then they'd probably come down into the pipes and get you as well. does too, although if it was a level out of F.E.A.R. Do you remember that bit in Surface Tension when you were scurrying about in pipes below an area packed with marines and gullies, with multiple ways up into the action? The way you'd listen to the sound of footsteps, and the way that you never knew who was where, or where the next grenade was coming from? That's what F.E.A.R. Y'see, F.E.A.R.'s enemy Al is a much belated next step from Half-Life's marines -and a very welcome one at that. So why is the combat so special? Monolith has followed up a trick once played in 1997 and barely touched since. It's hardly something you'd watch on Panorama. Although clearlyÄon't mean real reality, since by and large you're fighting in slow-motion against an army of leather-clad drones, psychically commanded by a disturbed gentleman called Paxton Fettel who regularly dines on the flesh of the innocent. excels - presenting you with many, many bloody and brutal skirmishes that are imbued with a sense of real weight, grit and reality. Satisfaction through combat is where F.E.A.R. And thankfully there's rather a lot of it. Why so? Well, we don't do that bit yet - tradition dictates that we tackle the good stuff first. being awarded a Classic award lias not been as crystal clear and carefree as I would have liked.
But, to answer your questions before the ritual waffling and prevaricating commences: a) yes the little girl shits you up good, b) yes this is an amazing game, and unfortunately c) no, the path to F.E.A.R. Moments that go beyond the threshold of the 'very good' and swerve dangerously towards some of the most visceral and satisfying enjoyment that you can physically and emotionally have with the haunted box that is the modern PC. There are a multitude of moments like this in F.E.A.R. Massive chunks of masonry are ripped out of the ceiling with every bullet, and he becomes some sort of unholy Catherine wheel tumbling through space. Thrown off his feet, he cartwheels through 360-degrees as the slow-motion prolongs his untimely demise - while, with either his last energies or unconscious twitch, he sgueezes the trigger on his machine gun while soulfully twirling through the air. I Turn a corner, slap on the heightened senses and blast a surprised leather-clad drone in the kneecap.