The sour taste in my mouth from BioShock 2 washed away within minutes of booting up BioShock Infinite. Unlike its predecessor, which reeked of cash grab from every pore, Infinite feels like a genuine attempt at artistic expression, while pushing the video game boundaries of storytelling and gameplay. This is the sequel I’ve wanted all along and it’s awesome.
Forget Bioshock 2. The real successor to Bioshock is finally here! Set in a whole new world with new characters, I am ready jump in. Should be picking up my copy today and will likely cover it soon in posts and as a discussion point on The Recurring Bosscast.
I responded to the news of a Bioshock sequel with disgust. The original was such a magical experience for me and one that concluded in a way that made a sequel unnecessary. However, I can’t blame 2K for not wanting to leave money on the table in order to maintain artistic integrity. With that said, I think I would have handled the thought of a sequel if it came from the right place. On paper, Bioshock 2 totally didn’t. Some of its selling points included:
“Return to Rapture!”
“Play as a Big Daddy!”
“Now with multiplayer!”
“…oh yeah, it’s also not made by the original creators, who ended up making the true successor to Bioshock.”
Due to its existence being blatantly rooted in focus groups and business executive boardrooms, I avoided this like the plague. However, with Bioshock Infinite on the way, and a Bioshock-themed episode of The Recurring Bosscast scheduled for the very near future, I figured that playing at least a bit of Bioshock 2 would be worth it for the sake of the show.
In the year 2027, cybernetics are challenging the definition of humanity. On one cybernetmic hand, there are powerful corporations who want nothing more than to profit from the sales of such augmentations. On the other fleshy hand, the idea of humans turning into any form of robot rubs some people the wrong way. You, as the new security director at a biotechnology firm, find yourself embroiled in a war over this, as an initial attack on your company almost takes your life. Now outfitted with augmentations – a necessity after the damage done to your body – your search for answers uncovers a plot far grander than a one-off terrorist strike.
Welcome back to the planet of Pandora, Vault Hunter. If it’s been awhile, things may appear much like how you left them last time. The cell-shaded art direction is seemingly the same. Many of the friends (and enemies) make a return. And of course, your primary motivation to explore this world is to collect increasingly superior loot.
But as you play through Borderlands 2, it’s clear that this isn’t just a new coat of paint. Granted, the added polish on the graphics look great. However, almost every other aspect of the game has seen meaningful upgrades that really refine the original vision.
Sometimes, a product can be lesser than the sum of its parts. Even if a product contains top quality components created by some of the best minds in the business, the way in which those components are implemented will ultimately dictate the difference between a stud and a dud. Off the top of my head, the ultimate example of this phenomenon is the mid-to-late 2000s New York Knicks. Despite spending the largest amount of money on players in the NBA, their team was terrible; all because its players could not mesh into a championship team – or even a competent one.
Judged on its components alone, Syndicate is a stud. Sporting gorgeous art direction, a great soundtrack (with a contribution from Skrillex, if dubstep is your thing), and clever moment-to-moment gameplay that’s been clearly thought out, there’s a distinct level of polish that most games wish they could boast. However, throughout my time playing it, I couldn’t shake my general sense of apathy towards the proceedings.
The original Borderlands ate me alive. I could not stop playing that game until I had done everything their was to do, and it was awesome. For the past 3 years, I’ve been fiending for my next hit. With Borderlands 2, I’ve relapsed hard.
Toting an electric whip, a mean “Sparta” kick, and a potty mouth that would make Howard Stern blush, style is the name of the game in Bulletstorm. Taking heavy cues from Devil May Cry, you’re constantly encouraged, and rewarded for creatively dispatching your foes. In one minute, you could be lassoing enemies towards you, kicking them in the air, and shooting them in slow motion as they fly away. In the next, you could be steering sniper bullets around obstacles to hit enemies in the butt – a 50-point feat that the game aptly calls “Rear Entry”.
Though style is at the forefront of the experience, there’s more to Bulletstorm than its overboard machismo. In fact, it’s this excess swagger that’s gotten everyone in this mess in the first place.
When I first completed the original Portal not too long ago, I did not feel the need to experience any more of it. Sure, Portal is a fantastic game, but within the three or so hours it took me to complete it, I felt like the game had said everything it needed to say. Although I was crazy late to the party and Portal 2 had been out for months, I wasn’t sure what Valve would do to keep the experience going without tarnishing the legacy of the original.
Up until now, I’ve been fairly impressed with the games I’ve picked up at many Blockbuster closing-down sales. Split/Second, Vanquish and Enslaved have all been quality products that I enjoyed greatly. I was hoping that I’d find another surprisingly fun experience Metro 2033. Would this game win me over like the other ones did?
In Third Person 