2 - Stuntman - PS2
Racing games are repetitive. As exhilarating as it is to go really, really fast in a really, really nice car, what else is there? Passing? Turning? Enjoying the scenery? Heck, we can do all that on our traditional Sunday drives with Grandpa.
That's why the original Stuntman sounded so damn promising. As a hired stunt driver, you get to step in for pampered celebrities and perform a movie's dangerous and daredevil action all by yourself. No longer about reaching an arbitrary finish line first, the races in Stuntman had actual goals - smash into a pile of boxes, clip another car's door off, squeeze through a narrow alley, pull a reverse 180 in oncoming traffic and, of course, leap through the gaps of a moving train that's also exploding.
The visual payoff for hitting each of these marks is spectacular - breathtaking jumps, stomach-churning corkscrews and hair's width misses that seriously look like they could have happened nowhere but on the silver screen. Excellent vehicle animation and wince-worthy damage physics further amplify the "holy crap" factor and, because of the unique premise, a single level can hold enough action for an entire game. By the time the stunts are packaged together in a custom cinematic trailer at the end of a successful run, anybody watching the awesomeness unfold won't believe you were the one that created it.
Above: Forget the blockbuster result. This is what the typical Stuntman gameplay session looks and feels like.
Oh, if only they knew. The truth is that Stuntman gives the player absolutely nothing for free. Nothing. Beneath its jaw-dropping surface lies the heart of an unforgiving and merciless beast that demands perfection before it will unlock any of its rewards. Basically, if you don't commit the whole thing to memory, you'll never even get to enjoy the stuff we described above.
The game truly seems designed as work, not fun. The director barks upcoming stunts mere moments before you have to perform them, then gets all pissy when you fail. And pressure-free practice runs aren't allowed, so you have no choice but to deal with his broken record nagging - "Too slow! Too slow! Too slow!" Did we mention the 15-20 agonizing seconds of loading while you wait for another five second chance? Simply to progress one stunt further into the sequence before "Too slow! Too slow! Too slow!" Stuntman practically invents trial and error as a new genre.
In the end, the visuals aren't worth the trouble. By the time you can sit back and enjoy them, you've seen the stage so many friggin' times you won't care anymore. Much like real Hollywood magic, sometimes you'd rather not know about the blood, sweat and bitter tears that went into production.
All we can do is hope that theupcoming sequellearns from the original's frustrating missteps.
2 - Stuntman - PS2
Racing games are repetitive. As exhilarating as it is to go really, really fast in a really, really nice car, what else is there? Passing? Turning? Enjoying the scenery? Heck, we can do all that on our traditional Sunday drives with Grandpa.
That's why the original Stuntman sounded so damn promising. As a hired stunt driver, you get to step in for pampered celebrities and perform a movie's dangerous and daredevil action all by yourself. No longer about reaching an arbitrary finish line first, the races in Stuntman had actual goals - smash into a pile of boxes, clip another car's door off, squeeze through a narrow alley, pull a reverse 180 in oncoming traffic and, of course, leap through the gaps of a moving train that's also exploding.
The visual payoff for hitting each of these marks is spectacular - breathtaking jumps, stomach-churning corkscrews and hair's width misses that seriously look like they could have happened nowhere but on the silver screen. Excellent vehicle animation and wince-worthy damage physics further amplify the "holy crap" factor and, because of the unique premise, a single level can hold enough action for an entire game. By the time the stunts are packaged together in a custom cinematic trailer at the end of a successful run, anybody watching the awesomeness unfold won't believe you were the one that created it.
Above: Forget the blockbuster result. This is what the typical Stuntman gameplay session looks and feels like.
Oh, if only they knew. The truth is that Stuntman gives the player absolutely nothing for free. Nothing. Beneath its jaw-dropping surface lies the heart of an unforgiving and merciless beast that demands perfection before it will unlock any of its rewards. Basically, if you don't commit the whole thing to memory, you'll never even get to enjoy the stuff we described above.
The game truly seems designed as work, not fun. The director barks upcoming stunts mere moments before you have to perform them, then gets all pissy when you fail. And pressure-free practice runs aren't allowed, so you have no choice but to deal with his broken record nagging - "Too slow! Too slow! Too slow!" Did we mention the 15-20 agonizing seconds of loading while you wait for another five second chance? Simply to progress one stunt further into the sequence before "Too slow! Too slow! Too slow!" Stuntman practically invents trial and error as a new genre.
In the end, the visuals aren't worth the trouble. By the time you can sit back and enjoy them, you've seen the stage so many friggin' times you won't care anymore. Much like real Hollywood magic, sometimes you'd rather not know about the blood, sweat and bitter tears that went into production.
All we can do is hope that theupcoming sequellearns from the original's frustrating missteps.
