They say that if you ignore your critics, you must also ignore praise. But I am proud that my boss told me that I am a good courier. “AND I am It seems to me that a good courier ”, hammering a distant corvette corvette to a local child’s chimney in a hiking of pedestrians, throwing them to the sky, closing myself from the sound of soft bones on hard concrete, which makes up for me.” The best courier “, I nodded, turning my truck into the front of the beach on the way to the fumigation of the truck. I blow my newly installed Cursehorn, breaking the nearby windows and street lights into the shiny confetti injury.
Sometimes confidence is more valuable than the measured perspective of things, and if you have to focus on praise to block the peaceful voice that tells you how you go to these radiant surf guitars, there is less Dennis Wilson, more Charlie Manson, let it be so. Delive at all costs, in fact I wonder a lot about trust. He recalls GTA with a combined series of open maps, constantly devilish, which pushes your attention to the main and side missions with the promise of the sanctified Fuckaboutsesh-SmaShable subbia suburbia detailed in detail for the individual fence picket occupying the place of rocket launcher and cars. But tragically cursed also with the lack of certainty that it is enough. It wants to be something more.
Thanks to games I perceived stupidity – a cheerful, well -known, earnest, confident stupidity – as a kind of fearlessness. A few years ago, a tweet appeared very well -known man from the industry “In a world where each game is John Wick, the last of us 2 is Schindler’s list.” Apart from the allusion, I remember that my problem was that too few games There are John Wick. We should be lucky that more games show this level of technical virtuosity AND playfulness AND ingenuity AND Character, at the same time demonstrating the level of self -awareness and comfort in such a way to your own borders. Excellent, stupid fun without anything to prove is shorter than you may seem.
This is vitre: providing at all costs is about 70% of the video game, and pretty good. The rest are uninteresting cutscenes and conversations, and other different faffs, with the participation of a deeply unbelievable hero, distance enough to immediately be repulsive, and it is also a kind of bozo, who says that “well, here is nothing!” Loud for yourself before entering the interview. The centuries have passed since I played free chaos (destroy all people! They come to my mind, if not detailed), and the result was for lunch with a friend I have not seen for years, only to pull out a delicious milk cocktail from my hands every ten minutes and refuse to give it back to the next part of their scenario. This is not a good script, Eric. And give me my milk cocktail.
I wouldn’t even say that writing the game is bad, in the sense that it contains very good things resulting from people who place ingenious ideas on paper. The formula remains consistent. Or get something and take it to a place, sometimes with a few stops on the other side, without ruining. Or collect or provide many things quickly, sometimes with time limiting, sometimes when attacking by clays or other pests. You will receive several load charging tools to improve your truck as you progress – winch, crane. But the game is so imaginative with twists and framing that every delivery stands out.
One mission, you provide a stone statue of the mayor, who replaced the elderly one, which was painted white for years with a really biblical amount of birds. When you come back the treacherous slopes of the volcano, you are on the corner of Armada from red pigeons, forced to twist the incoming shit to ensure your load as flawless as possible. Another, you provide a gigantic marlin, passing on the feed barrels on the route so as not to hang and try to roll the car with a tail. Then you can get into the competing courier trucks and the parcels stealing them to make deliveries yourself.
All this is more stupid thanks to what Brendy described as “Slip-Slidey Micro Machines Goodness”. Although I imagine that I am trying to drive a vehicle with a mouse so sensitive to pressure, and the keyboard is a nightmare, on the controller your truck is tight and responsive, while reacting to the smallest overzealty on your part with your Klauń Hyrry. This is fine, good and welcome. The worse you drive, the cooler it is and after playing in two parryrfs in a row they constantly shouted at me like JK Simmons in Whiplash, to do it right, it is great to play something happily allowed the admissibility of sloppy, slippery smashbastardry.
So what would be the perfect racing of all this imaginative chaos? Why, of course, some traumatic story for your courier. Comic stripes in which the bossy father did not support the love of the engineer for “these damn gadgets”, he wants him to shoot with a fox instead. But he can’t do it! He can’t pull the trigger! Yesterday I ran over twelve people, a game. I did at least twice as many homeless people. There is a rivalry with higher management, which is trying to discover your courier’s unable to discover the past. You have to go to bed, wake up and dress every few missions in your apartment, even though there are no other SIM elements that would give this goal. At the end of the first act, there is a sequence in which you need to push the boxes and cabinets from the door to escape from the burning building. It is uncompetitive, uninteresting, indefinite and there are far too many of them.
The point is that the city is already a nice enough place to spend time in terms of vibration; Toytown Pastiche from the middle of the Americana, who creates a sufficiently known and rich sense of space to enjoy the leveling of this place to the bits. There is enough here to convey the identity of the game without all Faff. And here I come back to thinking about confidence. More precisely, how the delivery at all costs has a lack of trust. The game seems to be afraid that it will be defined by the strongest elements and tries the type of structure of telling stories that does not serve it at all.
Because it does not seem to me a story that someone particularly wanted to tell, or additional sequences that someone particularly wanted. These are inclusions born of nervous longing for fulfilling the form of impersonal idea of what it is true Videogame, a ladder for a worthy value built from the choice. Even worse, they drag the party down and refuse to give me my damn milk cocktail. If you think that you have more tolerance to the battle of the “Skip Dialog” button, go in every respect. As I say, there is some great, stupid fun.
