Following my first viewing of Godzilla I left the cinema in a party of four (including myself) with a rather large grin on my face. Sadly, I was the only one. It was, without doubt, one of my favourite films of the last few years, ranking above The Wolf of Wall Street, Her, Django Unchained, The Master and even my beloved horror Cabin in the Woods. I couldn’t explain the intense joy the film rewarded me with anything other than defining it as childlike enthusiasm, but now I’d argue Godzilla achieved far more than that.
There’s an issue rising with the Assassin’s Creed game series. It’s been building up for a while now and, only recently, has it come to my attention. In fact, it begins with Assassin’s Creed III, the (confusingly) fifth console game in the series, and threatens to be perpetuated throughout the foreseeable future. We’ve seen it in Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag too, and may well see it in the Parisian sequel, Assassin’s Creed Unity. If (and it’s quite likely) that you’re not exactly aware of what it is I’m referring to yet, then let me make it very clear: the combat of Assassin’s Creed has lost its touch.
The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, or as it’s better known, The Lord of the Rings, stands out as Bethesda’s crowning achievement for several reasons; although I have already pointed out the elephant room (Bethesda riding the LOTR storm like a knight rides a stallion or Paris Hilton riding a… ignore that) so it’ll be far easier to get onto why Oblivion just is so good. And it IS so good. If you’ve ever been to the small sandwich shop just off of the North Bar in the small yorkshire town of Beverley called “Brownies and Blondies”, and from that shop purchased a Bacon, Brie and Real Ale chutney toastie, and upon your first bite fallen in love… with the sandwich, not the lovely lady who served it… then you’ll understand what it’s like to play The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.
This Christmas I was pleased to unwrap a Playstation 4 and three games for it; Killzone: Shadow Fall, Need for Speed: Rivals and err… Lego Marvel Superheroes. Later on I downloaded Warframe, Contrast and Resogun off the PSN store and used a code in my PS3 version of Assassin’s Creed 4: Black Flag to get the PS4 version. So I was swimming in games, basically.
Laurence had turned a disturbing shade of purple and raised from his chair; he was leaning on the table as if he were to hurl at any moment. But instead he rose his head and looked shakily into Richard’s eyes with angst having heard heeded every word of his despicable monologue. Richard wasted no time in striding forwards and forcing him back down onto the chair with a kick as graceful as it was brutal. As he did so, the firm heel of his shoe pushed out the insect which found itself accompanied by a wheezing gasp of air finally fleeing from the ribs.
Upon his recently tailored coat, the exterior of the right pocket to be precise, Richard noticed the bug, laced untidily in glistening saliva. He gritted his teeth and returned his gaze to Laurence who looked up at him, initially with a sheepish inadequacy, then a courageous anger. It did not persevere, however; Richard reached to his side, hoisted the wine by its neck and struck Laurence across his forehead.
As he stood there, breathing in the morning air uncomfortably, his mind wandered rather quickly away from what he had seen. A party would be appropriate, the town slumbers in monotony as the men and women stand in anticipation outside the gates, waiting for a word, and that word is… Enter! And when that word is said the men and women will flock to these grounds like ravenous vultures and they will prey on what is left for them. And there will be much that is left for them. Graciousness is appreciated, it is smiled upon here at this cold, unforgiving time. And I am sick of roaming a house where I am only accompanied by servants and ghosts.
It’s often been questioned whether it is quite possible that the dead should rise from the sea and walk among the living once more. As a man of science I take no interest in old wives’ tales, myths, legends, rumour and whatever lies are told around the fire after midnight. However, on that night that I found myself upon the island I was brought to the wonderment of what exactly was possible. I stood, my feet, my chest and my sunburnt face unprotected from the slashing winds sailing in from the rushing seas, I could have cried out for mercy, an end to this weekend of torturous horror, but it would have been for naught.