Tags

, , ,

Several years back, Sony released God of War for the PlayStation 2. The game oddly slipped under my radar, and I didn’t end up picking it up until it had fallen to the $20 price tag. While I was impressed with the title’s technical achievements, it didn’t totally gel for me, in part because the game had an obsession with throwing an endless number of foes at me and didn’t spend enough time on the story, which had some interesting merits to it.

In fact, it’s worth noting that the series didn’t win me over until I played the sequel, and I bring this story up because it was the same thing for me with the Uncharted series, save that the timing was different.

I played Uncharted 1 & 2 at the beginning of this year. They had been sitting on my shelf for a while before I finally gave them the long overdue playtime. Like God of War, I saw the game’s merits but the experience didn’t click with me. In particular, the title fancied itself for exploration and puzzle solving— Indiana Jones stuff— yet spent more time shoveling waves of enemies down my throat with minimal plot to pad it out.

Uncharted 2, thankfully, was much better. I would comfortably say it’s one of my favorite PS3 games, with a number of incredible set pieces and well balanced difficulty that, save for one portion near the end of the game (which is at least consistent to the plot) where things get a little out of hand.

Uncharted as a series works because there’s a human element. This is true of all three games, where Nathan Drake and his friends are somewhat down to earth, narrowly surviving overwhelming odds. The games work best when the odds still operate within a realm of plausibility, and the second game had succeeded with an excellent balance of how far to push things at virtually every moment.

The original game often did not. Neither, unfortunately, does the third one.

Uncharted 3 starts out on a strong note. Topping the opening of the predecessor was a tall order, and Naughty Dog chose to open with what is essentially a bar fight. This segment shows off the numerous improvements and additions to the melee system, which are one of the game’s finest points. A number of set pieces allow Nathan to slam beer bottles into his enemy’s heads when they’re in reach, slam doors in their faces, and generally just make good use of the environment.

This tutorial of sorts is followed by a flashback two chapters in length, laying the backstory of how Nathan and his partner-in-crime Victor Sullivan first met and setting the groundwork for their friendship. It’s an immensely enjoyable sequence and is followed by several more joyful chapters in London, the first of several locales in a story spanning Europe and the Middle East.

Not long after, the experience begins to go downhill. Plausibility is steadily cast to the wind, as Naughty Dog attempts to balance Nathan’s expanded repertoire of moves by introducing newer, more heavily defended enemies. Foes begin to appear in droves, starting with Nathan and Co. arrive in a desert fortress, and the game just isn’t the same after that.

Faceless hired goons pour out of the woodworks. They’re armed not just with handguns and machine guns, but sniper rifles and rocket launchers aplenty. The game stops being about finding the lost wonders of the world and turns into one man pitted against a mercenary army.

The human element is lost here. These revamped enemies attack with no regard to their own safety, charging into the fray and sometimes protected by heavy armor and riot shields. Those with explosives attack with the intent to kill you and care not for the wellbeing of their enemies. Nathan panics, runs and rolls while his foes behave more like well-oiled machines than human beings.

Suspension of disbelief is no longer strained, it’s merely gone. After a frivolous detour three chapters in length, Nathan is tasked with getting onboard a plane—clearly the same one displayed on the cover art of the game. A random patrolling guard is armed with a grenade launcher.

Again: a grenade launcher.

…

Other guards wait on rooftops and on cargo containers as if solely expecting you, the player, to ruin their boss’ day. The experience is often soured by suicidal soldiers with unerring accuracy and no regard for collateral damage.

And yes, this is all on Normal.

With few exceptions, the firefights in Uncharted 3 stop being fun once you reach that desert fortress. Attempts to melee in such circumstances are met with mixed results, as foes have no qualms about firing on you and risking hitting their allies (never mind that said allies will often survive launched rockets that have easily killed you). When sneaking, soldiers response with classic Metal Gear Solid awareness, collectively knowing you’re in the area if even one sees you.

What makes this all so frustrating is the amount of love and care lavished into Uncharted 3. The first third of the game (give or take) is extremely strong and rock solid. Many of the chapters, even the frivolous three I mentioned earlier, boast not just incredible detail, but many fantastic set pieces.

That airplane from the cover? Once you’re onboard, the following events are fantastic, fueled with the sort of excitement that made Uncharted 2 so memorable and coupled with narrative moments which are sometimes exciting and always compelling. When the grunts show up again, the mood is soured as they pour the same absurd forces down that they did earlier.

The characters remain as sharp as ever and while this is not the best story (owing to a few semi-predictable ambushes, as well as a wonder drug with mildly inconsistent effects), the majority of the game is actually quite good. The combat, however, bogs the experience down so heavily (often by repeatedly getting the player killed and forcing them to restart a segment) that it overwhelms how the rest of the game may appear and effectively kills the experience.

In short, I grew to hate the combat.

Normally I would wrap here, but the multiplayer bears mentioning. I’m often in need of things to play with my wife and Uncharted 2 let me down with online-only multiplayer. Uncharted 3′s inclusion of local play pleased me, and after several chapters, we decided to give it a go.

Fundamentally, this mode suffers from the same problems as the main game. Evaluating this is different, as I expect more combat to pop up given the mode, as it wouldn’t be prudent to focus on the more plodding climbing and puzzle solving, things that work better in a single player experience.

At first, it all started out pretty well. A little hectic, but we were having a good time going through the separate story mode, fighting off ambushes and defending one another while finding our way through.

Then a heavily armored enemy showed up. He could not be grappled, fought or slowed in any way. His shotgun fired without rest, and his defense was through the roof. He was the first of many.

More foes came, all with explosives and sniper rifles. Being able to pull a fallen ally up eased the experience, but the heavily armored enemies weighed things down at every vantage point, as they walked up like a Terminator, their only purpose to kill, with no regard for their own safety and no reaction to pain.

Regarding these many foes, my wife proclaimed that it was absurd, that the undead, possessed things in Resident Evil 4 & 5 staggered at being shot, yet these human foes too often would not.

We made it to the end of the first chapter but were unable to clear the boss and make the last step. I suspect the difficulty was scaled to be balanced for a greater number of players, as we were operating on the minimum. Since we only have two controllers and no desire to play with random strangers, that’s not likely to change.

Uncharted 3 is a good game, and often times it’s even a great game. It’s production is remarkable but a severe oversight in how the enemies are armed and tally cloud this quality, badly. I prefer it over the first game, but the second will remain closest to my heart. I didn’t expect to be saying this, but perhaps the game being made for the PlayStation Vita will be better.

I suppose I’ll find out next year.

Advertisement