Need for Speed Undercover (Xbox 360)
Electronic Arts tries to sell you a lemon, and then keeps bugging you for money
12/1/2008 7:34 PM | 0 Comments | Page 1 of 3
What's Hot: None worth mentioning
What's Not: Built around micropayments; Terrible graphics; Terrible driving model; Terrible cut scenes
Who on earth is this terrible game supposed to be for? The target audience certainly isn't gamers with next-generation systems whose frame of reference will be titles like
Burnout Paradise,
MotorStorm and the superlative
Midnight Club: Los Angeles. They'll laugh at the lifeless streets, bad driving, dated multiplatform graphics and pathetic attempt at a storyline in
Need for Speed Undercover. Maybe it's for fans of car culture who've never seen a videogame. Those are pretty much the only people who won't be dismayed at having shelled out money to buy this sorry excuse for a multiplatform driving game.
Ready for its close-up
Undercover's angle is shallow enough that this one should skip right across the water into the bargain bins on the way to oblivion. You play a nameless and literally faceless protagonist working on behalf of minor celebrity Maggie Q. Miss Q, along with a pair of high heels and a tight dress suit, plays a law enforcement agent filmed with multiple cameras from laughably tight angles. Here is Maggie Q's eyebrow, here is her ankle, here is the back of her head, here is -- My god, what is that? Oh, it's her elbow -- here is the swoop of her waist, and now here's a race for you to drive.
Welcome to Generic City, USA ... err, I mean, Tri-City Bay.
There are also various "actors" (i.e., attractive people who may or may not be talented, but you'd never know given the material they're working from) playing the criminals, the corrupt former cop, the love interest, the rival and so on. If only "The Fast and the Furious" had known what it was going to get us into. A car culture yarn with Vin Diesel and Paul Walker seemed harmless enough at the time. At least
Midnight Club: Los Angeles, which is like Robert Altman in comparison to
Need for Speed Undercover, doesn't take itself seriously.
"Yeah, yeah," you're saying, "but how's the driving, Tom? This isn't a movie, you know." To which I reply, yes, I know it's not a movie and you know it's not a movie, but someone should clue in EA. Tripe like this and
Command & Conquer: Red Alert 3 are doing more to set back the viability of live-action footage than the entire decade of horrible FMV games in the 90s. If you're going to write a story, hire actors, and shoot footage, rise to the occasion. Quit it with this stuff in which the camera is the perspective of the mute protagonist (which is particularly tricky when you're shooting from three or four different camera angles). It barely works in a videogame, and it certainly doesn't work with live-action cut scenes. Either get some material to go with the resources you're squandering -- actors, sets, a willing audience -- or don't bother trying.
When the rubber hits the road
This is as close as
Need for Speed Undercover gets to a traffic jam.
Okay, enough of that. You're here for the driving. Sadly, it isn't any better than the storytelling. Driving feels like it's on rails, scripted to go forward with no regard for any real-world dynamics that might get in the way. You get canned drifting, glancing blows instead of collisions, and no sense of weight. Most of the challenges are races of varying flavor, usually along unconvincing city streets. Circuit races travel along closed-off paths, sprints are more open affairs, and highway battles are challenges to navigate light traffic well enough to pull ahead of the competition. There are also police encounters that bring out the worst in
Undercover, showcasing how poorly this world handles anything but moving forward unobstructed. Once suicidal police cars start trying to ram you, they might as well try to ram the game itself. The idea is that here, all the rules are suspended and road hell will be unleashed. But this game isn't in any state to unleash anything. It's too buttoned down by its own limits.