Recent reviews by Javi

fun game 100/10

you beat up kids

The Stick of Truth is an oddity in that it's not only faithful to the material, but good too. You really couldn't ask for a better South Park game. It looks and sounds identical to the series, and is just as gleefully offensive. But it's also a very decent RPG, with rich customisation and slick turn-based combat.

You are the new kid , and you've just moved to the not-so-sleepy Colorado mountain town of South Park with your parents. There are enough bits and pieces in the character creator to make a fairly accurate depiction of yourself, and I enjoyed seeing a little paper me sharing the screen with Cartman and co. in what is essentially an episode of the show. Don't worry about what name to enter when you're given the chance, though—everyone refers to you as 'douchebag' regardless.

From the start, most of South Park is free to explore. Wandering its streets and plundering its houses, I was struck by how detailed it is. There are secrets, sight gags, and show references everywhere , and thorough exploration is rewarded with weapons, costumes, and other useful loot. It's a big space, and nearly every building can be entered, from Tom's Rhinoplasty and South Park Elementary, to the houses of all the main characters. The whole game is dense with jokes and Easter eggs, even down to the hundreds of sellable junk items. A lot of love has gone into designing the world.

As you explore your new home you're drawn into a clash between the humans, led by grand wizard Cartman, and the elves, led by... well, I won't spoil the surprise. Cartman recruits you into his army and you're given a selection of classes to choose from: mage, fighter, thief, or jew. Yes, really. Each has its own special abilities, but there are no limits to what armour and weapons you can equip. The two factions are fighting over the titular Stick of Truth, a mystical artefact of great power that, according to the kids, allows the bearer to the control the Universe. But really it's just a stick.

The writing is what you might expect from a South Park game. It's crass, it's satirical, and its parodies—of video games, RPGs, and high fantasy—are keenly observed. Nothing is out of bounds for Matt Stone and Trey Parker, and the game will no doubt stir some controversy. But that's why South Park exists, and I'd be disappointed if it didn't . The show has been ruffling feathers for almost 20 years and I'm glad the game hasn't pulled any punches. A few scenes in the PC version, including Randy Marsh being violated by anus-probing aliens, are censored in certain regions, but they amount to a fraction of the game. I'd consider some of the stuff that wasn't cut to be more controversial.

The war over the Stick gives way to a larger story involving a UFO, a government cover-up, and a virus that turns people (and kittens) into Nazis. But there are opportunities to stray from the story in the form of sidequests. You'll help Al Gore hunt down the elusive ManBearPig, fight Mongol warriors in the Tower of Peace, reunite Mr. Hankey with his missing kids, and dozens of other distractions involving characters from the show. A few are 'collect X things' filler, but most are entertaining and reasonably lengthy, with rewards including the ability to summon, among others, Jesus to help you in battle.

The combat is where Obsidian's involvement becomes clear. They're the studio behind the likes of Fallout: New Vegas, Knights of the Old Republic II, and the forthcoming Pillars of Eternity, so they have some RPG chops, which is evident in South Park's excellent turn-based combat. There's genuine depth here, with status effects, damage modifiers, stances, buffs, debuffs, and customisable gear. It's most reminiscent of the Final Fantasy games, but with a South Park twist. Fling a turd at an enemy and you'll inflict 'grossed out' status, causing them to keel over and puke, while red-headed enemies' 'Touch of the Ginger' ability lowers your defence. It's snappy, fast-paced, and requires some strategic thinking, but bar a few bosses, it can be a little too forgiving on the default difficulty setting.

Real-time elements give the combat some added flavour. You can block by hitting the right mouse button just as an enemy attacks, and most spells and abilities involve some kind of player input to pull off properly, usually in the form of simple, unintrusive minigames. To use Jimmy's bardic powers, performed with his magical lute, you have to complete a short rhythm-action sequence, while the new kid's fart powers (think Skyrim's dragon shouts, but funnier) are timing-based. These make combat feel more hands-on and dynamic than your average turn-based game.

There's a lot of gear in the game, which greatly expands your ability to customise your character and comes with interesting buffs and modifiers. Combined with 'strap-ons', which add additional effects to weapons and armour, this gives you scope to make some unique character builds. As you face enemies with different strengths and weaknesses, you'll find yourself regularly changing costumes to adapt. Much of the fun in the game—that is, the RPG beneath all the jokes and pop culture references—lies in experimenting with the vast array of gear and strap-ons you find as you play. This might be the first time in PC Gamer history where the word 'strap-on' has appeared three times in a paragraph.

The problem with reviewing The Stick of Truth is that I can't really talk about my favourite bits. Being surprised is half the experience, and you won't believe some of the stuff it makes you do. I had to stop myself calling people over to my monitor in the office to see whatever ludicrous thing was happening next. It's one of the most unpredictable, and consistently entertaining, games I've played, which is all the more impressive when you realise that the only reused assets are enemies. Every scene is handcrafted and animated, which is remarkable for a game that lasts between 15-20 hours. The summons and late game special attacks, including one where Cartman overloads his V-chip by repeatedly swearing, are a joy to watch. They've somehow made the famously low-fi South Park feel lavish .

And I laughed. A lot. It's puerile, yes, but not in the dimwitted way the execrable Family Guy game was. South Park's humour has always felt very knowing to me, with its tongue wedged firmly in its bum cheeks. The show marries schoolboy fart jokes with dark, witty satire, and the game is no different. It also manages to steer almost entirely clear of the trap a lot of comedy games fall into, where they joke about something while actively making you do it. See Far Cry 3 spin-off Blood Dragon mocking boring tutorials while making you sit through a boring tutorial for a recent example. The comedy here is never at the expense of fun, even when it's poking fun at gaming cliches.

There are better RPGs out there, but no one's buying The Stick of Truth just for that. You'll probably buy it because you like, or at least are familiar with, South Park, and as an extension of that series it's pretty much perfect. That it's a decent game underneath it all too is a pleasant bonus. Above all, it's just a wonderful piece of entertainment. It's surprising, surreal, packed with jokes, and rarely frustrating. I didn't get bored once across the 17 hours it took me to finish the story and most of the sidequests, and it kept me laughing consistently until the credits. If that isn't worth 90%, I don't know what is.

I’ve never played a game that needed a tutorial less. Association football, soccer, wendyball; whatever you want to call it, it’s that, but on wheels. Drive car at giant ball; hit ball into net; score points. Rocket League’s competitive core has existed for centuries, and this helps make a preposterous concept feel primal. This, in turn, is a laughable way of describing a game which would be called moto carball if it actually existed.

Like dry martinis and penises scribbled in an unattended notebooks, Rocket League is a celebration of simplicity. Driving is delicious. Cars ease around like butter in a heated pan, but always feel under your control. You accumulate boost by driving over markers on the arena floor and unleash it is a thunderous rush that fires you across, over and around the pitch. Because matches take place in smooth, enclosed spaces, you can drive up walls and across ceilings. Cars can also jump and dodge, both of which can be used defensively and offensively. The weight of the cars, as well as your ability to apply unruly boost to jumps, adds a pleasingly haphazard element; like athletic footballers leaping to header high balls, but with less shirt-pulling and zero chance of flattening a £2000 hairdo.

Vehicles feel light and buzzy—somewhere between Micro Machines, and those swift, slidey remote controlled cars which only seem to appear on Christmas Day. This contrasts nicely with the fat, beefy bounce of the ball, which gormlessly invites impact like a punchable cousin. And that’s it. I feel almost guilty reducing a review to ‘ball’ and ‘car’, but there are only ever those two things in the field of play, and crucially, they both feel great. It’s helped by a crisp, intuitive camera. You can focus on the ball, effortlessly whizzing around with it always in view, or switch to the standard camera - very useful for rushing back to defend your goal, or smashing into other vehicles. There are no weapons, but certain markers fill your boost and let you obliterate other players. Mercifully, it’s the generous, instantly-respawning type of obliteration. Destruction is the only conspicuous deviation from clean business of driving around and scoring goals, but in most of the games I played it was a rarity—certainly never frequent enough to be irritating.

Destroying other vehicles is one of many actions which accumulates points; imagine Burnout, but with awards for skill not speed. You receive points for things like clearing the ball from your goal line, spectacular saves and overhead bicycle kicks—named so because the more literal ‘quadracycle wheel-nudge’ is a senseless stew of words. Giving everything a points value means it’s about more than scoring goals. The most valuable players I encountered were workmanlike wingers who selflessly chugged along the the flanks, crossing the ball for greedy goalhunters like me. It stops players from clustering in the same spots and reinforces the concept that Rocket League is a team game.

Except, of course, when it’s not, such as when you’re duelling against a single opponent. Alternatively, you can set teams of four against each other, in matches which become so frantic that they’re less like footy, more like a lost, confused beach ball bashed between bumper cars. Playlists of duels, doubles, standard 3v3 matches and the appropriately named Chaos 4v4 mode are all available online, with ranked playlists limited to duels, doubles and 3v3. There’s a reason why online play is the first option on the menu: Rocket League is designed to be played with actual people, and this is absolutely where it thrives. My experience was marvellously robust. I rarely had to wait long for a game, and if players dropped out mid-session they were immediately replaced by AI bots. Best of all, it’s refreshingly simple to get back into another game, so very little time is spent lingering in lobbies.

If playing online isn’t your thing, there are exhibition matches and full seasons you can solo. The length and difficulty can be altered, and while it doesn’t offer much in the way of depth—cars and football, remember?—I still found myself bonding with pretend teammates. Whether online or offline, playing games randomly unlocks new cars and upgrades. These range from simple things like fresh coats of paint and shiny wheels, to pointy hats for your wizardmobile. Upgrades are purely cosmetic, but volume, variety and the promise of driving around with bubbles frothing from your exhaust should be enough to keep you coming back.

The offline modes do reveal the game’s minor inadequacies, however: team AI can be flaccid and unreliable, especially against tougher opponents, and the same simplicity which makes Rocket League immediately playable can cause things to get repetitive when played alone; a criticism that only becomes apparent precisely because it’s so damn addictive. It’s a simple thing done brilliantly well, kept interesting by the thrill of competition.

[PLOT]

The player takes on the role of 'The Postal Dude', a tall thin man with a goatee, sunglasses, a blue alien t-shirt, and a long black leather coat. The Postal Dude also wears a Happy Smiley pin on his right lapel and a cross pin on his left one. 'The Postal Dude' lives in a trailer park with his nagging wife in the town of Paradise, Arizona

The game levels are split into days of the week starting Monday and finishing Friday. At the beginning of each day, Dude is given several tasks to accomplish, such as 'Get milk', 'Confess sins', and other seemingly mundane tasks. The purpose of the game is to finish all of the tasks throughout the week, and the player can accomplish these tasks in any way he wishes, be it as civilly or as chaotically as possible.The daily tasks can be accomplished in any order, and the game includes one task that is only activated on a certain day if Dude performs a certain action.

[GAMEPLAY]

Interacting with a resident of Paradise
One of the major concepts of Postal 2 is that it is meant to be a "living world", a simulation of a tongue-in-cheek off-kilter town. Game characters live out their lives completely separate from the actions of Dude; walking around town, buying and selling merchandise, and even engaging in random shootouts with each other and the police

[PROPS]

The town features many cars but they are all "useless exploding props", according to Dude, and cannot be driven, although they can be blown up and sent flying into the air. In addition to cats and dogs, other animals present are elephants; these animals can be shot or set on fire—or simply annoyed by the player walking into them—causing them to trumpet with rage and attack anyone within stomping distance. A bizarre feature is the ability to pick up cats as an inventory item. When used, the Postal Dude shoves the barrel of the currently equipped firearm into the cat's anus, as a 'silencer'. Every time a shot is fired, the cat meows in apparent agony, and the gunshot is muffled. After several shots the cat will be killed and will fly from the end of the weapon. Most dogs have the ability to befriend the Dude if he feeds them a continual supply of dog biscuits or feeds them any other food (pizza, donuts, fast food). Once a canine's loyalty has been earned, the dog will attack anyone who attacks the Dude, or alternatively, anyone whom the Dude attacks. Dogs will also chase and kill cats, and play fetch with the Dude's inventory items and also severed heads. There were also going to be cows included in the game, but they were left unprogrammed. They did appear in Apocalypse Weekend and the A Week in Paradise modification.

1.Okay, so the game doesn’t really any story at all. As mentioned above, there an event that happens which makes the main character go mad and just go on a rampage.

2.The game itself is played from a top-down perspective and the controls can be rather fiddly.

3.There is a population count for each level. Two actually. There’s an overall population count and then there’s a hostile counter.

4.Graphically, the game’s visuals are rather dated now, so the game doesn’t have as much impact.

Its a fun game :D