Conceived in
2005,
Dead Island
finally makes its shambling way to shop shelves, invigorated by a
promotional boost but carrying some telltale traits picked up during
its six-year gestation. What began as a straight survival FPS – a
wide-eyed go-anywhere, wield-anything premise – arrives looking a
bit peaky. We spy Borderlands-shaped toothmarks on its loot-focused
weapon customization and four player online co-op. Elsewhere, NPCs
bear Oblivion-esque side missions – with none of Bethesda’s
branching outcomes – while zombie types echo Left 4 Dead’s. Only
Banoi Island itself remains Techland’s own, complete with all the
texture, audio and animation glitches we’ve come to expect from its
Chrome Engine.
Dead Island delivers death by a thousand cuts, both literal and figurative. The literal cuts are almost good fun. As zombie hordes (or, thanks to limited tech, zombie tens) shuffle closer, a series of melee blows result in chuckle-some injuries. Wrenches split heads, butchers’ knives cleave legs clean off and baseball bats dislocate arms, leaving them swinging impotently from the shoulder. Hit a sprinting infected with a well-timed swipe and its head pops off in slow motion as momentum sees the body comically run on by. In a game about bashing zombies, the zombies look suitably bashed. The problems arise from the bashing.
For a game built primarily around melee combat, the swinging arc is an inexact science. Some blows clip enemies visibly out of reach, while others refuse to snag bodies filling the screen. The vital kick move, handily knocking attackers down, sees the player’s leg constantly alter its length. Sometimes we are lanky Bruce Campbell, at others a wee Sarah Michelle Gellar. The mystery of this ever-changing limb is more engaging than Techland’s yarn. Console players get the added bonus of an inconsistent auto-aim, refusing to dish out the head lops that come more easily to PC mouse-wielders. What should be laughs of vindictive satisfaction are more often snorts of genuine surprise. You can see what they have attempted to do with the combat system, and they had some good ideas, but missed the mark on it's execution.
The survival fiction is particularly inept. Items respawn after a short window of time, lending infinite resources to a narrative that trades on desperate struggle. On a micro level, it leads to the absurd. Characters cry about dehydration as energy drinks lie at their feet, while tricky supply runs sit at odds with the infinite quantity of canned food in the room next door. And these inconsistencies cannot be forgiven with a weary shake of the head. Ongoing trade missions can be exploited as XP mines, while weapons need never go blunt thanks to endless trading funds. Only an awkward shopping interface dissuades such underhand play – every item has to be sold one unit at a time. Selling 17 magnets in a row is a true survival horror.
Dead Island delivers death by a thousand cuts, both literal and figurative. The literal cuts are almost good fun. As zombie hordes (or, thanks to limited tech, zombie tens) shuffle closer, a series of melee blows result in chuckle-some injuries. Wrenches split heads, butchers’ knives cleave legs clean off and baseball bats dislocate arms, leaving them swinging impotently from the shoulder. Hit a sprinting infected with a well-timed swipe and its head pops off in slow motion as momentum sees the body comically run on by. In a game about bashing zombies, the zombies look suitably bashed. The problems arise from the bashing.
For a game built primarily around melee combat, the swinging arc is an inexact science. Some blows clip enemies visibly out of reach, while others refuse to snag bodies filling the screen. The vital kick move, handily knocking attackers down, sees the player’s leg constantly alter its length. Sometimes we are lanky Bruce Campbell, at others a wee Sarah Michelle Gellar. The mystery of this ever-changing limb is more engaging than Techland’s yarn. Console players get the added bonus of an inconsistent auto-aim, refusing to dish out the head lops that come more easily to PC mouse-wielders. What should be laughs of vindictive satisfaction are more often snorts of genuine surprise. You can see what they have attempted to do with the combat system, and they had some good ideas, but missed the mark on it's execution.
The survival fiction is particularly inept. Items respawn after a short window of time, lending infinite resources to a narrative that trades on desperate struggle. On a micro level, it leads to the absurd. Characters cry about dehydration as energy drinks lie at their feet, while tricky supply runs sit at odds with the infinite quantity of canned food in the room next door. And these inconsistencies cannot be forgiven with a weary shake of the head. Ongoing trade missions can be exploited as XP mines, while weapons need never go blunt thanks to endless trading funds. Only an awkward shopping interface dissuades such underhand play – every item has to be sold one unit at a time. Selling 17 magnets in a row is a true survival horror.
So while they
have created an attractive world, and had some good ideas, they
failed to deliver what they had promised to zombie game lovers. In a
game that took so long to make, why do we see so many similarities to
other games? This level of game complexity could have been carried
off in a much shorter time, when we might have apreciated what it
gave us, but they took too long, and although it can still be a fun
game, it is far from the complete zombie experience that players were
hoping for.
Written by Tj Scrivener
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