Games

50 Cent: Bulletproof
Vivendi Universal
Platform: PS2, Xbox
Genre: Gangsta Brawler/Adventure

I’m white, half-British, half-Italian. As I write this I’m wearing regular-fit jeans and listening to Lungfish. Perhaps that’s why I don’t get this game. Everyone’s on the whole “extreme authenticity” thing these days, as if to say that I’m damned to play The Getaway: London whilst drinking a warm cuppa for the rest of eternity. If that’s true, then perhaps I’ll never understand what this is all about.

Anyway, here goes. It starts with 50 in his crib (complete with aquarium), getting hit on the head by his old mate, a major crack hustla who he met in juvie, asking for help. 50 runs to his assistance, and starts to uncover a plot that sees him square off against crime syndicates, corrupt cops, and other bad guys (most of whom are white).

50’s constant and irritating voiceover introduces us to his partners in violent-if-always-noble crime: Young Buck (“He’s got mad weapons skills”), Lloyd Banks (“Ain’t no lock can hold him out”) and Tony Yayo. Later on in the plot we get a chance to witness scorching hot street dialogue between Eminem’s Detective McVicar and Dre as the savvy war veteran Grizz. As you play you’re given the luxury of unlocking extras such as 50’s videos and previously unreleased beats.

This raises a couple of questions. Am I enjoying this game for real or for ironic value? Is there even a difference? I certainly can’t tell anymore. Honestly, apart from 12 year olds who are too young to be expected to make value judgements, are we not supposed to laugh in disbelief when told that Young Buck just picked up a bazooka?

Whether you like this sort of thing, or like it in with your tongue so deep in your cheek that it’s about to burst through out of your face, or whether you hate it depends entirely on two things: 1) how old you are, and 2) how honed your sense of irony is. Unfortunately, the game itself won’t make it easy for you to like this turd, ironically or not. The controls are messy, confusing and counterintuitive (anyone heard of a lock-on system?), the animations are stuffy, the team system is complete crap (you’ll have to shoot everyone and then see who answers with a death rattle and who with a “Wha’d I do, 50?” simply to tell them apart), and the level planning is basic and uninspired at most. The special death animations 50 loves to dish out are pretty cool if you’re nine, but if that’s what sells a game, honestly, play God Of War, Resident Evil 4 or Liberty City Stories. Okay?

TIM SMALL



Total Overdose
Atari
Platform: PS2, Xbox
Genre: Violent Wank Fantasy

Okay, so based on the title, you’re probably reminded of the guys on Denmark Street who keep asking you if your name’s “Jason”, but this game’s actually more like getting glassed in the face while watching an illegal dog fight in some scary car park.

At first glance it resembles the Grand Theft Auto series and Max Pain missions but the quirky Mexican criminal underworld puts a unique and fun (brown) skin on things. The ten second rewind feature gives you that extra chance you always seem to need and if you’re anything like me, it’ll save you from screaming abuse at the TV and breaking the controller when you throw it on the floor. It’s moments like this that casual gamers like me give up playing the game forever, telling myself “it’s boring and childish to be playing this shite” when in reality it’s, “I’m not skilful enough for this. My senses have been dulled by drink. If I was really serious about the game being childish then I’d go and do some housework or catch up on writing, but instead I’m going to sit here in front of the TV for another ten hours flipping aimlessley through the 17 music channels I subscribed to on cable. Why do I need 17? I only ever watch one or two of them and then for a maximum of ten minutes at a time.”

Usually I find that games like this end up frustrating me because the controls and game play seem to have been thought out by an octopus and require you to press a bunch of different buttons all at once. I’m sure we have all played games where the only fun thing to do is try to kill yourself in as many different ways as possible but this game is nothing like that. It’s challenging but fair and the characters have a good range of moves which keeps things interesting. I give it two tequila shots short of a dozen.

AMANDIO VICTOR PEREZ



F.E.A.R: First Encounter Assault Recon
Vivendi Universal
Platform: PC
Genre: First Person Shooter

Finally a game that has all the computer nerds of the world pissing and crapping their dacks at the same time. Yes, it’s a first-person shooter horror that is actually good. Lame acronym for a title aside, FEAR puts you in the shoes of the newest member of a paranormal SWAT team and sends you straight into the action when a mysterious gang takes over a chemical factory but makes no demands. Giving new meaning to the term first day jitters, you are soon separated from the team and must fight your way out alone. And that’s just the first mission. Supposedly influenced by The Ring films, FEAR has plenty going for it. It’s ultra-fast-paced, the weapons are cool, the slow-mo bullet time effect is put to good use for once, the story is interesting and it has a fair few frights that will make you pray the turtle’s head disappears back up your arse.

But for a squad-based game there isn’t much squad action. The baddies are a clone army which means you’ll be fighting the same bunch of dudes over and over again. And rather than building an atmosphere of true fear, the game opts for the classic sudden apparition gimmick to get most of its frights. Nevertheless, as first-person shooters go, it looks great, is lots of fun and has the sexiest, creepiest little girl arch villain you will ever encounter. Which gives those nerds a chance for a third kind of fluid emission.

What am I saying? I’m a nerd myself. How can I not be? I review computer games for money.

Here’s the last word on nerds. Anybody who plays computer games is a nerd. And the more the computer game companies try to cover up their nerd factor, the more obvious it becomes. It’s okay, nerds are fine. Reading magazines is nerdy. If you’re comfotable with your inner nerd, and we’ve all got one, then you’re fine. If you try to disguise it then you’re fucked. You turn into an extreme sports, body-pierced, techno metal fan who says things like: “Oh my God, that guy is SUCH A NERD for reading comics Get the fuck out of my way nerd, I’m going to meet Toby at the Head Shop on Oxford Street, then we’re going to the ICA to watch Talvin Singh play and then later take some tokens we got out of Time Out to an authetnic Liberian restaurant. Love those Birkenstock clogs you’ve got on Femke, did you get those at your infamous lost weekend in ‘the Dam? Oh cool! Two Pints Of Lager And A Packet Of Crisps is on!”

The last time the Melvins played London, Buzz told a funny story about Queens Of The Stone Age. I like them, but they’re a band who’re worshipped by people who are unable to accept their inner nerd.

Buzz said: “Some guy at the front of the stage was yelling out: ‘Fuck Queens Of The Stone Age, you’re all fucking nerds’, so the drummer comes out from behind the drumkit, and shouts into the mic: ‘Fuck you man, we’re not nerds!’. He was totally outraged.”

ALBERT CROUPIER