No animals were hurt in the making of this masterpiece. Except really nasty ones!
Beyond Good And Evil (Ubisoft)
By the end of Beyond Good And Evil, you probably won't go near a bacon sarnie again. That succulent, sizzling sound will no longer have you drooling and lunging for the HP. It will have you mourning. You'll know a good pig will have died for your sandwich. A good pig like Pey'J.
He's a mechanic, overweight inventor of the rocket boot, and just one of the dozens upon dozens of gorgeously realised characters and folks that inhabit Beyond Good & Evil. We're talking Star Wars: KOTOR done by the Muppets and then some.
Conjured from the mind of Rayman creator Michael Ancel, it's easy to see where his influences have touched aspects of the game. From the lush, blossoming countryside to the rounded, soft-edged machinery of planet Hyllis, every nook and cranny is kissed with the kind of aesthetic brilliance you'll see duplicated in lesser games a few years from now. The world of Hyllis is stunning. Lighting, landscape models, NPCs, physics, level design, the lack of draw distance or fogging, and the sheer visual indulgence ladled out by the design team have clearly paid dividends. It begs you to play it. But that's just the glitzy surface, for under the sheen and beauty of Hyllis and its programming loveliness runs a far darker current. The story is where the real pizzazz can be found. If you think a lot of attention has been paid to the icing, wait until you get a bite of the cake. Pey'J's niece, Jade, is a photo journalist, parttime lighthouse keeper, and your playable character. You scratch a living taking photos of wildlife for the science institute. The game will encourage you to take pictures of creatures for extra cash - some will happily pose for you; others you'll have to entice out or sneak up on. This hobby draws you to an underground resistance movement who believe that the war raging on Hyllis is manufactured, a game played out to keep civilians subservient, and the rich in power. The movement send you on missions to take photos of the illegal shenanigans the corporations indulge in, from which they can build support for an uprising. And all this without a grenade or gun in sight. It's so refreshing you could guzzle it down until you burst like a water bomb.
Many of the areas you need to infiltrate require thoughtful planning, teamwork with Pey'J, clobbering corporate types with your kendo staff, and keeping your peepers peeled for financially rewarding beasties. The camera is your main weapon, and it's exceptionally simple to use. A few clicks on the joypad and you'll have potentially captured enough info to bring the corrupt to their knees and have earned enough money to buy a better zoom lens - it's a godsend. The zoom compensates for close-proximity encounters, which are the only noticeable flaw in the game. The game camera is either too erratic or never moves at all, especially close to walls and objects. At times this leaves you guessing where exactly it is you're heading and sometimes sees you stumble into guards. Thankfully the combat more than offsets the problem, although the less-than-dazzling enemy
AI might be lending a hand too. Pey'J can also be summoned to your aid by ordering him to perform simple commands. He'll stun the bad guys or trip a switch while you finish them off or run. Regardless of the tiny combat problems, this is a small aspect to a diverse and delicious game, the heart of which isn't about violence, but about story, subterfuge, script and character. It's about breaking and entering for the good of all, it's about bartering with Rastafarian rhinos or Chinese restaurant-owning walruses over the price of power boosters or smuggled pearls. It's about being on the frontline in the face of danger and unpicking a global threat from within rather than blowing it up from outside.
It's crafty, it's clever, it's populated by disgruntled resistance sympathisers who happen to be cows, and you'll never want it to end. A thing of beastly beauty you must not miss.