Lost Planet Review
Score: 3/5
When a game gets everything just right, it often fails description; we’re reduced to summing up near flawless experiences as “real good”. On the other hand, describing a game’s weaknesses is much easier when all its unmentionables are showing. Such is the case with Lost Planet, a game blushing with embarrassment. Lost Planet would be an otherwise top-notch third-person action game if it weren’t for the sum of many smallish issues collectively dragging it down. Lost Planet’s snowbound thrills should give you some chills, but runs too cold for its own good.
The “lost planet” in question is E.D.N. III, one big frozen snowball. Humans have left the comforts of home to colonize E.D.N. III for reasons unfathomable; the introduction actually sets-up the planets’ colonization with “humankind had abandoned the comfort of a familiar world in order to attempt life on E.D.N. III”. Really? Why? What’s more, humans get there, find out the planet is inhabited with the hostile Akrid - a giant insect like race - get driven back, but decide to return to actually fight the Akrid; mind you, this time around they have Vitals Suits (VSs), otherwise known in every other videogame as Mechs. This is where you come in: Wayne, a soldier in what is presumably the effort to drive out the Akrid. Akrid kill your father, you end up in a coma, you’re rescued by snow pirates - bands of settlers left behind from the first wave of colonization - and help them in their quest to, coincidentally, wipe out the Akrid. This is where the game picks up, and any semblance of coherency ends.
The presentation of story in Lost Planet is bad. Let me rephrase that: The presentation of story in Lost Planet is absolutely terrible. The plot is complicated and utterly nonsensical to boot. By the time you’re fighting the final boss you’ll have bolded cartoon question marks blinking over your head. The situation isn’t made any better by voice acting and dialogue which is typical Capcom bad, and character reactions that range from over-wrought to bizarre. This is a rare instance where the story actually dampens your gameplay experience with a slight yet ever-present fog of confusion. The presentation could have had some real camp value if not for the fact that nothing makes sense. The only upside are the cut-scenes which show off the games’ slick visuals.
While the story isn’t going to bring the game to its knees, there are plenty of other flaws that cumulatively nearly succeed in doing so. For starters: the controls. They ain’t broke, but they still need a lot of fixin’. The on-foot controls are decent enough, with responsive and fluid movement as you’d expect. But beyond the bare basics, the rest of the functions are poorly implemented or practically hidden. For example, Wayne is able to dive in any direction to quickly remove himself from harm’s way. But in order to do so you have to 1. click in and 2. hold in the left stick while 3. pushing in any direction and then 4. push A. Not exactly simplicity itself. Furthermore, the animation sticks at the end of his dive roll, pausing his forward momentum and thus creating a very awkward, almost disturbing, break in fluidity.
Besides poor design choices, some of the functions are flat out hidden. Like, for instance, using your anchor shot - a spiderman like grappling hook - to scale an enemy VS (Mech) then throwing a grenade at the cockpit. A clever little addition, but you’ll only ever discover it through fluke or by carefully reading the manual. It doesn’t matter much anyhow as your standard grenades will lamely bounce and slide off the VS to the ground, and getting that close to a VS without being knocked back by projectiles is a practice in sheer frustration.
You can pilot VSs, each with their unique control scheme. Upon entering one of the several VSs for the first time the action pauses while a screen pops up describing its unique functions and button scheme, then it’s up to you to adjust to the brand new controls in the heat of battle. You’re able to swap weapons loaded onto your VS’s flanks by walking over a new weapon and pressing B. But you have to precisely walk over the weapon, and if not you’ll eject yourself from the VS since the B button shares that function. Not very smart. Also not very smart: the booster capabilities. Each VS shares the ability to engage a jet powered boost in any direction, including up. While useful, it’s entirely ungainly. You engage once for a pre-determined amount of boost that ends in its own good time. Such is the effect that well after the boosts’ usefulness your VS continues to sputter about whilst you vainly try to keep it still.
Control of your reticule is fine and responsive, a blessing that helps forgive some of the aforementioned flaws. However, it too has its inadequacies. Most notable is the fact that you can’t aim all the way up or all the way down. Given that you’re frequently directly under or over the enemy, this can get bothersome real quick. But what’s most bothersome is your characters’ position directly in the middle of the screen thus obscuring your view. This is just amateurish: even first person shooters have been placing the gun off to either side for an unobstructed view for years.
There are more than a few moments when all these issues come to a head in one giant cluster-f#@k. In one particularly tough boss battle you’ll struggle with viewing perspective, controls, the whole shebang. You’ll be hitting the boost in your VS to avoid taking damage but unable to end the boost to take back control. If you get slammed up into a wall you’ll see the back of your VS and not much else, unable to grasp any sense of situational awareness. You’ll try to accurately aim at the boss’s weak spots but will be frustrated by the VS obstructing your view. Most ragingly frustrating of all, your VS gets stunned by large projectiles, only to recover and get hit immediately and stunned again. This hit-stunned-hit-stunned scenario happens while on-foot as well. Anyway, by now you should get the point.
Aside from controls, the action itself is frenetic and constant. A plethora of enemies are on screen at pretty much all times. It harkens back to the 8-bit days of old, with acts like Contra throwing everything at you but the kitchen sink. It helps that there are a lot of unique Akrid types, ranging from the man-sized variety to the downright monstrous. Each Akrid design is also inspired; I haven’t seen creatures that look quite like this before. Some engagements are flat-out thrilling, like a massive worm smashing its way up through a frozen field of ice and snow, towering several stories above you. Each level has a boss battle and each is usually a spectacle. Defeating the Akrid takes more than just indiscriminately pumping them full of lead. Sure, you could aim anywhere and unload, but most have weak spots for strategic kills. The Chryatis, for instance, has very large arms with weak spots near their base; by focusing fire on these weak spots the arm will eventually snap off and therefore reduce the Akrid’s offensive capabilities.
That’s just for starters. Most Akrid animate wildly when shot; get the aforementioned Chryatis on the ground, for example, and it will spasmodically flip and jerk about when shot repeatedly. They’re reactions are so violent, their bodies tearing apart and flying about, it lends to their bizarre design an even more ethereal and frightening dimension.
I wish the same could be said of battling humans. Frankly, they’re downright stupid. Their behaviour consists mostly of standing, shooting, and occasionally running behind cover. Menacing they are not. In one particular scenario, I was able to snipe what seemed like nearly 20 guys with barely a reaction from those still standing. It doesn’t help that their battle chatter is totally asinine: “This is my end!” Just die, buddy. VS battles are also pretty lame, with the variety of maneuvering boiling down to jump, dash right or left, and shoot.
Even the lamest battles, however, are helped along in a big way by what may be Lost Planets’ greatest strength: explosions. Yes, it may seem silly, but what Gears of War did for sheer detail, Lost Planet does in special effects. You’ve never seen explosion and smoke effects like this. What may be most impressive is just how much chaos the game manages to put on screen.
Take those otherwise lame VS battles, throw in a heap of explosions and billowing smoke, laser fire illuminating a dark landscape, and smoke trails from rockets, and you’re treated to a visual extravaganza. It isn’t much of an exaggeration to say that the explosion and special effects elevate the game as a whole. Besides the special effects, the game is a looker. The VSs look awfully cool with great animations and plenty of individually articulated parts. There is a good amount of detail in just about everything as well, a commendable feat considering the rather barren setting. There is real beauty in the simplicity of these outdoor scenes, blowing snow effects looking particularly great in HD.
A close second to the action is another notable feature: the anchor shot. The anchor is a tethered grappling hook that extends from Wayne’s arm, grapples most surfaces, and pulls him upwards. It also works in reverse, allowing Wayne to rappel from precipices. This is a very welcome addition as it offers another dimension entirely, is thematically consistent with the game, and offers a significant addition to gameplay. There are a few scenarios where careful use of the anchor shot is necessary to progress. Most of all, it’s simply great fun in practice.
But again, there are flaws reigning in even the greatest strengths. While the action is non-stop, it’s just a little too much. All sorts of enemies are thrown at you from the very get-go, even some of the largest ones. The effect is that some of the more menacing enemies aren’t that menacing after all. With a steadier hand guiding the pacing, the game could have had many more dramatic and memorable moments. Problem is, subtlety is sometimes required to set a mood, and Lost Planet is anything but subtle. With regard to graphics, while the environments look fantastic, none of the preset viewing angles is very good for appreciating the environments. What’s more, there’s a surprising amount of levels spent inside which aren’t nearly as impressive. As for the anchor shot, it is underutilized.
There is a rather robust online multiplayer portion to Lost Planet. There are four game modes: elimination, team elimination, post grab, and fugitive. The strength in multiplayer is certainly the combination of great maps, the large amount of players, the anchor shot, and VSs. Although there are a few dud maps, of the eight total most are fantastic. They look great, just as good as the single player campaign. There is also a ton of variety between maps, some ranging from a destroyed and lava filled highway system, to strips of land separated by a giant chasm and linked by but two tiny expanses. Moreover, and this is the real kicker, most maps have a remarkable amount of height. While this might not sound like much, it makes navigating the maps with the anchor shot a real treat. In this way, the anchor shot realizes it true potential as it is a significant tool in gameplay and, used wisely, makes a great difference. Throw in plenty of VSs on a map, and you end up with online matches that are frequently exciting and unfold with plenty of variety.
Unless you’re an achievement points fiend, there are few incentives to go back and play the campaign once you’ve already been through it. So, once you’re done, you’re done. On the other hand, the multiplayer is well done and serves up what should be a good deal of fun until the next big online sensation comes around. As a whole, Lost Planet is almost a purchase worthy attraction. But its single player shortcomings are too numerous to ignore. As it stands, Lost Planet is worth a play, but it’s an example great potential not quite realized, and somewhat lost.
peachey @ January 12, 2007