F.E.A.R. (First Encounter Assault and Recon) arrived on Wednesday, and I finished it a few hours ago. You tell yourself it's only a game, but the goosebumps won't go away. Nightmares fade, only to horrifyingly reveal themselves as reality. The storyline's development is dizzying and heartbreaking -- has a game ever succeeded in making me feel sadness before? Or pity mixed with loathing, or dread of the unknown? Triumph, a more commonly aroused emotion, abounds as greatly as in any game I've ever played, and F.E.A.R. could excel solely through its insanely nuanced, intense, and visceral combat, its oppressively atmospheric settings (I was strongly reminded of Die Hard by floor-to-floor combat in the sterile Armacham offices, which is entirely a good thing), and the perfect conjunction of music with events, but what wins this game a place of wonder is the way in which the final plot elements crash into place.
Before F.E.A.R. arrived, I'd been playing Star Control II, a thoughtful, humorous, addictive and apparently still-popular oldie, but I think my expectations of a game's immersive qualities have been temporarily boosted to generally unreasonable levels.
Classes continue much as before, with Latin still far superior. Spring registration starts tomorrow morning! So I should probably end this post, now that I've made the cursory reflection on things not related to awesome games.
posted on Saturday, November 05, 2005
|
|
