What's up?

I've reviewed all the Fallout 3 DLC side by side over at The Leisure Lab, which is a bit like reviewing a gorgeous side salad that's been served alongside your crackpipe. It's not really necessary and in some cases incongruous, but it does make an unquittable experience even better.

Apart from Operation Anchorage, of course. That's the brown leaf in the salad, or perhaps the Vim in the crack.

Anyway, Batman, Wolfenstein and Mini Ninjas on their way later, I need to sort my thoughts out, as at present Mini Ninjas seems to be the most engaging of the three!

Follow diversion

I used to follow an excellent blog called Dave's Long Box, and loved every hilarious post, especially his attempts to turn 80s chopper-combat show Airwolf into an adjective. But do you know what I didn't like? I didn't like it when he left the Long Box unattended for lenngthy spells to write for other blogs.

Anyway, I've just written a head 2 head battle between Grand Theft Auto IV and Fallout 3 for Megabits of Gaming. Check it out, it's totally Airwolf!

Fallout falls to Fight Night 4!

Well, it was bound to happen eventually, Fallout 3 has been knocked off the top of my playlist.

What could topple the huge and addictive RPG? Well, partly it’s the arrival of EA’s excellent Fight Night Round 4, but mainly, it’s the presence of a really ill judged piece of DLC.

Now to be fair to Bethesda, they’ve come a long way since cheekily trying to get gamers to part with their money for horse armour in Oblivion. In general, the Fallout 3 DLC has been well worth the money, with the Pitt offering new weapons and a compelling story, Brokent Steel offering new weapons and an increased level cap, and Point Lookout offering new weapons and new environments. But Operation Anchorage? Well, it offers new weapons. Alas, it also offers an incredibly dull gameplay that feels at odds with the general Fallout 3 experience.

Heavily combat oriented and almost entirely linear, Operation Anchorage has you playing what is essentially an FPS with Fallout’s VATS system, placing you in a virtual reality historical simulation of the war that led to the devastation you see everywhere in the main game. Alas, the snowy wastelands, prescribed paths and lack of any real exploration or gameplay choices are completely at odds with the rest of Fallout, and even the addition of the excellent Gauss Gun can’t compensate for the way Operation Anchorage wrenches you out of the Fallout experience.

To be honest, much had been made of the Operation Anchorage’s weknesses before now, which is why I’d gone for all the other DLC first, but when Anchorage appeared with a 35% reduction, I assumed it would be worth it. Don’t make the same mistake-get the later DLC, but steer clear of Operation Anchorage.

The other part of Fallout 3’s temporary removal from my must play list? Fight Night Round 4. It’s a wonderfully nuanced and speedy simulation of the sweet science, one that uses authentic physics, realistic fighting styles and varied fighter to produce an utterly addictive gaming experience, and that’s before you’ve even taken it online, where it really starts to excel. Check out my full Fight NightRound 4 review here.

Found him!

And it only took an hour or so of backtracking. Doesn't change the main point though. The accidental loss of a dog offered far more guilt than the average morality choice does.

Lost dog, please help!

You know Yahtzee? That Brooker-esque games reviewer we all claim to watch purely for entertainment and never for buying advice? Well he’s recently repeated his not wholly incorrect assertion that morality choices in gaming are meaningless because they involve such extremes: ‘save Western Civilsation or eat a toddler’, and it got me thinking about a very recent gaming experience.

You see, I’ve lost my dog. I first found him in scrapyard in the Capital Wastelands, and my initial thoughts were grim, Another irritating noisemaker to hoover up medicine and supplies, just like Sheva in Resi 5 or Rufferto (my dog in Fable II). I know, I’ve just compared an AI woman to a dog, but her effect on inventory management is the same.

My mood didn’t initially improve, as my newfound companion did his best to prove me right, soaking up enemy bullets like a meatsponge and consuming precious medicine, whilst throwing himself headlong into battle with everything from Supermutants to Mirelurks, forcing me to abandoned my careful ranged approach and dive in to rescue him.

Bit by bit, however, I began to warm to him. It might have been when he dived into a room full of Radroaches and killed them for me, saving me the trouble of switching from combat shotgun to lead pipe and providing me with some irradiated bug meat in the process, or it might have been when I turned around in the wasteland and found that he’d saved me from an attack by one of his canine contemporaries. Whenever it happened, I grew to enjoy Dogmeat’s company, and consequently was keen to keep him out trouble, ordering him to stay on the outskirts of battle. Which is how I found myself shooting solo through a pack of raiders, who led to another pack of raiders, and a house, and a settlement, and a sidequest, and job, and a cave system, and another settlement, with another side mission…wait, where did I leave my dog?

What’s this got to do with morality choices? (Remember I was talking about them up there? You googled for Yahtzee and got my first paragraph instead?) Only that you can’t expect game designers to do everything, or to know what will push your buttons. I’m feeling so guilty about Dogmeat that much as I want to resist the urge and keep playing through Fallout, I know I’m instead going to spend hours scouring the wasteland looking for him.

In Fable II, despite being a paragon of virtue, I was perfectly happy to off innocent Spire guards for the boss or allow young maidens to be aged by shadowy gods, because I had an important job to do. I had no qualms about harvesting Little Sisters in Bioshock’s Rapture - no matter what Libertarians might tell you, their philosophy of unbridled self-interest regardless of the consequences is inherently corrosive, so the Sisters were hardly going to end up having an idyllic lifestyle if I left them alone. No matter what morality choices are engineered for me in the game, I still tend to put the game first and suffer no real guilt because of it. But lose one imaginary irradiated mongrel, and boy, do I get pangs. Such pangs that I have to abandon my planned defence of oft-criticised reviewers' snowclones in order to tell you about my lost dog. Moop.

What's in a game?

So, having outlined what I think a game has to do to get a particular score, I suppose I should list a few notable games and what score I’d give (or have given) them so you can get a feel for what Robo-thumbs review scores mean.

One Star Games:
Ok, howsabout Iron Man? Not quite broken, but it’s hard to think of a more utterly pointless gaming experience, with the possible exception of that worthless DS game that asked for £20 to allow you to send trivia questions to another DS…which you could do with the stylus and send button for free.

Two Star Games:
Did you ever play Baroque? A great story concept and incredibly evocative character design, ruined by one simple conceit - dying and replaying was part of the game, and vital to unfolding the story. Add to that an annoying rogue-like tendency to re-create each level randomly so you couldn’t even speed through your repetition, coupled with an incessant grinding guitar soundtrack and a berk who kept yelling ‘Goddamn’ every third word…gah.

Three Star Games:
Now here it gets interesting, and potentially controversial. The rest of the internet seems to be giving Red Faction Guerrilla the four or five star treatment, but to me, it's simply a three star game. Great fun, no major flaws, but it just doesn’t quite grab me enough. Also in the three star category would be something like, say, Call of Duty 3. So, can you guess where call of Duty 4 and 5 would place?

Four Star Games:
That’s right, Call of Duty: World at War is a four star game; it’s just that little bit too absorbing to be played casually. Arguably, it’s even more visceral than CoD4, if not quite as polished or dramatic. Also in the four star camp I’d put something like Gun - I know a lot of people hated it, but for me, I just had to keep playing more and more. Metal Gear Solid, Resident Evil 4, and Fable II all belong here as well.

Five Star Games:
The biggies, these are the games that make you call in sick to work and stay up all night, the games that simply don’t let you consider the possibility of playing anything else. In here you’ll find the likes of Civilisation III, Fallout 3, Resident Evil 2, Call of Duty 4, Bioshock, Syndicate Wars and Championship Manager.

So, that’s an idea of where I’d place certain games. Now I suppose I’d better go and do some reviews. What’s next? Prototype? Fight Night? No…Indiana Jones and the Staff of Kings. Alas.