I was pretty chuffed when I came home.
"Hey," I said, "I picked up the new Splinter Cell after work today."
"Cool," she says. "That's really nice. How long before you take this one back?"
She has a point. I have a rocky relationship with Sam Fisher. You'd think we'd get on like a house on fire, but really, we've only just about managed to see it halfway through once. I returned the first Splinter Cell in a fit of disgust after getting entirely fed up with its clunky controls and punitive goals. Pandora Tomorrow fared better; it wasn't until we got to Jerusalem that I gave up with the whole affair. Of course, there was the online multiplayer, too, but I arrived so late to the party on Live that it just wasn't worth it. All that was left were primarily ranked games, usually on Warehouse, in which I would be on the receiving end of a smackdown from a player several times better than me. When the new maps came out, I didn't purchase them, and that pretty much signified the useful end of Pandora Tomorrow for me.
"You might be surprised. I really think Chaos Theory could be the one, you know."
I really did. I'd been pleasantly surprised by the demo - mainly because the levels really were open-ended this time, rather than merely giving the illusion of being open-ended - and had heard great things about the co-op mode. And, of course, this time I would be on Live from the get-go, so I wouldn't be quite as disadvantaged as last time.
And, as I mentioned, objectively I ought to love these games.
Chaos Theory has proven to be easily the best of the bunch. It addresses one of the core problems I had with earlier Splinter Cell games most satisfactorily - namely, that they eventually devolved into being puzzle games. Each room was a level - you had to work out the way across without being detected. And if you failed, you loaded the checkpoint and tried again, and again, and again. If you discarded strategy in favour of trial and error, you were done for. Chaos Theory still has the feel of a tarted-up puzzle game, but it raises the bar by allowing for something its predecessors never did: adaptability.
It's one thing to claim a game is open-ended; this usually means there are multiple solutions to each problem. This was indeed true for Splinter Cell and Pandora Tomorrow; there were multiple approaches to most situations, thanks to Fisher's varied moveset. Unfortunately, if your chosen approach went wrong, you were usually forced to restart, either due to setting off an alarm, or being caught up in a close-range firefight. Chaos Theory does away with this problem by finally making Fisher as lethal at close range as at a distance. Previously, a missed shot would resort in a swathe of automatic gunfire, and at close range, Fisher wasn't much cop with his guns and so resorted to charging around, sniffing his armpits. The useless elbow-drop has been removed from Chaos Theory, and been replaced with a deadly knife, and much more dynamic knock-out moves. Some may say this makes the game easier; I say it makes the game a touch more believable (though not necessarily realistic). It keeps the game exciting but mangeable at close range. An example: a poorly placed flashbang didn't work as well as I'd hoped. By the time I'd charged into the room, I realised that the goons inside weren't as blind as I thought - but a couple of seconds getting busy with the knife soon put pay to that. Finally, Sam Fisher is as lethal at close range as you feel he ought to be.
The level design is also improved - though it was strong before. The levels are more organic than ever; they adapt to differing approaches, multiple routes - and seem to cater for an infinite, rather than finite, set of solutions. The designers have left enough options in the architecture and the gameplay to let you solve problems on your own terms. The second level, a container ship, is a superb example of this. Ships in games end up turning into either mazes (see the frigate in Goldeneye) or a linear series of corridors (see Metal Gear Solid 2). Chaos Theory's ship is neither: the architecture is memorable, it encourages exploration, and ultimately encourages passage from start to end (in this case, bow to stern) without ever railroading the player.
It's probably worth noting now that the traditional "new moves" added in this installment are actually usable more than a handful of times (previous offenders: the split jump in the first game, the SWAT roll in the second). By allowing inverted chokeholds and neckbreaks, silent kills - and, more usefully, non-lethal moves - are added to the repertoire whilst dangling. They're by no means necessary to complete the game, but they are a genuinely useful addition to the game. The ability to swap aiming arm is a very useful feature - full marks for such a simple but worthwhile addition.
There's not time to go into much else. The plot is disposable, ghost-written, below-par Clancy. The graphics engine - which I've surprisingly omitted - is staggering; the textures are particular beautiful. Its real success is that at points, it helps you forget you're playing a game and immerses you in the world for a few moments - long enough to concentrate on getting the job done. That's in many ways a greater achievement than any amount of normal mapping.
Amon Tobin's soundtrack is very good indeed, though it is a little more approachable than his usual output. The co-operative mode deserves an article of his own; suffice to say, if you have a friend who likes the concept of Splinter Cell, it's a must-buy. And the versus comes across as a tuned, refined, and more responsive version of Pandora Tomorrow's, so if you were a fan of that, you probably already own Chaos Theory.
If you're like me (and I feel many gamers are) and would love to enjoy the Splinter Cell games but find them entirely frustrating: seriously, give this one a go. It's more forgiving, more entertaining, and more game-y than the previous ones. It won't punish you for not being perfect, only for failing your mission. Like a fine wine, the Splinter Cell franchise is improving over time.
And if you were wondering, Sam and I see eye to eye better over a few things now. I think we are, anyhow. We're currently wandering around Displace International, though... and I get the feeling that another falling-out is only minutes away.
"Hey," I said, "I picked up the new Splinter Cell after work today."
"Cool," she says. "That's really nice. How long before you take this one back?"
She has a point. I have a rocky relationship with Sam Fisher. You'd think we'd get on like a house on fire, but really, we've only just about managed to see it halfway through once. I returned the first Splinter Cell in a fit of disgust after getting entirely fed up with its clunky controls and punitive goals. Pandora Tomorrow fared better; it wasn't until we got to Jerusalem that I gave up with the whole affair. Of course, there was the online multiplayer, too, but I arrived so late to the party on Live that it just wasn't worth it. All that was left were primarily ranked games, usually on Warehouse, in which I would be on the receiving end of a smackdown from a player several times better than me. When the new maps came out, I didn't purchase them, and that pretty much signified the useful end of Pandora Tomorrow for me.
"You might be surprised. I really think Chaos Theory could be the one, you know."
I really did. I'd been pleasantly surprised by the demo - mainly because the levels really were open-ended this time, rather than merely giving the illusion of being open-ended - and had heard great things about the co-op mode. And, of course, this time I would be on Live from the get-go, so I wouldn't be quite as disadvantaged as last time.
And, as I mentioned, objectively I ought to love these games.
Chaos Theory has proven to be easily the best of the bunch. It addresses one of the core problems I had with earlier Splinter Cell games most satisfactorily - namely, that they eventually devolved into being puzzle games. Each room was a level - you had to work out the way across without being detected. And if you failed, you loaded the checkpoint and tried again, and again, and again. If you discarded strategy in favour of trial and error, you were done for. Chaos Theory still has the feel of a tarted-up puzzle game, but it raises the bar by allowing for something its predecessors never did: adaptability.
It's one thing to claim a game is open-ended; this usually means there are multiple solutions to each problem. This was indeed true for Splinter Cell and Pandora Tomorrow; there were multiple approaches to most situations, thanks to Fisher's varied moveset. Unfortunately, if your chosen approach went wrong, you were usually forced to restart, either due to setting off an alarm, or being caught up in a close-range firefight. Chaos Theory does away with this problem by finally making Fisher as lethal at close range as at a distance. Previously, a missed shot would resort in a swathe of automatic gunfire, and at close range, Fisher wasn't much cop with his guns and so resorted to charging around, sniffing his armpits. The useless elbow-drop has been removed from Chaos Theory, and been replaced with a deadly knife, and much more dynamic knock-out moves. Some may say this makes the game easier; I say it makes the game a touch more believable (though not necessarily realistic). It keeps the game exciting but mangeable at close range. An example: a poorly placed flashbang didn't work as well as I'd hoped. By the time I'd charged into the room, I realised that the goons inside weren't as blind as I thought - but a couple of seconds getting busy with the knife soon put pay to that. Finally, Sam Fisher is as lethal at close range as you feel he ought to be.
The level design is also improved - though it was strong before. The levels are more organic than ever; they adapt to differing approaches, multiple routes - and seem to cater for an infinite, rather than finite, set of solutions. The designers have left enough options in the architecture and the gameplay to let you solve problems on your own terms. The second level, a container ship, is a superb example of this. Ships in games end up turning into either mazes (see the frigate in Goldeneye) or a linear series of corridors (see Metal Gear Solid 2). Chaos Theory's ship is neither: the architecture is memorable, it encourages exploration, and ultimately encourages passage from start to end (in this case, bow to stern) without ever railroading the player.
It's probably worth noting now that the traditional "new moves" added in this installment are actually usable more than a handful of times (previous offenders: the split jump in the first game, the SWAT roll in the second). By allowing inverted chokeholds and neckbreaks, silent kills - and, more usefully, non-lethal moves - are added to the repertoire whilst dangling. They're by no means necessary to complete the game, but they are a genuinely useful addition to the game. The ability to swap aiming arm is a very useful feature - full marks for such a simple but worthwhile addition.
There's not time to go into much else. The plot is disposable, ghost-written, below-par Clancy. The graphics engine - which I've surprisingly omitted - is staggering; the textures are particular beautiful. Its real success is that at points, it helps you forget you're playing a game and immerses you in the world for a few moments - long enough to concentrate on getting the job done. That's in many ways a greater achievement than any amount of normal mapping.
Amon Tobin's soundtrack is very good indeed, though it is a little more approachable than his usual output. The co-operative mode deserves an article of his own; suffice to say, if you have a friend who likes the concept of Splinter Cell, it's a must-buy. And the versus comes across as a tuned, refined, and more responsive version of Pandora Tomorrow's, so if you were a fan of that, you probably already own Chaos Theory.
If you're like me (and I feel many gamers are) and would love to enjoy the Splinter Cell games but find them entirely frustrating: seriously, give this one a go. It's more forgiving, more entertaining, and more game-y than the previous ones. It won't punish you for not being perfect, only for failing your mission. Like a fine wine, the Splinter Cell franchise is improving over time.
And if you were wondering, Sam and I see eye to eye better over a few things now. I think we are, anyhow. We're currently wandering around Displace International, though... and I get the feeling that another falling-out is only minutes away.
Comment