![]() ![]() I missed Los Santos when I shelved the original game at its conclusion-my attempt to kill all three idiot protagonists by starving them of attention. But the scrim of comedy fell heavily around Los Santos, putting air-quotes around a city that I felt was too alive, too aglow in its loping streets and strip malls, to be yanked into digs at reality TV or minutes-long riffs on hipsters.īecause, while I hated Grand Theft Auto 5, I loved Los Santos. The punchlines were spoken at the same volume as everything else, and so I was free to ignore them, sniffing out various ferns and dark alleyways instead, and inevitably cracking that stillness by braining some goon in slow-motion. Red Dead Redemption and particularly Max Payne 3 submerged the developers’ trademark humor into subversive riffs on genre tropes, as well as quieter, bleaker gallows humor. Rockstar had made such quantum leaps away from “class clown” territory in recent games. “Hate” is a strong way to describe something I bought on its first available day, canceled other plans to enjoy, beat within a week or so, and spent about 60 hours in slack-jawed amazement by-but “hate” is the only way I can describe the feeling that washed over my body when, as the game reached its operatic climax, I found myself tattooing a dick onto a man’s chest as a punishment. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |