1355: Impending Lie-In

Good golly gosh, I'm knackered.

This is at least partly due to the fact that I didn't really have a weekend last weekend. (Actually, there's no "really" about it; I flat-out didn't have a weekend last weekend, since although Eurogamer Expo was enjoyable, I still had to work through it, and also had to overcome my not-inconsiderable social anxiety in order to actually, you know, talk to developers and stuff. I think I did fairly admirably, all things considered.)

Anyway. Consequently, I am looking forward to having a weekend this weekend, and the first thing I shall be doing with said weekend is having a lie-in. I've been waking up relatively late each morning this week and desperately wanting a lie-in — in some cases even dropping off until about half an hour before I need to start work (which, fortunately, as you probably know, involves walking from my bed to my study, and I don't even have to put on pants if I don't want to) — and not being able to have it. But tomorrow morning, I can have a lie-in, and it will be glorious.

Except going on recent past experience, the opportunity to actually have a lie-in is usually a signal for my body to wake up promptly at 7am and be unable to get back to sleep. This is infuriating when it happens, because any hope of catching up on sleep is then completely ruined. Of course, it's often quite nice to deliberately wake up early and have considerably more hours available in the day than usual, but come on. It's the weekend. I want to lie in bed and not move for more hours than I'm normally able to, then get up, have a bacon sandwich (or similarly greasy equivalent) and do nothing of any value for the remainder of the day.

Ah well. We'll see how it goes tomorrow morning. Perhaps I'll play some Sweet Fuse until the early hours and see if that will lull me into a deep sleep filled with bishounen.

(Speaking of Sweet Fuse, I'm still enjoying it a great deal. What a silly game. I'm glad it exists. If you'd have told me ten years ago that one day I'd be playing a game in which I took on the role of Mega Man creator Keiji Inafune's niece as she wandered around a theme park that had been taken over by a pig-like terrorist, I would have probably laughed in your face. I have since learned, of course, that anything goes in gaming, and when you take into account the possibilities of less interactive genres such as visual novels, you really can tackle pretty much any subject matter as a "game". But that, as ever, is a discussion for another day, I feel; time to head bedwards for me — Saki Inafune and her harem of gentlemen friends is awaiting me.)

1354: GTA is More Fun with Friends

I'm not talking about Grand Theft Auto Online, either, which is, so far as I can make out, still a predictably shambolic mess after throwing its doors open to the public earlier this week. No, I'm talking about that peculiar joy you get from playing a game made for… well, play… with someone else.

To put this in some sort of context, allow me to explain. I played through Grand Theft Auto V and enjoyed it. I liked the characters, I found the story enjoyable and the gameplay entertaining enough to keep going after the credits rolled. Can't ask for more, really.

Except this evening my good friend Sam came over and we played together. Sam and I used to play Grand Theft Auto III and Vice City together when we were at university, usually drunk. (We'd play Grand Theft Auto drunk, not we were usually drunk at university. Though we were drunk quite a lot at university.) Since going our separate ways and entering what careers advisors insist on calling "the world of work", though, the only games we've really played together have been things specifically designed for group play with structured rules — things like board games and the like. I thought it would be interesting to see if GTAV would recapture the magic of the previous games, so I invited Sam over this evening primarily to play it, and if it didn't, well, there's a shelf full of board games to play instead.

Fortunately, GTAV very much has the old magic. In several hours of play, we didn't do a single structured piece of content in the game — no missions, no races, no Flight School, nothing. Instead, we'd set largely improvised challenges and then attempt to complete them. First up, we wanted to get to the Los Santos airport and successfully steal a plane — something we'd regularly try to do in GTAIII — without getting shot to pieces by the police who were summoned the moment you step on the runway. Eventually we managed that, so we turned our attention to the enormous Mount Chiliad, the peak that dominates the north end of the map. First we tried to fly a plane over the top of it and parachute onto the summit. Having successfully accomplished that (once — never again after that) we discovered a pair of dirt bikes near the top, and a conveniently-placed jump ramp nearby.

After an unsuccessful attempt to make the jump that ended in the unfortunate demise of poor Trevor, we tried to get back on top of the mountain — firstly by parachuting again, then by driving and finally by walking. All of these attempts ended in failure — my parachuting concluded prematurely when I failed to realise that leaping out of a plane at a couple of hundred knots would cause you to go flying at a couple of hundred knots, too, and ended up plastering myself all over the site of the mountain; driving up the mountain was stymied by the fact that most vehicles can't drive up near-vertical rock walls (though driving the front of a big rig past some very surprised hikers was enormously entertaining while it lasted); walking up the mountain concluded after several "trip-and-fall" incidents that saw Trevor rolling part of the way down the mountain, with the last fall being a big one that brought his life once again to a premature end.

I haven't laughed so much at a game for ages. GTAV still has the magic.

1353: Criminology

I watched my first ever episode of CSI today. Or CSI: Miami, to be exact, since the original CSI isn't on Netflix as far as I can make out.

I enjoyed it! It reminds me how much I do enjoy police procedurals and crime thrillers — yes, even the cheesy, stupid, unrealistic ones — when I watch them, yet it's pretty rare I'll actually seek them out. It's one of those things that I forget I like, if that makes sense, and I'll just occasionally stumble across the, and remember all over again.

As with many forms of non-interactive media, I find myself thinking that there should be more procedural games. Trauma Team on Wii was a great example — particularly from the crime scene investigation angle — plus the Ace Attorney series has always provided a neat combination of private detective-style investigation and courtroom drama. I'd like to see more of that kind of thing.

There's the Police Quest series, of course, which I'm still yet to try, though those have the dubious distinction of being Sierra adventures (i.e. already brutally difficult, and not necessarily in a fair way) that are notoriously finicky about you actually following police procedure to the letter. There's nothing wrong with this, of course — how many other "police sims" are there out there? — but it doesn't necessarily push exactly the same buttons as a police procedural drama on TV.

I'm surprised that over the years we haven't seen more games branching out into popular TV genres. We've done sci-fi and fantasy to death, obviously, because both of those are eminently compatible with the most common means through which we interact with a game world: attacking it. We've also seen crime drama through the eyes of the criminals a lot thanks to titles like Grand Theft Auto and Saints Row. But what we haven't seen a lot of is a game about being a doctor, or a policeman, or a lawyer, or a journalist. I remember having a conversation with fellow Squadron of Shame members a while back about how cool it would be to play a war-themed game in which you weren't one of the American soldiers on the scene, but instead an embedded war reporter tasked with covering the conflict from the front lines. Plenty of scope for interesting storytelling there, plus gameplay that doesn't involve shooting people with a different skin colour to your character.

We could even expand that, though. Sci-fi and fantasy games don't have to be about killing, either; how about a sci-fi "future police" game? Or a "future medicine" game? (I guess that's Trauma Center, but still.) Or a game where you play a member of the Watch in a typical fantasy city? Plenty of scope for interesting things, and yet — at least in the mainstream — we still rely on the same old stuff.

Ah well. The times are a-changin', and we are starting to get more and more interesting thematic content in our games that isn't just about stabbing and shooting. I just wish there was a bit more.

1352: Critical Urgency

I can't remember if I've talked about Velocity here before, so here I am talking about Velocity.

Velocity, in case you've never come across it before, is a game from the Brighton-based indie developer FuturLab. It began its life as a PlayStation Minis title for PS3 and PSP, then was subsequently ported to Vita with numerous enhancements as Velocity Ultra. So positive was the reception to the first game, it seems, that the team at FuturLab is currently in the process of putting together a sequel — a sequel that's looking rather fab, if the early version I had the good fortune to play at the recent <a href="http://www.usgamer.net/articles/egx-turning-up-the-velocity" target="_blank">Eurogamer Expo</a> is anything to go by.

But I want to talk about the original today, or rather Velocity Ultra. I reviewed Velocity Ultra a while back for USgamer and enjoyed it a lot, but I must confess that in the process of reviewing it, I didn't make it through every little bit of content it had to offer — largely because doing so would have taken significantly longer than I had time for, and also because I'd already seen a lot of it in Velocity's previous incarnation as a PlayStation Minis title.

I've been going back to clean up what I missed in the game recently, though, and I'm reminded of what a fantastic game it is. Beginning as what appears to be a relatively straightforward top-down shooter, the game gradually evolves, changes and grows in complexity as it progresses; firstly, you get the ability to teleport over short distances (including through walls); then you get the ability to drop telepods at strategic points in the level in order to teleport over long distances and take alternative routes. By the time you get through all 50 of the game's main levels, you're practically playing a different game.

Things are mixed up along the way, too. Sometimes you'll have levels that are filled with enemies; other times they'll be complex maps with multiple paths. Other times still you'll have a very tight time limit and have to get through as quickly as possible. Different types of level require different strategies.

Where the truly addictive gameplay in Velocity comes in, though, is medal-chasing. Upon completion of a level, you're ranked according to how many survivors you rescued, how many points you scored and how quickly you successfully completed the level. Attain the highest accolade in all of these categories without dying once and you'll earn a "perfect" medal, and it's chasing these "perfects" that is so ridiculously addictive. The reason for this is that the difficulty of achieving the goals is pitched just perfectly; it's always just tantalisingly out of reach rather than seemingly impossible. Pretty much anyone with a good handle on the mechanics will be able to attain at least a few Perfects along the way, though it does get significantly more difficult as the levels become more complex.

And then there are the secret levels. Secret levels! I can't remember the last modern game I played that had secret levels, and yet here they are in Velocity, unlocked through getting your tiny Quarp Jet into places you wouldn't normally expect it to go, usually as a result of checking the map and spotting something out of place. There are a further 20 secret levels on top of the 50 main levels, and not all of them use the standard game mechanics. There's a 10-level Thrust-inspired minigame, for example; there's a twist on FuturLab's earlier game Coconut Dodge; there's even a version of Snake. Successfully contend with all those and you have the incredibly challenging but rewarding and addictive "Red Zone" and "Blue Zone" levels in which time limits are tight, the pathways tighter and the slightest clipping of a wall will destroy you.

I was delighted that the upcoming Velocity 2X felt so much like the first Velocity when I played it at Eurogamer Expo — and particularly pleased that the brand new sections where you get out of your ship and run around for some platforming sections make use of pretty much the same mechanics, with the only real difference being that you're now affected by gravity. I'm really looking forward to playing the sequel, but in the meantime, I've got a whole bunch of Perfect medals to try and attain, so if you'll excuse me I'm going to challenge a few more before I go to sleep.

1350: Open-World Ridiculosity

As you'll know if you've been reading recently, I finished Grand Theft Auto V the other day, and have approximately 75% on the completion-o-meter. Once I got back from Eurogamer Expo today, I thought I'd fire it up and specifically piss around in the open world rather than doing anything structured. (Okay, I cleaned up a couple of Strangers and Freaks missions, but aside from that… yeah.)

I'm pleased to confirm that Grand Theft Auto V's open-world freeform silliness is possibly the best it's ever been. In about an hour or two of play, I tripped over and rolled all the way down a mountain without dying; had a police shootout at a truck stop (where I did die, sadly); successfully landed on the roof of a car park at the airport by using a billboard as a jump ramp; successfully leapt onto a passing train (and then fell off while attempting to climb down and hijack it); inadvertently attracted the attention of the police and decided to run up the steepest face of a mountain, surviving quite a while and single-handedly taking down six helicopters before finally tripping over, rolling all the way down the mountain and failing to survive this time; cycled all the way from one end of the map to the other; and a few other things besides.

I'm happy that the idea of "I wonder if I can do that?" has survived intact from Grand Theft Auto III; many was the night back in university when drunken incarnations of me and my friend Sam would get home after a cheap night at Poundstretcher or Lennon's and cause chaos in Liberty City until the small hours. It's a concept that I haven't felt nearly as strongly in the more recent Grand Theft Auto titles, though I don't doubt it's there.

And it's a different feeling to Saints Row's open-world mayhem. Saints Row is very much a map with Things to Do scattered across it, clearly signposted for your reference. Grand Theft Auto, meanwhile — particularly in V's case — provides you with a map filled with cool and interesting stuff, but doesn't signpost a significant amount of it. It's not all "activities", either, in GTA's case; in some instances, it's just breathtaking views, or impressively detailed locales, or the location of a hidden vehicle.

Both approaches very much have a place in modern gaming culture, but it should be evident that Saints Row and Grand Theft Auto are not the same game, and have not been for a very long time. In the case of Saints Row IV in particular, the two have diverged sufficiently to pretty much be different genres; Saints Row IV is now an open-world superhero game, while Grand Theft Auto V is a more realistic (albeit skewed) look at modern society. Saints Row is self-consciously kooky, silly and funny; Grand Theft Auto's humour can be just as obvious, but it's not pushed to the forefront of the experience in the same way as it is in Saints Row; it's just part of the experience.

This isn't to say that either approach is "wrong," of course; I've played both games and really enjoyed them both. The difference is that after I finished Saints Row IV's story I didn't really feel the need to continue exploring the open world — over a thousand collectible items is just too many, yo — whereas this evening I was actually quite excited and interested to be able to zip around GTA V's world without the pressure of story missions or other external influences getting in the way.

And then, of course, there's all this, but that's something to explore if and when I ever reach 100% completion…

1347: Om Nom Nom Nom (Plus)

Pac-Man Championship Edition DX+ is a magnificent game, though I'm still at a loss as to whether or not Namco are taking the piss with that title or if they genuinely thought Pac-Man needed that many suffixes.

To be fair, though, Pac-Man CE DX+, as I shall refer to it from hereon, isn't actually all that unreasonable a title if you analyse it. It's a variation of Pac-Man (hence Pac-Man) that evolved into a version designed specifically for competitive play (hence Championship Edition) that subsequently evolved further into a considerably expanded version (hence DX, short for Deluxe) which was then expanded even further with some additional content for the new PC version (hence Plus).

If you haven't played Pac-Man CE DX+ yet, you'll be pleased to know that it's now available for PC via Steam as well as consoles, so you can play it pretty much regardless of whatever system you favour.

If you're a fan of the original Pac-Man, be warned, though; Pac-Man CE DX+ is a noticeably different game, though its ancestry is obvious.

While the original Pac-Man required you to repeatedly clear the same screen of dots over and over again while contending with the unwanted attentions of four ghosts, Pac-Man CE DX+ is a much faster-paced game. The maze is divided into two halves, each of which, when cleared, causes a piece of fruit to appear in the other half. Eating said fruit causes the empty maze to regenerate with a new layout, and thus the process repeats. In the main modes, you're against the clock, attempting to score as many points as possible in either five or ten minutes, so it's in your interest to find the quickest routes possible.

The twist on the formula that DX added was the ridiculous number of ghosts that can be involved. Rather than the four ghosts of the original Pac-Man, each maze half in Pac-Man CE DX+ has a number of sleeping ghosts who are disturbed if Pac-Man passes by them, at which point they form an increasingly long chain and chase him, following the same route he does. High scores are dependent on eating a power pill and then gobbling up a massive chain of ghosts, so as well as finding the best route through the dots, it's actually in your interests to attract as many ghosts in your wake as possible, too. There's very much an "optimum route" for each of the courses in the game, though human error means that, unless you've practiced enough to be literally perfect every time, there'll be slight variations in each run you make — usually costing you a few points or precious seconds in the process.

It's a really interesting game that maintains the basic mechanics of the original Pac-Man while simultaneously turning it into a kind of game that's hard to define. Is it a score attack game? Yes. Is it a puzzle game? Yes. Is it a racing game? Yes, kind of.

It's one of the most peculiar games I've ever played, and revisiting it thanks to the new PC version reminds me that it's also one of my favourite games of all time, and I highly recommend you give it a try if you've never had the pleasure. Enjoy, and I make absolutely no apologies if you end up addicted.

1345: A Grand Old Time

I'll probably write something in more depth over on USgamer tomorrow, but I wanted to give some immediate reactions to having just finished Grand Theft Auto V.

Short version: I was extremely impressed. I was expecting to just duck into it for a little while in order to be able to write about it during its launch week, but I found myself hooked in various ways: the story, the world, the characters. The whole thing is put together in such a marvellously coherent way that it just works really well — and I barely even touched all the largely irrelevant side stuff.

GTA V has drawn a bunch of flak for various reasons, but from what I can tell, it's business as usual in GTA-land. In fact, GTA V nails the balance between biting satire and straight-up drama better than any previous installment in the series — there's always been a certain dissonance between the fact that you can freely whip out a rocket launcher and start blowing shit up and the actual linear story that Rockstar is trying to tell.

The interesting thing about GTA V is that a lot of its most "offensive" stuff is down to the player. The notorious "shag a prostitute then run her over to get your money back" thing that people always fixate on? That was emergent player behaviour that people discovered in Grand Theft Auto III. Murderous rampages? You're free to commit them any time you see fit, but there will be consequences — some people will shoot back, other times, you'll attract the attention of the police. The story and all the bad things you commit in the name of the ongoing narrative? It's always your choice to proceed down that path; if you'd rather play the game as a "city living" simulator, you can do. If you'd rather play the game in an attempt to steal the most heavily-guarded vehicles as possible, you can do. If you want to ignore the structured content, you can do — and there's very little "unlocking" of things to do, unlike earlier installments, so you have pretty much free roam of the enormous map from the get-go.

I was surprised that GTA V's plot actually hooked me, though. I enjoyed spending time with Michael, Trevor and Franklin, each of whom are interesting, well-realised characters and all distinctive in their own right. None of them — not even Trevor, whom a lot of critics have fixated on — are one-dimensional characters, and each have their own personal story arcs to follow amid the overall plot. The story itself has a good blend of dark humour and serious(ish) crime drama, and there's some fantastic setpieces. There's potential for different playthroughs to unfold slightly differently thanks to some (admittedly limited) choices — but the game caters to and copes with these differences with unique dialogue.

Outside of the main story components, the missions are well-designed, too; one of the strengths of the open-world structure is that it provides the scope for you to tackle situations as you see fit, and the game embraces this philosophy wholeheartedly on a number of occasions. There are assassination missions where you need to figure out the best way to approach a target, for example; and later in the game, you have to steal some cars based on limited photographic information. This latter one really impressed me, actually; I found myself walking rather than driving around the city, looking carefully for the landmarks I was supposed to be seeking out, and it wasn't a frustrating experience at all — it felt like walking around a real city looking for something.

GTA V has its elements that will make people uncomfortable or turn them off, sure, but there's little denying it's a great game and a fantastic technical achievement. I'm glad I actually took the time to play it through — I was all set to pass it by after getting frustrated with all the frankly ridiculous hype, which I still think was completely overboard — and would recommend that if you've been on the fence about it, you should give it a go.

1341: Life in Los Santos

I'm very impressed with Grand Theft Auto V. Much, much more than I was expecting to be — most notably for the fact that it's actually the story keeping me interested.

Grand Theft Auto has undergone a gradual evolutionary process since its first installment. The first Grand Theft Auto was a fast-action arcade game — you had a score, lives, crazy bonuses and the fact you were driving around being an asshole was largely incidental. Grand Theft Auto II introduced a few additional mechanics, but was still largely a "game" rather than an immersive world and story.

Grand Theft Auto III is where things started to change. Transplanting the action from the top-down maps of earlier installments into a fully three-dimensional city, it was many folks' first encounter with a "sandbox" game, in which you could do as you pleased. That "freedom" was something of an illusion, though; Grand Theft Auto III still had a very "game-like" progression whereby you couldn't make it to the next "level" — the next of Liberty City's three islands — until you had progressed far enough in the structured content. It worked well, though; by the time you finished a region, you knew it really well. That said, if you were booting up the game for the first time on, say, someone else's console and you just wanted to get the great sports cars and cause havoc, there were arbitrary limitations in place.

Vice City took the basic structure of Grand Theft Auto III and removed those restrictions for the most part. The Miami-inspired setting was split between two islands that you could drive back and forth between at will, and there were plenty of things for you to do besides the story missions — though the story itself was interesting in a Scarface sort of way. This was taken to an extreme in San Andreas, which offered three cities and a whole host of countryside in between, with plenty of side things to do along the way, although the early part of the game did reinstate the arbitrary game-like restrictions on where you were "allowed" to go.

Grand Theft Auto IV was another turning point for the series. Although III onwards had had an actual narrative with a beginning, middle and end, IV placed the emphasis on the story rather than freeform chaos. You still had a lot of choice and freedom in how you went about beating the game, but real efforts had clearly been made to make the protagonist an interesting character. For some, however, this went against the grain of what they felt Grand Theft Auto "should" be about — particularly when you started getting regularly harassed on the phone by virtual in-game girlfriends and friends to go and hang out. I personally quite liked it — though not enough, I might add, to ever actually finish it.

And now we have Grand Theft Auto V, a game which is attracting as much cynicism as it is popularity and commercial success. And I'm a bit sad about the cynicism part, because Grand Theft Auto V is doing some clever things, is written well and is a remarkably effective piece of fiction — both from the perspective of its scripted narrative and in the building of its world that presents a skewed, twisted but eerily accurate view of our own society in 2013. At the same time, the open world chaos is still very much present and correct — it just doesn't feel as "gamey" as it once did. And that's good — it shows the series has evolved over time rather than stagnating, because it has.

Grand Theft Auto V has the most seamless transitions between freeform wandering around and scripted narrative that I've ever seen. There's no loading breaks, no fade-outs with mission titles, no "letterboxing" — just one moment you'll be walking around, the next you come across a couple of people talking, you walk up to them and you're seamlessly into a cutscene.

Then there's "the torture scene," a scene that has caused a considerable amount of hand-wringing from people across the industry. (Spoilers ahead, obviously.)

In "the torture mission," two of the game's three protagonists become embroiled in a plot involving the in-game equivalent of the FBI. Having "rescued" a hostage from the CIA-equivalent, said hostage is then kidnapped by the FIB (sic) and dragged to an abandoned warehouse for interrogation. Michael, one of the protagonists, is sent out to find a person — supposedly a threat to national security — based on the information the hostage gives. Trevor, another of the protagonists, stays behind to administer torture and get the hostage to talk.

For the mission, your control flips back and forth between Trevor and Michael several times. As Michael, you have to use the information Trevor finds to locate and assassinate the right person; as Trevor, you have the option of using several different implements to administer torture to the hostage, and you have to actively participate in said torture by following on-screen prompts.

The scene is graphic, horrible, disturbing and unpleasant. Taken out of context, you'd be forgiven for thinking Rockstar had finally gone too far with this scene. Take it in context, meanwhile, and it's entirely appropriate for this scene to be there. It makes sense, and it has something to say. The hostage starts talking almost immediately after the prospect of torture is on the table, and yet as the player we're still forced to administer torture four times in total, reflecting the fact that both Trevor and Michael are very much under the control of the FIB at this point. Trevor, being a psychopath, takes a certain degree of pleasure from administering the torture but is still aware that not performing it would be worse for both him and the hostage. And when it's all over and the FIB agents leave Trevor alone with the hostage to "deal with" him, Trevor instead cuts the hostage's bonds, loads him into his car and drives him to the airport, telling him that his old life is over now and he needs to get as far away from Los Santos as possible.

"Torture is for the torturer," Trevor says to the hostage on the drive. "And for the person giving orders to the torturer. Sometimes it's for the torturee, but only if they're paying well enough. It's a terrible means of getting information."

I had no idea of the latter part of the scene's context from the articles that emerged shortly after the game's release, and it's important. It gives it meaning and a message — whether or not you think it's succeeding in delivering that message is a matter of opinion, of course, but I think it was remarkably effective. One thing I am certain of, though; it's certainly not in there just to court controversy. Like so many other things in Grand Theft Auto V, it's a brutal and biting attack on some of the things about modern culture that we might not want to acknowledge or admit.

Should we have been able to skip it? Should it have come with warnings? Those are questions I can't answer, I'm afraid, but for me, some of the impact of that particular part of the story would have been lost if that scene was not present.

And I'll be honest, I never expected to be sitting here talking about the impact a Grand Theft Auto's story had on me, which is just one of many signs of how far the series has come.

1339: Obligatory GTA Post

So I've been playing Grand Theft Auto V and, as often happens with overly-hyped games that I've started to feel sick of the sight of before they already came out, I've found myself genuinely surprised to be enjoying it.

This doesn't make the "hype" problem any less of a problem, though. I get that people are excited about it and that it's a relatively "important" game from the perspective of it costing a fucking fortune to make and also being one of the last great "big" games of this hardware generation, but the sheer level of hype is actually having something of a negative impact.

You might think that's a contradiction — any publicity is good publicity, after all — but in GTA's case the sheer pressure there is to write something — anything — about this fucking game is leading to what I can't help but feel is a bit of an unrealistic picture.

The cynicism surrounding the game's characters, writing and story is probably the worst thing. Going in to GTA V relatively "blind" having deliberately avoided as much of the hype as I possibly could, I've been surprised at quite how well-written it is. Michael is a sympathetic character prone to bouts of extravagant rage — often manifesting in some of the game's more spectacular setpieces — while Franklin is a character who is clearly much too smart for the life he's been living up until this point.

Trevor, meanwhile, whose missions I finally unlocked this evening, is a genuinely loathsome character, but not in the sense that he stops me wanting to play. On the contrary, his loathsomeness is horrifyingly compelling — particularly as he's not just a blindly raging psychopath and is instead clearly something of a complex character prone to violent mood swings. He's cracking genuinely amusing witticisms one moment; screaming bloody murder (literally) the next. He's certainly memorable.

There's been a lot of hand-wringing over the game's overall sense of morality, and I do think that it's the most graphic, violent GTA we've ever seen. Again, that's not necessarily a bad thing, though; if a story told in a medium known for desensitising people to virtual violence still has the capacity to shock and make you feel uncomfortable, it's doing its job right. Is it necessary? Perhaps not, but this is the story the writers have chosen to tell and the characters they have chosen to create, and in a game so focused on its unfolding plot — and yes, regardless of all the open-world chaos there is on offer, this is very much a game about its plot and characters — I have to respect the writers' decisions. Also, we are talking about a series called Grand Theft Auto — a series which has long been known for its strong focus on deliberately being a tosser.

Interestingly, one thing I've found with GTA is that I want to "method act" the characters. When I'm playing as Michael, I want to play things straight — drive properly and respectfully, not start fights or cause chaos. When I'm Franklin, it's similar — it feels particularly right, as Franklin, to stop for the people who've had their bag snatched, chase down the criminal and then return it to the person who lost it rather than walking off with it. When I'm Trevor, meanwhile, everything goes out of the window; it doesn't feel "wrong" to take the most direct route possible to a destination, even if that means flattening every fence and lamppost along the way; it doesn't feel "wrong" to wander down the street punching random pedestrians in the face.

I had my suspicions before I unlocked him, but now I'm all but completely certain that Trevor is in the game primarily for one reason: to address the most common criticism of GTA IV, which was that the story the game was trying to tell and the freedom to cause carnage were at odds with one another. Using the "method acting" analogy again, it simply didn't feel right to play Niko as a psychopath who randomly attacked people and stood in the middle of the road with a rocket launcher. The simple presence of Trevor in GTA V — plus the ability to give him a massive beard and a ridiculous scraggy mullet just to make him look even more disheveled than he already is — ably addresses this concern while still allowing the rest of the game to unfold its narrative in peace. Well, as much peace as can be expected from a GTA narrative, anyway.

Is GTA V perfect? No, of course not. Does it have issues that could do with resolving? Perhaps, though I'd perhaps argue not to the degree some people are making out. Is it good, though? Absolutely, and if you've been debating whether or not to get it… you should at least give it a look. If it does something that turns you off, fair enough; but it's certainly well worth a look.

1336: Where's My Paid-For Version?

Disney released a sequel to its popular iOS game Where's My Water? recently. Where's My Water?, if you're unfamiliar, is supposedly one of the best iOS games out there, and even managed to pick up an Apple Design Award at WWDC in 2012. It's an extremely popular game that was well received by both press and public alike, and spawned a couple of spin-off games prior to the recently released official sequel.

The official sequel is, inevitably, free-to-play, unlike the 69p original. Said original did have in-app purchases, yes, but they were mostly actual additional content — new levels and so on — plus, until recently, the game was continuously supported with weekly challenges that kept the game relevant over time. (The removal of these weekly challenges in the most recent update has annoyed a bunch of players, incidentally, but surely they can't expect Disney to continually support a game from 2011 forever.)

Where's My Water 2 has, unsurprisingly, been torn a new one by App Store reviewers for being free-to-play — and with good reason. Like Plants vs. Zombies 2, there is not one single convincing reason why making it free-to-play is a good thing for anyone except Disney. At least you can play Plants vs. Zombies 2 for as long as you like, however; Where's My Water 2 adds the ultimate insult of incorporating an energy mechanic into the game, effectively blocking people from continuing to play every few levels unless they pay up.

hate energy systems. They were a fucking pain in the arse when I had to review mobile and social games because they meant I could only play the game for a certain amount of time before having to leave it for several hours (because I sure as fuck wasn't paying), and they're a fucking pain in the arse if I just want to enjoy a mobile game these days. They're a slap in the face to the player, and effectively a sign that the developer/publisher of the game don't trust their player base to actually slip them some money if they're enjoying themselves. It represents the absolute worst of everything about free-to-play, and it needs to stop.

I'm glad that App Store reviewers are starting to speak up against things like energy systems and excessive in-app purchases, because it's getting out of control. I find myself actually wanting Where's My Water 2 to fail, because it will teach Disney a lesson. This may sound harsh — I haven't played Where's My Water 2, so for all I know it could be a great game, and I'm sure the dev team worked hard on it — but this continuing trend of games that hold their content hostage needs to stop. Rather than it being an incentive to download and try something for myself, I will now actively avoid games on the App Store that are "free". And since most of the games on the App Store are now "free", this means I'm simply avoiding most of the stuff on the App Store, which is probably doing a great disservice to the few people out there who are doing great work, and who are treating their players with respect.

You want to see how to do free-to-play right? Go play Card Hunter.