowledge I could very well be ignorant to some major boon that was simply overlooked.

Then again, if a video game can inspire these kinds of discussions to begin with, maybe it already succeeded at its tasks.




NOTES
+To anyone even vaguely-interested in the process behind video game scriptwriting, I highly-recommend checking out that article irrespective of your views on Spec Ops.


++The Damned 33rd had fallen into civil war, so why not have one faction do the counterinsurgency tactics over throwing in the CIA? And rather than make Walker Delta, why not turn him into a Black Ops soldier? You’re already having him act like one anyway.


+++The CIA is explicitly depicted as being untrustworthy to the point of Walker’s teammates warning him otherwise.


++++The US Government already disavowed the Damned 33rd, so what exactly was the CIA trying to cover-up? Any war crimes committed by the unit would’ve been condemned the second they came to light.


+++++The slogan that really got under my skin was one that asked whether I even remembered the original reason for coming to Dubai. The answer is yes homie, you created a campaign no longer than your average CoD one: of course I remember what transpired two days ago.


++++++The writers reportedly claimed that Walker died in the helicopter crash and that the last act of the game is actually him in Limbo. Firstly, this doesn’t make much sense given that a lot of major events, including the deaths of his comrades and the Konrad Revelation, are disclosed post-crash, but second, why would you scribe a video game about maintaining convictions to the bitter end, only to take away that ending from gamers? What was even the point in having multiple choices if they were all “fake” by your own admission?

This is truly a case where Death of the Author should be applied in spades as I think leaving the conclusion up to the player is far more wise - you got three different finales representing the three most possible outcomes: one, Walker acquiescing to his guilt and killing himself; two, Walker acquiescing to his trauma and becoming self-brainwashed; or three, Walker ultimately opting to seek help and Dubai’s citizens privy to rescue by the US Military.


+++++++To be fair, the Modern Warfare reboot and (reportedly) BioShock Infinite did similar takes on American Exceptionalism, so perhaps some post-Spec Ops influence did happen.


-I’d say the one aspect of the graphics that is visibly outdated is surprisingly the choice of font. I don’t know how to describe it, but it genuinely looks like the kind of typeface you’d see on early-360 shooters.


-Spec Ops was delisted from Steam, and no one seems to have any idea as to why that happened.

-The sound mixing has Walker sounding louder than his brethren, which can get obnoxious during firefights when he’s screaming orders. That said, I did like how, if one person was out of your vicinity, their voice would be filtered through the radio (I believe ACIII did the same during the modern-day sections).

-Talk about a blast from the past, one of the NPCs here uses an iPod!

-The intro credits throw in your name as “special guest____” if you needed further proof that the writers were disapproving you as much as they were Walker.