Folklore (PS3)

They won't be singing songs about this one in the mountains.
1/31/2008 12:00 AM | 0 Comments | Page 2 of 2

These third-person battles are reminiscent of those found in God of War or Devil May Cry. You enter a discrete arena. Enemies swarm you. You defeat them. You move along.

Yet Folklore's showdowns never quite achieve the same degree of kinetic satisfaction that God of War and Devil May Cry have achieved. They're slower-paced affairs, punctuated by moments of frustration when the game's uncooperative camera leaves you open to blindsided attacks. And while some of the enemies are truly memorable -- the Muppet-like Bargest comes to mind -- many of them are indistinguishable from one another, and as a result, the battles wind up being minor annoyances and nothing else. I never felt a sense of eagerness whenever I entered a new arena and encountered a new set of enemies. My only thought was, Oh christ, not these guys again.

The game's grostesque yet cutesy aesthetic is one part Tim Burton, two parts 'The Wizard of Oz,' with just a dash of Maurice Sendak added for seasoning. Instead of the cheese rock or faux orchestral scores to which we're more accustomed, gameplay is often accompanied by carnival-like "oompahs." Enemies seemed to enjoy dancing around me as much as they enjoyed attacking me.

The game's storyline clumsily deals with morbid subject matter, including death, suicide and insanity. If you're looking for a game to cheer you on a gray day, this isn't it. It's all very grim and gleeful at the same time.

But the main problem with Folklore -- and it's a problem that makes it virtually unplayable -- is that it's so poorly paced. It gets off to one of the worst starts of any game in recent memory. The first hour is full of starts and stops, pointless (and badly written) dialogue, and load screens followed by more load screens. I'd walk 10 paces, thinking to myself, OK, now things are really going to start cooking, only to trigger another load screen, followed by another bit of stale dialogue, followed by another cut scene, followed by yet another load screen, etc.

Make no mistake, there are sound ideas here -- but the whole operation feels starched and constipated. Each time Folklore feels like it's about to take flight or loosen up a little and find its stride, it lays another 20 minutes of exposition on me about which I could care less and grinds to another fun-killing halt.

Verdict: Torch it.

This review was based on a retail copy of the game provided by the publisher.