Many years ago, Dara O’Briain did one of the only good standup routines about video games. Video games, O’Briain argued, are the only entertainment medium that actively tests the observer, withholding their content behind challenges of mentality and dexterity. Albums, television shows and films will carry on regardlessly from the moment you press play; sections of a book that prove hard to read can be flipped past; but challenging sections of a game have to be bested or even mastered in order to progress. Want to see what happens next in Dark Souls, but can’t beat the Capra Demon? Too bad. Heard that Through Time and Space is one of the best video game levels ever, but can’t grapple with The Witcher’s inventory management and combat systems? Tough shit.

While there’s an amusing honesty to the bit, it kinda belies an uncomfortable truth about video games - that the parts where you’re moving the joysticks are likely to be the only moments of intellectual stimulation that most video games have to offer, with cutscenes more or less functioning as rewarding soap opera spectacle. It’s hard to discuss this kind of thing without sounding like a wanker, but it’s just a fact that even prestigious “adult” game-fiction like The Last of Us or God of War still rarely stirs anything more than an acknowledging “huh” in the players who’ve deigned to step outside the cultural borders of electronic entertainment and other mainstream media. Games narratives still tend to rely on cinematic cutscenes to convey information and drama, and most of the time said information or metatext is barely worth parlaying to the player - $10 million spent on comic book writers telling us “man is the real monster” or “depression is bad”. At their very best, our prestige video games are still just doing replicas of better movies.

killer7 differentiates itself from this convention in a number of ways. It’s a game that makes no concessions for those who expect a linear, event-driven narrative, peppering weirdo pseudo-plot and thought throughout map layouts, door keys (ever thought about what the Soul Shells are?) and helpful hints from dudes in gimpsuits who are prone to taking left turns into Baudrillardian philosophy while directing you to the bathroom. Textual and subtextual ambiguity reigns supreme. The gameplay (on Medium, at least) is unlikely to challenge the player all that much - aside from a few head-scratcher puzzles, it’s more or less a case of walking from point of interest to point of interest to open doors and shoot zombies. And, in a strange inversion of the problem outlined above, it’s the cutscenes and character dialogues that will tax a player’s brain far harder than anything that involves clicking buttons.

I think killer7 is a work of profound ridiculousness. Or ridiculous profundity. Something like that, anyway - I’m not quite sure of the precise term I need here, but I think Suda and Mikami are pulling from the playbooks of guys like Thomas Pynchon and David Lynch with this game - keep throwing potentially meaningful ideas and images at the screen, both within and outwith the realm of the cutscene, and let the true ones stick - the viewer will be too busy grappling with the good to remember the bad. It’s a technique that surprisingly few games dabble in, despite the supernatural properties of the medium and the obnoxious, inhuman lengths that most games require a player to play for.

So what are the good images here? Well, I guess it’s a function of the temporal, political and personal preferences of the player. Like abstract paintings, surrealist movies and post-modern novels, killer7 is wholly open to interpretation through your own kaleidoscopic lens. Unlike most game narratives that more or less bluntly prescribe a story and some associated themes (if any at all), killer7, like most Suda games, seems content to spray blood against the walls and do some interactive Rorschach testing with your psyche. Sure, there’s talk of American-Japanese relations and terrorism and borders and killers and the valise of our personae, but there’s nothing proscriptive or particularly didactic here - it’s more or less a presentation of post-9/11 realities that the player is asked to order and interpret as they see fit; a balancing act of feelings versus facts in opposition with fictions. Hand in killer7, the companion book for killer7, even (deliberately?) contradicts the facts of its own reality within the first ten pages - as if to highlight how pointless an endeavour Making Sense of it All is, especially in our Fukuyama/Fisher-influenced End of Capitalist-Realist History-Present.

By complete coincidence, I played through this game in parallel with the trial of Ghislaine Maxwell, and finished it on the same day she was convicted - so Target 03: Encounter (Part 2) - where the Killer 7 head to an Epstein-pre-Epstein prescient-simulacra of Little James Island to take out an organ trader and implied child molester - held particular relevancy to me. The Jeffrey Epstein case and its relevant co-conspiracies are probably the best examples of what I’m prattling on about above - get ten, twenty, or a hundred people in a room together, and you’ll probably get a hundred interpretations of what the inner sanctum of Epstein’s reality really was - a whole smoothie bar of blended facts, news, fake news, Facebook news, speculation, fiction, fact and fuck knows what else. killer7 is often lumped together with The Silver 2425 as part of the “Kill the Past” series, and I think this info-meld of history in the melting pot of public consciousness is one of the chief relationships the games have with each other. Ironic that games about removing the past would so thoroughly realise the future of our present.

How did Suda51 know that the word’s top players would conspire to send an assassin after a sanctioned private ally of the United States government, a living evil who trafficked young girls with both personal and ulterior purpose? And how did he know a global pandemic would (temporarily) return humanity to a road-faring race? As is often suggested with Suda51 (see also: The Silver Case, No More Heroes) he may be one of gaming’s top producers of prophetic works. “Prophetic media” has been in vogue since March 2020 - references to media-elite paedophile rings in mid-2000s Nickelodeon cartoons; references to coronavirus in mid-2010s K-Dramas; references to Tom Hanks getting sick in mid-1990s episodes of The Simpsons. Wow! How do they pull it off?! Well, as with killer7’s imagery, I think it may be down to volume of produce rather than accuracy of content. The Simpsons is able to predict so much shit correctly because every ‘incorrect’ prediction isn’t even recognised as a prediction until it comes close to resembling some form of the truth we want it to be. The same applies to the images that Grasshopper’s games create.

Is this the secret to making remarkable, meaningful art and cultural commentary? Just keep producing, producing, producing until your images become resonant by virtue of the typewriter-monkey principle? That’s maybe underselling what Grasshopper achieved here - the foundations killer7 are built upon are more or less rock-solid. The cel-shaded mono-colour aesthetic is timeless, and the chosen palette for each Target is fittingly eerie. The control system, while initially awkward, is ultimately a solid compromise for a game that distills a gameplay fusion between Mikami’s Resident Evil series and Suda’s Silver Case adventure games - and it feels even better on PC, where 90% of the game can be played with just the mouse.

Although often cited as unconventional, I think the gameplay style of killer7 is a fairly logical compromise for these two creators, who seem more concerned with tone poetry and 2000s-exploration than providing a compelling and practical gamefeel. Anyway, it’s sometimes more important that a game feels good in the brain than on the hands moving the controller. killer7 is a game that locks its content away inside your mind, with progress often being made many hours after you’ve stepped away from the console and allowed your third eye time to process the images your two eyes have seen. It’s all in your head.

Far and away the worst game Capcom have ever made, a uniquely fascinating and objectively awful experience from a company whose lesser games are typically let down by near-imperceptible balance flaws for hardcore gameplay enthusiasts; a “bad” Capcom game is normally undone by subpar netcode or an overpowered character, but here we must suffer through actors falling through floors, textures upside-down on walls and enemies who forget to wake up and fight you, perhaps protesting at the unsanitary working conditions they’ve been asked to perform in. Rotten to the core in ways big-developer games are never allowed to be any more, Spanish bootleg-ass Devil May Cry game, fuckin El Diablo Puede llorar: Dos on a cigarette-burned DVD you got at the market this morning, buried deep in a spindle with Animal Soccer World. Hooooly shit dude, it’s funny like a bad movie for the first hour or two, rinsing bosses in minutes without taking damage by just standing still and shooting your guns and cackling maniacally about how little brain you used, but the novelty of a mute Dante’s hexagonal eyes clipping through their pentagonal sockets soon gives way to a depressive despair when you’re begged by a nervous stutter to pull off a series of chaotic wall-runs in order to beat a battle that I’m pretty sure was compiled and saved moments before Hideaki Itsuno had to load copies of this shitpile onto the back of a busted dumptruck headed straight to the cemetery. I persevered past the attack chopper’s infamy in hope of more epic-fail frivolity but was only rewarded with more mechanical misery; being able to activate Devil Trigger amidst what appears to be a knockdown state and have it expire before you can even jank yourself to your feet is a fun five minute feat, but my remaining shreds of self-respect prevented me from subjecting myself to ten more hours of bosses you can beat by simply walking behind them. Huge admiration for Capcom putting this in the HD Collection, presumably as a cautionary tale for generations to come about what happens when you release a CAG without combos, care or competence. Drakengard, eat your dragonheart out.

𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓽𝔂 𝓼𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓮𝔀


𝓒𝓡𝓤𝓔𝓛𝓣𝓨 𝓢𝓠𝓤𝓐𝓓 by 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖘 🄶🄴🅃🅂 🄰🅆🄰🅈 with 🄰 🅆🄷🄾🄻🄴 🄻🄾🅃 🄾🄵 ˢʰⁱᵗ 🄹🅄🅂🅃 🄱🅈 🅅🄸🅁🅃🅄🄴 🄾🄵 🄸🅃🅂 คєรՇђєՇเς รєภรเ๒เɭเՇเєร. ₛᵢₘₚₗy ₜₕᵣₒwᵢₙg ₒᵤₜ wₒᵣdₛ ₗᵢₖₑ 🅲🆁🆈🅿🆃🅾🅲🆄🆁🆁🅴🅽🅲🆈 and l̶̦͍̖̪̂̄a̸̧͖͍̠̤̜͇̮̯̅̈́̈́̔ͅt̷̳͈̔̀̑̓̌͝ȅ̵̛̥̠̯̖̯̮̹̃̅͛̓̂ͅͅ ̵̪̜̹̏̆̃̂s̸̭̙̱̰̓̎̋̇͋̿́́͝t̷̥͔̤̰̻̥̱̪̝̄̊̇̉̓̌͜a̴̡̨͔̙̦͓̮̠̦̮̾̉̎̈́̕͝g̵̰̻̥̊̎͗̂̈́ẹ̷͉̼͉̠̲̪̰͑̈́͆̉̀̔̄͜ ̷̼̩̣̪̺̎̏͋͊ͅç̴̭͕̹̼̓̎̽͛̆̈̚͝a̶̡̟͖̫̫͙͙̤͖̾͂̉̄͒͛̌̓͘p̸͚̖̰̓̓̓̈́͛͋̎̏͠͠i̵̧̮͓̎͛̕ͅͅt̷̠͇͊́̒̃̽̃͌͗̊͒ą̷̝̹̥͇͖̫͖̭̉́̀̄͋́̌̏̕͜͠l̴̺̈́͐͒͋̾͑͊̈́͊̿i̷̧̞̹͗͆̓̆s̵̡͙̝̖̳̳̭͕͚̣͊̌̀̓̕m̷̧̉ seems to be enough to ֆǟȶɨֆʄʏ (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ online video game critics ♥ 【ｔｈｅｓｅ　ｄａｙｓ．．．】! "𝙀𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙪𝙣𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚" is the 𝓒𝓞𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓓'𝓢 𝓒𝓛𝓘𝓒𝓗𝓔 𝓒𝓡𝓘𝓣𝓘𝓠𝓤𝓔 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 V⃣ I⃣ D⃣ E⃣ O⃣ G⃣ A⃣ M⃣ E⃣ R⃣ E⃣ V⃣ I⃣ E⃣ W⃣ S⃣, but I think ｃｒｕｅｌｔｙ░ｓｑｕａｄ（ゅヮ桜）, by [̲̅v][̲̅i][̲̅r][̲̅t][̲̅u][̲̅e] of its ιⓝşίˢᵗ乇ᑎς𝐄 on 𝓃𝑜𝓃-𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉-𝓂𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟢𝓈 𝒾𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓎. truly đỖ𝕖Ⓢ ʏᎸɘb ᴎɘƚᎸo 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦-𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦. . . . . . . . ᶜᴬᴺ ʸᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴬᴳᴵᴺᴱ ᴼᴾᴱᴺᴵᴺᴳ ⒺⓁⒺⒸⓉⓇⓄⓃⒾⒸ ⒼⒶⓂⒾⓃⒼ ⓂⓄⓃⓉⒽⓁⓎ OR 🅶🅰🅼🅴🆂🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁 🅼🅰🅶🅰🆉🅸🅽🅴 αɳԃ ｒｅａｄｉｎｇ 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 about c̴̢̹͔̦͍̯̮͙̜̓̕r̸̦̭̮̼͉̲̒̈́u̴̫͉̞̓̅͌̓̾̚͠e̵̡̠̹̩̱̓̄͂͆́̾͜ļ̷͉͇̱̈́͝ť̵̨̺̗̹̪̑̚ỵ̷̰̥̥̼̈́ ̶̪̙̘͇́̉̉͗̑̇͊̄͌̕ş̶̠͕̭̈́̄͌q̸̧̤͋̎̈̑̈́̆̐̈́͌̿u̸̼̞̟̬̪̻̰̖̇͝a̴̢̞̻̹̩͌̍̅̅d̵̨̨̳̖͔̈̓͠?


🄶🅁🄰🄿🄷🄸🄲🅂0/10
🄶🄰🄼🄴🄿🄻🄰🅈6/10
🅂🄾🅄🄽🄳4/10
🅁🄴🄿🄻🄰🅈🄰🄱🄸🄻🄸🅃🅈7/10
🄾🅅🄴🅁🄰🄻🄻8/10

Banho Gelado + No Fap + MGTOW + comer carne crua + comer virado pra parede + biohack + dormir no chão + Jordan Peterson + mewing + HBD + PUA + jelq + dormir 5 horas por dia + café gelado sem açúcar + hipismo + compilação mitadas Enéas + alho cru + podcast do Joe Rogan + redpill + Brain Force + Jejum + meditação iasd + músicas para concentração, foco e inteligência + teste de QI da internet + grupos de linhagem viking do facebook + ficar longe do poste de internet 4G + youtube do varg vikernes + essência de morango da turma da mônica no narguilé + jogar vape na cara de todo mundo que tentar entrar no bloco da faculdade + 5 segundos de calistenia no deserto do atacama + darkcel + óculos do aécio na foto de perfil + ler quotes do nietzsche no brainy quote + criar galinha no quarto sem os pais saberem + Alho cru + uma colher de azeite quando acorda e outra antes de dormir + jejum de 24hrs a cada 72hrs + assistir VT no premiere logo que chega do estádio + canal Ultras World + LibreFighting + Operation Werewolf + comprar os artigos do Paul Waggener + Centhurion METHOD + humilliation exposure com a finalidade de criar uma crosta na sua mente capaz de desenvolver uma resiliência que resiste à humilhação como se ela fosse nada + tomar banho descalço em chuveiro de academia com chão mijado + musculação caseira + hackear o sono + Empreender + 10 livros de auto ajuda por mês + PUA + Selo super fã da fúria e tradição + Biokinesis + 432hz music + Mexer o pau sem piscar o cú + meditação transcendental + veganismo + minoxidil para cultivar uma barba + filmografia Jason Stataham + assistir vikings + redpill + ir no cinema sozinho + treino saitama + coach quântico + enema de café + dieta lair ribeiro + agua alcalina + O Método de Wim Hof + sabedoria hiperbórea + artigos da Nova Resistência + Biblioteca do Dídimo Matos + dormir virado pra parede assobiando no escuro pra espantar o curupira + dar 3 pulinhos toda vez que levantar da cama + dizer amém quando um 1113 azul passar por você

Geralmente quando um jogo é feio e grotesco assim, alguns críticos sabichões sempre começam falando algo do tipo de “por baixo da camada de sujeira de X, existe uma pérola escondida que revela seu brilho real após inspeção cuidadosa”. Não existe debaixo da sujeira de Cruelty Squad, o jogo te convida pra se chafurdar na lama junto com ele: a endorfina da violência; o desprezo à vida humana¹; a graça na desgraça - são todos completamente reais, e o espaço para a ironia barata dá lugar à percepção do real horror latente, presente nas caras nojentas dos que estão ao seu redor, nas paredes de escritório que pulsam como se alimentassem de seus inquilinos, nas súplicas de uma máquina cuja sede sabemos que é inesgotável.

Ainda que impactado, não obstante impressionado por sua voz e presença, senti que a qualidade dos estágios foi meio inconsistente - os melhores eram saborosos puzzles de rápida iteração, os piores, uma chacina entediante do começo ao fim - e não o tipo de entediante que me dava vontade de engajar no CEO grindset.

¹ Na oitava tentativa em uma fase, chutar os civis na minha frente era um ato mais pessoal do que o de esmiuçar o meu alvo CEO o mais rápido o possível.