Shamefully satisfying. A concise and accurate summation of Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare's single player campaign. There's nothing particularly clever, elegant or enlightening about it - in fact, it's primarily predictable and overly clichéd - but it's a knowing and willing narrator who is in on the joke and happy to run with it.
By being so hackneyed and unbelievable it can get away with painting themes of war, genocide, political coups and destructively-focused bodily augmentations with brush strokes so broad that they border on the offensive. If this was anything more than a joke then the morality police would be readying their placards and brainstorming Twitter hashtags as we speak. Not even Hollywood has the brazenness, or the desire, perhaps, to create something quite this obnoxious.
And yet, it works. Shamefully satisfying. Everything is so overplayed that the overall experience is akin to white water rafting: running the gauntlet as one sensory excess after the next batters you stupid, no single moment lasting one enough for you to fully understand or digest it. Then, before you know it, it's all over. What's left is your exhausted, dribbling, ashen carcass with hands still fused to the controller in an impenetrable death grip of intoxication-through-exposure.
Breaking down the journey, however, examining and replaying it, highlights core components that simply don't work in isolation. It's quite amazing, then, that the sum of the parts here equates to something far greater than their individual qualities. Depending on your opinion of the Call of Duty series, you're likely to put that down to either luck or expert craftsmanship.
Frankly, the reason Hollywood wouldn't want to make something like this is because those elements that translate directly to film - narrative, script, acting, pacing - are all terrible. As a story, Advanced Warfare is a complete mess and doesn't come anywhere near to exploring the expansive world and conflicting ideologies that it consistently hints at. Put this into a cinema and people would laugh, either that or keep quiet out of embarrassment for the production team. Even those people that enjoyed Olympus Has Fallen would scoff
Kevin Spacey's role as CEO of mega-corporation Atlas has been much publicised and promoted in the pre-release marketing guff, but his performance here is as stale as his character's moniker. Jonathan Irons. Can you say 'focus testing'? Videogame actor extraordinaire Troy Baker appears in the lead role of predictable-protagonist-who-does-as-told, his lines of dialogue few and far between as screen time is given up to more explosive characters.
Performance capture translates Baker's face into the game, expressions and all. This should be a celebrated technological feat, but the impact is wholly negative. Baker is an actor that looks very much like an actor, his delicate good looks a mile away from the rugged, battle-scarred warrior he's supposed to be. I want to play this pantomime as a character that looks the part, I don't want to play at war as Troy Baker.
That face aside, the ridiculousness of it all feeds directly into your abilities as a soldier of the future and does enough to guide you through the madness that you're asked to confront with them. In 40 years time we can look forward to donning Exo Suits as shown here, external skeletons capable of dramatically increasing your strength, the height of your jumps and allowing you to fall from great heights - among other things. They're the Olympian's dream, put to use as a weapon of war.
The performance boost they offer is far beyond any steroid, though, the sensation of playing Advanced Warfare markedly more forceful than any Call of Duty since Modern Warfare at the height of its power. Here you don't feel like a mere grunt, you feel like a supreme being capable of dealing fantastic destruction on a whim.
Initial excitement at these abilities is muted by enemies that possess much of the same mechanical upgrades, forcing you to continue to play things fairly safe in those moments when you're not piloting a fighter jet, hovering tank or speedboat-turned-submarine. Sticking to cover is essential thanks to you being able to withstand only a few rounds, and picking off the most dangerous enemies first remains the best tactic.
Developer Sledgehammer has performed a brilliant balancing act by making you feel stronger, almost superhuman, but retaining a similar pacing to the most popular Call of Duty's of yesteryear. In contrast to the narrative, there's a pleasing subtly to the way you're tricked into thinking you're the next Robocop, while having you solve the same problems you've always faced. Someone, somewhere, probably said that pleasure is all in the mind. So much is true here.
That being said, use your mind too much then the illusion breaks and the cracks become chasms too wide to ignore. In the finest traditions of a blockbuster, Advanced Warfare is best served with only half of your brain engaged and a willingness to accept whatever nonsense comes hurtling towards you. It's an entertaining six-hour starter to the main course of multiplayer and the heightened levels of concentration and adaption that that requires.
I never want to play it again, but it was good while it lasted.
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