REVIEW: Bulletstorm
[Alright, so check it. This review is by The Faux Bot and originally written for Mad Gear Solid. When I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to finish the game in time, I asked him if he’d want to syndicate his shit. He said yes. Faux Bot is a genius, scholar, and friend of the site. He’s also funnier than me, and Mad Gear Solid is our spiritual twin from over on the other site of the pond. So go to fucking Mad Gear Solid, or die by a flaming sword draped in profanity and hate.]
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Here is a list of some words that make me think of Bulletstorm; squelch, slam, gush, firework, meat, erupt, anal, cavity, spurt, squish, rupture, forced, insertion, sack, giblets, cram, innards, gullet, crunch, drill, impale, tear, bore, flesh, sever, penetrate. These are but a few, however, they perfectly illustrate the amusing meta-game that I’ve created inside my juvenile mind. I like to re-arrange the words as you would with those amusing novelty fridge magnets —you know the kind- so that I can make deliciously witty and outrageous phrases that help me to decide on how to orchestrate my upcoming blood-bath.FORCIBLY INSERT ANAL DRILL and it’s done.
Now, I’m not insisting that you play along with my infantile creation, but, should you chose to do so, I guarantee you a richer, more rewarding festival of brutality. Bulletstorm revels in the notion of creative destruction- a little known sub-genre of entertainment usually reserved for bored demolition men.‘John, that building has to come down mate, you know what to do’ John, after several years tearing down buildings in the time-honoured fashion, decides to rig paint canisters to the charges this time and comically arranges them into a pattern resembling an erect male member. Thousands are entertained, and more importantly, John saves himself from a life of eternal monotony.
Bulletstorm SQUELCH INNARDS SACK is the antidote to another type of monotony. Tired of playing army men and gushing over television news influenced modern warfare shooters, I’ve become bitter, jaded even: searching for a shooter with a pace and intensity that would satisfy my refined bloodlust. It has arrived. Now, I’m not decrying the death of ‘realistic’ shooters, nor am I condemning them, what I am saying is that Bulletstorm heralds a return to form for a genre that was once at the top of my list of priorities. It recalls the golden days of machismo and phallic imagery: perfect for us kids raised on a diet of Doom and Duke.
Beneath the frat boy humour and torrent of fluids lies Bulletstorm’s key mechanic — the Skillshot system. Entrusting you with an electric leash and an almighty boot you are expected to combine your entire skillset with variety and ingenuity to rack up kill-streaks and stylish combos. Enemies can be leashed towards you, kicked away, ‘thumped’ into the air and impaled onto just about anything that looks remotely sharp. Add into this mix a handful of cock-emulating weaponry all replete with alternate firing modes and you have yourself the ultimate anarchists’ tool set.
Guiding renegade Space Pirate Grayson Hunt SLAM MEAT PENETRATE GIBLETS is a pleasure from start to finish. Hefty, strong and agile — he handles with just the right balance between grunt and ballerina to comfortably carry off the Skillshot system. Slide-kicking, grenade-gagging and distributing anal rockets will quickly become second nature as you indulge in an almighty and surprisingly varied orgy of death. I think there’s a story in there too — something about revenge and redemption. Standard stuff, but well-acted and punchy enough to stop me yawning between the killing.
Bulletstorm’s weakest moments occur when it begins to conform — doling out a few uninspired boss battles and serving up the kind of Hollywood spectacle that modern shooter fans have come to expect. However, as tools for breaking up the pace and providing variety go, they could have been far worse. At the very least, they’ll leave you itching to re-commence impaling savages and exploding giant anal zits.
After you’ve wrapped up the story and decided on whether or not it was worth paying any attention to, you’ll have opened the door to Echoes mode BORE CAVITY CRAM FIREWORK. Echoes are chosen segments of the campaign mode, divided up into individual levels designed for practised displays of skill and speed. Recalling the golden days of two minute Tony Hawk runs, Echoes assesses your score based upon speed, variety and style: encouraging you to make the most of each weapon and your environment. Playing through these shows the game’s strengths in a new light, as you slowly realise that the beautifully rendered and surprisingly colourful environments are comprised of more than mere scenery.
Whether or not you’ll love Bulletstorm is an answer that lies in your own heart, or perhaps more appropriately, in your balls. If you’re happy using your erect penis as a means to express yourself, then it’s for you. If you’re happy to re-name it Bonerstorm and loudly proclaim it so in public, then it’s for you. Thinking and Bonerstorm do not go hand-in-hand: it’s the game Bart Simpson would have made if EA allowed him to run the show back in the 90’s. It’s a rallying cry to those who find themselves nostalgic for the comical gore of Mortal Kombat or Carmageddon or anyone who simply wants to fire a drill up one man’s anus and then have it attach to another’s head: creating a conjoined twin of depravity and pre-pubescent humour.
It’s the kind of game that makes me want to drop terms like ‘dick-throbbing’ entirely out of context, encourage kids to drink ‘til they puke before the real world hits them and take a shit in a cistern tank at a house party. It’s crass, it’s vulgar, it’s unashamedly macho and it’s juvenile. I love it so.