An obstinate zombie stomper that put you on a clock and demanded replays. Dead Rising's joy came in its tangents, mistakes, and wild tonal shifts. It presented itself as a game made specifically for American tastes, whilst taking endless pot-shots at the consumer culture that drives that country. Assigned a shlubby reporter and stranded in a mall seething with the undead, players were left to their own devices. This was a generation shift measured in volume. Dozens of on-screen characters and umpteen items scurried away to bash them with. Players could pursue a conspiracy, leading to an after-action mode, or dress themselves up as Mega Man whilst cracking zombies over the head with luminescent bowling balls. Your call.
No comments:
Post a Comment