#kitty could have been an excellent addition if only she had murdered more people
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In conclusion, The Invisible Woman is sadly not very good.
Part of my disappointment is due to expecting a movie that came packaged as part of one of those "Universal Legacy Collection" dvds to at least gesture at being a horror film - this is mostly my own fault. But also, it's just not a very good comedy - very little of it is funny and much too many of the 'jokes' are either Charlie Ruggles or 'hur, hur, a naked invisible lady, oops a man accidentally touched her,' neither of which have aged well.
I will admit that I was hoping for a cool new classic monster lady to add to my sadly very small collection. There is, after all, no reason that a woman can't also turn invisible, be murderously grumpy and prone to petty violence, and have a constant case of the sniffles. Instead, I got this sexist nonsense.
Alas.
#sara's cinema corner#can't win 'em all i guess#for the record#my monster lady collection is:#the bride (natch)#countess marya zaleska from dracula's daughter#kaye caldwell from son of dracula#irena dubrovna from cat people#and malita from the devil doll#not enough monster ladies is what i'm saying#kitty could have been an excellent addition if only she had murdered more people#the invisible woman
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Ghoul Goblin (Dresden!verse)
For context, Prescott never saw Harryâs ad in this universe, thus Dresden was never called in for the Talbot case. Conversely, Joseph Talbot had better luck finding a magical teacher in his early years, so someone else showed up.
âIâm sorry for calling you all this way, Kurt.â
âItâs no problem at all, Father Vincent. Iâm glad to help in any way I can.â The old priest smiled at his pupil. âDid I ever tell you that you would have been an excellent addition to the Ordo Malleus. Sometimes I think you missed your calling, Kurti.â
The indigo man just laughed.  âI donât think I would have made a very good priest, Father, but thank you for the compliment. Now, what did you need my help for?â
The priest tossed a letter over to the acrobat.  âRead that then tell me what you think.â After a few moments, gold eyes looked up.  âTalbot, thatâs the name of the apprentice you had before me, right?â
âIt is. Itâs also the name of a family cursed to be targeted by supernatural creatures. Joseph wasnât interested in being part of the Church either, but he was desperate to come up with a way to protect his siblings.â
âYou do seem to pick people who arenât necessarily Catholic or even religious.â
âMy teaching is open to all. Although you should meet Roarke. Manâs enthusiastic, embraces the priesthood whole-heartedly. I think youâd get along.â
âSo why isnât he here instead?â
âWeâve got rumors that a whole slew of vampires are gathering in Russia somewhere for a raid. Heâs out there trying to run down some concrete information for us. But anyway, you read the letter. Josephâs pretty sure that the curse has come home to roost and would like some help in taking down the hunters.â Father Victor sighed.  âIâd go myself, but frankly Iâm in no condition to take down anything that strong and durable anymore. I was hoping you could go in my stead and assist your fellow apprentice.â
Kurt winced, having found the photo of Carl Talbotâs torn up body.  âI also think there are two killers. One man gets torn up while his sister gets poisoned? Most killers donât change their methods so quickly. And given that the only inheritance worth claiming belongs to Joseph and heâs the one calling in the cavalry, I donât think weâre looking at a professional on the job, as it were. Yes, Iâll pack my bags immediately and tell the X-Men Iâm taking a sabbatical. Letâs try and stop this before it goes any further.â
âJoseph? Joseph Talbot? My name is Kurt Wagner, Father Vincent sent me.â Kurt knocked on the iron gates and wondered if he should have brought the holoimager. As much as he wasnât ashamed of his appearance, it did make it difficult to blend into a crowd. He had wanted to scout out the funeral earlier today but hadnât been able to get close enough to see anyone.
An older man came out, with a shotgun pointed at his chest.  "First, prove that your human and not one of the supernatural creatures out to get me. Second, tell me something that proves you really were sent by Father Vincent.â
âFather Vincent has the Eye of Thoth tattooed on his wrist. As for proof-â Kurt teleported past the iron fence and grabbed the shotgun, carefully pointing it towards the ground and blocking the trigger with one of his fingers. The other man loosened his grip and let Nightcrawler turn on the safety before handing the gun back.
âOkay, youâre the real deal. Come on inside.â
Once inside the house, Joseph explained the situation.  âI take it youâve heard about the curse?â
âFather Vincent explained it to me. I take it the family is being targeted.â
âYes,â the older man gestured to a photo on the mantle.  âCarl, Sarah, me, Alex, Madeline or Maddie rather, John Jr or JJ, and Ella. Carl and Sarah are already dead and I donât know what killed them.â
âWell, Iâve got some bad news for you. Iâm thinking youâve got at least two supernatural creatures after you. One very nasty predator, the one who ripped your brother apart. The other was more subtle. Has there been any updates on your sisterâs case?â
âPoison then strangling. The poison only put her into a deep sleep, then whatever it was broke inside and suffocated her with her own scarf.â
âHmm, thatâs pretty unusual. Your brother was killed outside so it could be any number of things that are strong enough to rip a human limb from limb. But not a lot of supernatural creatures can break into a homeâs barrier to do harm to the homeâs owner.â
âSo either someone she invited in or-â Joseph was cut off by the sound of a buzzer. Checking his camera, he swore.  âDamn, thatâs Deputy Sheriff Tremaine. Iâd better go see if he has any new information. Stay here.â Kurt watched through the window, obscured by the curtain as Joseph went out. The officer seemed fairly sympathetic although it was clear the older man was in no mood for niceties. They talked for a while through the fence and then-Â
Kurt couldnât see what had picked up the car and thrown it at the fence but it was clear that at least one of the attackers was in the area. He turned to grab his swords and teleport out but it was already too late. During the fight, Joseph had fired his shotgun out into the dark. Instead of hitting anything, the gun misfired, tearing a hole in Josephâs chest and knocking out the officer for a few minutes.
At that moment the police officer recovered from his daze and looked up to see Nightcrawler looming over the dead body. The inevitable happened.  âMonster!â he screamed and pulled out his gun and started firing.
Kurt bamfed away, into the trees just beyond the edge of the property. Things had just gotten a lot harder.
Kurt stewed in the corner of the bar and debated what to do. Joseph was dead but he still had four living siblings who needed to be protected. How Kurt was going to do that was the problem. He couldnât exactly go up to Alex and Maddie and introduce himself. Theyâd probably had never even heard of the X-Men in Boone Mill. For once, Kurt cursed himself for not bringing the holoimager. Usually, he liked his appearance, despite all the trouble it caused, but it meant that strangers rarely trusted him. And since Prescott had started warning everyone about him, he couldnât exactly go around questioning people to learn more. Even in the bar, he was completely covered up, with trenchcoat, hat, and aviator glasses. Â
As Kurt continued to nurse his last beer, two more people got up to leave the bar. He didnât know who the girl was but he recognized Josephâs younger brother from the photo. Dropping off enough money to cover his tab and tip, the hunter slipped into the shadows to follow the couple. The very least he could do was ensure that Alex got home safely.
Alas, this was not to be. Almost the moment the couple hit a busy intersection, a brief scuffle broke out, obscuring his view. By the time he had gotten them back in sight, it was too late. It looked like Alex had walked in front of a bus but Kurtâs reflexes had caught the flash of movement that had preceded the screeching brakes. More tellingly, the girl who had walked out of the bar with Alex was gone.
So. Alexâs murdereress had waited for him to wander out into public then used supernatural speed and strength to take him out. Probably the same creature who had murdered Carl then. This lacked the finesse of Sarahâs and Josephâs deaths. Four Talbots down, two of them on his watch. But at least he knew the human form of one of them.
Kurt paused. Four Talbots killed, in order of birth. What was it that Kitty had said? Once is coincidence, twice is happenstance, three times is enemy action. The Talbots werenât just being targeted by two separate killers, they had turned this into a competition. Kurt didnât know why, probably some territorial dispute if he had to guess, but the reason didnât matter. He knew the next target and the face of at least one of the killers. He needed to get Maddie Talbot behind Josephâs walls immediately. That would at least keep her safe from the woman and the two killers wouldnât go after the younger siblings until Maddie had died. That would give him more time to investigate and set up traps.
For a second time, his train of thought stopped. He was forgetting something. It had been the second killer who had killed Joseph, and heâd gone straight through the houseâs threshold. Twice, since heâd killed Sarah too. So the house wasnât a complete fortress.
Kurt shook his head. Heâd just have to hope that whatever invitation had been extended had been revoked by Josephâs death. The occult-obsessed Talbot must have been aware of the issue but he hadnât had true sight. Something had been let in unknowingly. Kurt would have to go over Josephâs security footage and see who had come by in the past month or so.
âHalt demon!â Looked like he had spent too long thinking. The sheriff and his deputy had shown up and were pointing guns in his direction. He wasnât too keen on letting them arrest him but he wasnât going to let them use the surrounding crowd as a backstop. So he let the younger one approach and even grab his arm . . . then teleported away into the woods, leaving his empty trenchcoat behind.
If Kurt had one thing to be thankful for, it was that he truly wasnât as magical as his appearance suggested. If he had been, heâd have had a lot more trouble kidnapping the remaining Talbots out of their beds and teleporting them to Josephâs manor. As it was, he barely got little Ella out in time before their house went up in flames. The two competitors saw the end of their little game in sight and were clearly stepping up their measures to win.
Maddie was apparently a bit more prepared for this scenario than he had anticipated. When he appeared with Ella in a cloud of smoke, sheâd found another of Josephâs guns and had it pointed right at him.
She was lucky he wasnât actually here to harm them. He carefully placed the waking Ella on the ground and shooed her in the direction of her sister. Then, equally slowly, he raised his hands as a gesture of peace towards the Talbots.  âGuten abend. My name is Kurt Wagner, but you can call me Nightcrawler.â Seeing the gun remain steadily pointed at him, he added, âIâm a friend of your brother, Joseph.â And silently thanked his humanity for giving him the ability to lie.
âUh-huh.â The gun didnât waver.  âAnd you could prove that how?â
Think fast, Kurti.  âIf I wasnât his friend, how would I have known to take you to his house?â
The blonde frowned.  âTrue . . . but on the other hand, he died on his own property. Maybe he just trusted the wrong person.â
âIf I had wanted you dead, Madeline Talbot, you would be dead already. I brought you here first, after all.â
âPoint for your side.â She dropped the barrel to the floor and re-engaged the safety.  âSo, got any ideas?â
âIâm sure the attackers-â
âAttackers? As in more than one?â
âYes. Two of them. Anyway, one of them has already attempted to burn your house tonight. Iâm pretty sure theyâre on their way here to attack again. I need some time to set up traps to stop them.â
âDo you really think you can win? You didnât exactly help my brother.â
âWhoever it was, tampered with your brotherâs gun before I got here.â The young woman looked at the gun sheâd been pointing at him.  âNo, there were a few others that had also been tampered with, but Iâve already disposed of them. Also, the bomb in your brotherâs safe room, I deactivated too. I donât know who either of the attackers are but at least one of them managed to get past your brotherâs precautions.â
âAccording to Deputy Tremaine, that person was you.â He reached over and grabbed one of the iron implements on the table.  âDoes this convince you Iâm human?â
âYeah. Yeah, it does.â
âGut. Now, madchen, take your siblings and get down to the newly re-safened safety room. Iâve got some monsters to drive off.â Maddie nodded and turned to herd her brother and sister downstairs. But before she left she asked him, âDo you really think you can win?â
Kurt pulled out his swords and the C4 he had brought.  âFraulein, your brother was good but Iâm better. I destroy vampires for a living. Iâll be able to handle these two.â
The first to charge in was the girl. But she wasnât a girl now. Instead, she had grown, her height rising by at least 30 cm, her shoulders widening like a gorillaâs and her mouth opening to become a giant maw filled with shark-like teeth. In her giant hand, she held the badly mauled but still breathing deputy sheriff.  âCome out, hunter! Bring me the girl or Iâll eat this man for a snack before taking all three siblings!â
âVerdammt!â Kurt started one of his traps. He got in Josephâs car and sped straight for the duo. Just before he hit, he teleported out, grabbed the sheriff then teleported away again. He dumped the man on the porch and turned to the ghoul. The carâs momentum had carried her into a tree but that didnât mean much to a ghoul. She had braced herself against the tree and was starting to lift the car to throw at him.
Kurt detonated the C4 he had packed into the carâs trunk.
The explosion pulverized the ghoul and to add insult to injury, set off the two extra jerry cans of gas he had included. The German watched then dodged the claw that came hurtling out of the conflagration.  âFoolish hunter, did you think that would kill me?â
âNo, but this will.â Kurt teleported onto her shoulders, grabbed the ghoulâs head, then teleported off again with her head. And only her head. He dropped it on the driveway and tasered it for good measure.  âTry regenerating from that!â
He heard clapping and turned. The other killer had arrived.  âIâm impressed. Not only did you take Ambre out, but you found the time to disarm the traps in the saferoom. O now need to worry. Now that LaChaise is dead, Iâve won our wager. No need for me to go after any of the other Talbots.â
Kurt retrieved his swords.  âNice try. But I am a Monsterjager. It wouldnât be right for me to let a human hunting abomination go free.â
âSuit yourself.â The creature stepped into the light. It had the sharp teeth and asymmetrical features of a goblin.  âOne question,â Kurt panted as he warded off a blow that would have taken his head off if it had connected.  âHow did you get past the thresholds without an invitation or losing your powers?â
âI didnât. Iâve been the local handyman for the past 20 years. No one suspected me in the first place.â As it turned out, maybe the goblin had a reason to avoid fighting the ghoul. He was good, stronger and faster than an ordinary human. But Kurt was better. And in the end, it was a simple matter of a hidden steel sword (coated with dark, non-reflective oil), lodged in the shade of a bush, and teleporting away when the goblin charged what looked like a disarmed opponent. The steel went straight through the goblinâs heart, instantly killing him.
Kurt waited to see if any more supernatural creatures appeared. But as the sun came up, he went inside to let the Talbots out of the safe room.
#dresdenverse#Kurt Wagner#case fic#attempted case fic anyway#one less death#but the talbots are still cursed
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Rabbot Reviews: Far Cry 5
Great taste, empty calories.
Far Cry 5 is the latest game in quite the lineage of a series known, as you might surmise, as Far Cry. Game number 6, actually, dependent on how canon you feel Primal was. FC as it stands now, though, is a bit of a⊠how to put it? A long call? A distant yell? An outlying wail? A remote shout? No, a far cry from the original two games, before Ubisoft bought the franchise.
(Yeah, thatâs the phrase. Glad I thought of it, though I donât know where I got it.)
((Incidentally, Remote Shout is the name of my new indie punk garage band. Album drops: never, because this is a joke.))
Starting after Far Cry 3, Ubisoft has been telling their dev teams to make lightning strike twice. Thus, each game hereafter has been an excited waiting game of seeing how theyâll try and ultimately fail to match the demented, yet incredibly charismatic villain that was Vaas.
And 5 feels like this illogical conclusion of just that. Because you have not one, not two, but four scenery-eating, rompy villains. Less a refined, precise attempt at the concept, and more of a blunderbuss approach; hoping to tickle a little of everyoneâs villain fancy.
That, I feel, is the perfect metaphor for the game in general.
Last call to avoid spoilers.
Speaking of fitting descriptions of the entire game, letâs start with the intro. Because I have mixed feelings about it, at best. Thereâs a lot it does right, and some things it simply gets wrong, in regards to the rest of the narrative as a whole.
The pacing and atmosphere are phenomenal. The very air feels heavy around you as you enter into the church, here to take the titular Joseph Seed away from his flock. The pressure of the stakes are established flawlessly, leaving a feeling of palpitation, and a true understanding of just how dangerous Joseph is. Surprised as I was, the game even managed to shock me a little.
In that respect, itâs fantastic.
But then the game uses the cop crew you rolled in with as your motivation for the entire rest of the game, in the form of saving them from the Seed family, and oh god, itâs Fallout 4 all over again.
Just like the Bethesda example above, this aspect of the intro simply doesnât work. And not just because itâs asking me to unconditionally care about cops.
This sequence of the narrative focuses on every other aspect of narrative setup except for the characters that youâre supposed to get invested in. You get but the most cursory taste of who they are as people. Such a small amount of time can mainly attach their personalities to a specific emotion.
Whitehorse is the calm voice of reason. Marshall Burke is frustrated. Pratt is nervous. And Hudson is⊠there too, I guess. Look, Iâll be honest, I had to look up half these peopleâs names for this review. Which Iâm sure is only a good sign.
With so little to go on, I found I simply didnât care whenever a cultist bigwig dangled one of them in front of me on a string, expecting me to bat like a good little kitten. Instead, I yawned and wandered off to play with the packaging the toy had come in.
Like a mischievous little kitten.
Which is such a shame, because there are so many other more interesting characters I actually did care about. And in the few scenes where the Seeds held them to ransom instead, the game suddenly had actual stakes.
Nick and Kim Rye were delightful every time they showed up. Virgil was so honestly sincere, I couldnât help but like him; and his past, as it unfolded, was interesting to dive into. And Jerome was pretty much cool by default, and an excellent concept for a foil to the cultist bad guys, and everything they stood for.
But the story feels almost unconfident in its execution. Like the team is scared youâll get bored. So the solution, write more story, or rather, several seemingly self-contained stories across the three separate regions.
With no overarching theme or plot threads besides âJoseph Seed probably gave the command for this at some point,â however, the connection feels loose at best. And this looseness makes the narrative feel all the weaker.
Iâd much rather the story had been more focused and condensed. If theyâd honed in on about one third as many characters, and if the villains felt a little less redundant, the overall narrative couldâve been much more refined and interesting.
Even the gameplay, while fun, has the same issue.
When traversing from place to place, you canât drive for five minutes without a dozen random encounters passing you by, whether they travel by wheel or foot or paw. What should be a ten minute trek can sometimes take 30.
Again, it feels like the game is nervous. Like itâs worried that if Iâm not firing a gun every two minutes, Iâm losing interest. Look, I know this is the age of the internet, but my attention span hasnât deteriorated that bad.
What were we talking about again?
But itâs sad though, as it detracts from what could be some very nice vistas and scenic routes. I can barely enjoy the quiet, introspective new addition of fishing without a randomly spawned cultist with an exaggerated country accent shouting âFay-oond âeem!â and scaring away all the darn fish with a wild assault rifle volley.
Speaking of guns, letâs talk about politics. Something that could only ever be fun and only ever go over very well.
I donât want to get too deep into this, as itâs been covered to death, and more eloquently than Iâll probably put it. For a better dive into the subject, Iâd recommend watching Errant Signalâs âThe Art of Saying Nothing.â To sum it up though, while at face value, FC5 might seem as though itâs about to lay down a scathing indictment of certain aspects of American culture, it really doesnât.
Not for lack of bringing it up though.
The lady who owns Peaches the cougar, that is to say, the former owner of this sweet large kitten (no Iâm not looking up the name this time; sheâs not even a narrative footnote), is a prejudicial old woman who lives alone in the woods.
Immediately upon entering her domicile so I could acquire my new kitty and leave, she mentioned that my player character looked vaguely Italian, and made an off-color comment about not wanting her silver/jewels to go missing.
What is this, the turn of the century, last century?
At Hurkâs place, you can meet his dad, who wants to build a wall. What, no, not a wall down there. A wall in the north, to keep out those accursed Canadians and their liberal ideology.
Addressing controversy by obfuscating the real world equivalent is cute, but it lacks the punch that makes it such that itâs proving some kind of point. Here, itâs npcâs that youâre expected to stay on good terms with, so that you can get more quests and goodies, like a new pet or ride.
(Shame you never get a new pet who is also your new ride, though.)
And why? Because theyâre supposedly better than the cultists who only physically hurt and impede people different than themselves? Whatâs the takeaway here supposed to be, that itâs only physical extremism thatâs bad and--oh god wait no, itâs Bioshock Infinite all over again.
Of course, we all know the real reason why. To offend as few people as possible. Because every offended party is a potential lost sale. Hence why despite clearly using Christian/Baptist imagery and motifs, no cultist ever actually mentions Jesus by name, and the peggy symbol only vaguely and technically resembles that of a cross.
Iâve bad news for you, though, Ubisoft; itâs too late. If you wanted to offend as few people as possible, it was already over the instant you let writers set it in a rural, dominantly Christian, dominantly white community, in America. Right wing talking heads were lining up to be officially offended the instance promos started showing bad guys toting guns, bibles, and the American flag.
Because despite bragging about having thick skin, when it comes down to it, they typically donât.
At some point, you almost want to lean in uncomfortably close to the gameâs face and tell it âGo on. Say what you really mean.â And it never does. Making it satire with no teeth, which isnât actually satire, but parody. Itâs a flag-waving, gun-toting parody of American culture. Itâs an American beer commercial meets Saintâs Row. Itâs a romanticized outdoorsy rural locale with tacky looking guns and gruesome murder set to made-up gospel and old rock hits.
Which doesnât feel that far off from a Saintâs Row game, but it wildly conflicts with the tone Far Cry 5 very quickly establishes for itself. And itâs such a waste, because to use an on-theme colloquialism, âbless its little heart.â
Itâs trying so hard, and there are some things I canât help but enjoy about it.
There was a moment early on, when I was creeping through the bushes of a small neighborhood as slowly and quietly as I could. I had not but a bow and a pistol to my name. Cultists were stacking dead bodies while their speaker-mounted truck played their very own choir, singing about water washing away sin. As they were finishing up, they began to sing along.
It was as First Blood meets Jim Jones as the entire game felt, and it all just clicked. The gameplay and tone all lined up so perfectly and felt so right. Where did that go?
Luckily, the game is also pretty charming in various other inadvertent or otherwise unintentional ways.
Obviously itâs cute and wholesome that you can pet all the non-hostile animals. But itâs completely adorable how Peaches growls at you when you go where she canât follow.
Thereâs also random npcâs you can recruit for the gameâs buddy system, aside from the nine named specialty partners. At first, I seriously wondered how any of them could compare to Peaches, the oversized mewling kitten, or Grace, the cool as a cucumber sniper lady.
But then I found some lady named Evie, who looked like somebodyâs mom, and I honestly found it hard to part with her. There was something so ernest and amusing about the idea of somebodyâs mom who used to embarrass them at every PTA meeting or bake sale, now in an awkwardly-fitting militia vest yelling âGet some!â to every other cultist who dared cross our path.
The gameplay is also varied enough with timed races, and puzzling treasure hunting segments. The latter in particular, I really enjoyed. They had me doing everything navigating mazes of fire to hopping and swinging along successive grapple lines under a bridge, skirting river water along the way. Itâs good, varied fun.
I also really appreciate the organic way in which story beats are unlocked, which is really saying something for a sandbox. Normally, there are specific missions that unlock the next cutscene that actually matters, and everything else feels like so much filler and padding.
Far Cry 5 had the genius idea that everything should contribute to an overall progress bar. This makes it that nothing feels like padding, as youâll always be working toward the next story beat, even if youâre doing what feel like side quests.
But itâs one step forth and one step back with you, isnât it Far Cry 5?
Once youâve unlocked the next story beat, youâll be whisked away to the next cutscene to have one of the villains get in your face for the next five minutes, whether you were ready for that or not. It gets annoying after the second time, and downright numb the fifth or sixth.
Itâs also where the writing starts to fall apart some more.
You know that old James Bond trope where the bad guy has him right where they want him? But then because the villain is so contrived in how they want to handle him, he ends up getting away? Well that happens almost every time. Itâs cheesy.
Also where some of the worst writing in the game comes into play.
Jacob Seed has a neat gimmick, Iâll admit. Heâs all about classic conditioning, A Clockwork Orange style. Alright, interesting enough. And instead of escaping, you wake up, presumably days later, having finally escaped his mind control. It was a neat twist at first.
Whatâs incredibly stupid though is everyone points it out. Dutch, Eli, all characters who know about Jacobâs MO, and none of them think anything suspicious about it. Nope, just âHey, now that I can finally get in contact with you after an entire week of you not responding, come back and get uncomfortably close to me and people I care about.â
Nobody thinks anythingâs up with that? Even after it happens three or four times?? And not even my own character thinks to warn them that Iâm being psychologically manipulated to kill them???
Oh. Look at that. The game made me kill Eli. How very unsurprising. What is that, something like four hours of build up to a twist anyone could see coming if theyâve ever seen a story?
âWho cares, itâs fun, isnât it?â
I mean, yes, sure. Itâs very fun, in fact. Fewer things have been more satisfying than timing it just right to take down three baddies at once, with a sniper shot from Grace, a mauling from Peaches, and a throwing knife from myself.
And like I said before, the gameplay is just varied enough to not grow dull. But what should be a good game is held back by mediocre writing and a lack of commitment.
Weirder than any of it though is the troves of people lining up to say it doesnât matter, because the game is fun. Listen, I can enjoy the gameplay for hours of mind-numbing fun, but still be able to pick apart everything wrong with the overall experience. Thereâs nothing really wrong with that. It doesnât completely impede what enjoyment I, or anybody else, was able to get out of it.
I really donât get this, though. This is no critique of the game itself, mind you, but it is at fault for bringing it up again, even if by accident. So it bears discussion.
Clean Prince was right when he said that Far Cry 5 brought up a lot of whatâs wrong with modern gaming culture. Yet I canât help but disagree with his reasoning behind this statement. Because he, like many, asked why any of it matters, so long as the game is fun.
Look.
Gamers clamored for years, demanding our hobby be taken seriously. Entire groups and brands like Extra Credits formed, to try and gain for games the same respect film and literature already had.
Nowadays, we have critics aplenty, like Super Bunny Hop, and the above-mentioned Errant Signal, who regularly dissect games with the same attention to detail movies, shows, and novels receive.
We did it. Weâre here. We made it, right?
No.
People tear down bad writing in games, and suddenly it doesnât matter. The game being fun is the only feature that matters, now that itâs convenient to dismiss anything that seemingly gets in the way of your enjoyment.
Even though it doesnât.
If Far Cry 5 were a film, people would be trampling over each other to repeat the criticsâ disregard of its milquetoast shotgun approach to writing, and lack of commitment to an actual point, despite advertising itself as any kind of satire.
Itâs not like having an actual statement is foreign to Far Cry either. Far Cry 2 had a well implemented theme of deterioration in every aspect; your characterâs health thanks to the malaria, the guns falling apart from being old, fire spreading wildly out of control.
Itâs not even necessarily a Ubisoft problem either.
Far Cry 3 was all about the lengths youâd go to for the people you care about, and how growing and changing as a person ends up alienating you from them anyway. There was also an underlying theme about there being no real winners in a setting so deeply seeded with violence.
Ending sucks too. Thatâs not a good transition, but itâs as good of one as it deserves, to be frank.
Itâs awful, but not because itâs unsatisfying and you donât get to technically win. Not every game needs to end on a positive note, just because you work for it. Spec Ops: The Line had some of my favorite gut-punch endings in a game.
But the takeaway is just bad, for either ending.
Either you walk away from Joseph at the end, and Jacobâs conditioning kicks in again, and you kill everyone you just saved, or randomly and completely out of bumbling nowhere, several nuclear warheads go off around the tristate area. And everyone you just saved dies in irradiated fire anyway.
Whatâs the takeaway here? That we should just let dangerous people get away with violent uprisings, because hey, who knows, they may actually have been right all along?
The nuclear ending especially is just bad writing. Itâs a twist out of left field meant to shock, and take you by surprise, but only because thereâs nothing to indicate itâs going to happen. Itâs trying, and failing, to ape the nuke scene from the first Modern Warfare game. But that scene was the dramatic release after an entire levelâs worth of building tension regarding the bomb which was mentioned earlier. Of which said established tension, thereâs simply none here.
Each region even caps off with you burning out the cultâs various bomb shelters. Only to find out, what? That you shouldâve given up and let them kill and maim and steal all they like, so you could huddle down next to them in their bunkers? All because some uninformed zealot who doesnât even sound like heâs actually looked at a bible lately made a lucky guess?
No thanks.
Instead of inspiring shock and awe, the ending feels random and nonsensical. Once again destroying any coherency the overall tone the game couldâve had. Is this supposed to be a fun, silly game to be enjoyed with a beer or a friend?Â
Or a serious and somber game where you face the deepest human fear of all: how people manage to justify overt acts of pure evil as âthe right thing?â
All in all, Far Cry 5 is like a cheap burger from a fast-food joint. The taste is fine and itâll tide you over, but itâs probably not very good for you. And you canât help but think about how much better it looks in the pictures on the menu.
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