Title	:	Dead or Alive Xtreme Beach Volleyball
Platforms	:	Microsoft Xbox
Publisher	:	Tecmo
ESRB Rating	:	Mature
Game Rating	:	8.4
Review by	:	Ken Gagne

There are many reasons you'll want to play this game. Or ignore it. Or cry for its censorship. Love it or hate it — or me for reviewing it - the assassins, ninja, and wrestlers of Tecmo's fighting games exert their nubile selves in Dead or Alive Xtreme Beach Volleyball, for the Microsoft Xbox. 

This game is rated "M" for Mature, due to its sexual theme. The unique quality of DOAXBV isn't in its gameplay as much as its visual appeal. The volleyball players are solely Amazons with bodies taken from magazine foldouts. These buxom beauties have no qualms exhibiting their bounties to peeping gamers. While there is absolutely no nudity, sex, or anything else illicit, there are plenty of subtle overtones and shameless movements. When the action gets heated, you best keep your eye on the ball, though, as the matches can grow genuinely tense, regardless of its participants' endowments. 

The volleyball action is simplified, with two buttons and much assistance. Your avatar will automatically leap when presented with an opportunity to spike, which is the only real way to earn points. The greater the victory margin, the greater the cash prize — which can be spent on adorning your athlete with swimsuits, hair bangles, footwear, and more. 

Yes, this game lets you play dress-up with these life-size Barbie dolls. Collecting all the revealing outfits and accessories is at least half the game's fun. But from an aesthetic perspective, what DOAXBV needs is a gallery where various pieces of clothing can be modelled. Some pieces don't go well together, or on certain figures, and it's a shame to not learn what a bad combination is until you see it on the court. 

The other women can be vicariously dressed by presenting them with gifts, which serves a more than visual purpose. These ladies are akin to virtual pets, and must be kept happy for them to perform well and choose to partner with you. Each woman has not only her own strengths and weaknesses, but also likes and dislikes; failing to pander to these tastes can leave you without a partner, forcing you to the sideline. If it's straight volleyball action you're looking for, the only sure bet is the game's Exhibition mode, which eschews any simulation qualities and heads right to the beach. You can bring a buddy to this mode, but not three, as DOAXBV lacks four-player support; a co-op mode for two people to play against the computer is also absent. 

Voyeurs will regret the exclusion of full camera control and slow motion during the replays, but will delight in the telescopic zoom and being able to set the girls by the poolside, where they lounge languidly. At night, gamers can enjoy the hotel's unadorned casino, where blackjack, poker, roulette, and slots prevail. 

Other than the game's natural curves, there isn't much to look at. Each of the four beaches can be played at day or night, and are the main settings of gameplay. The camera swings left and right depending on which side of the court holds the ball. The entire court is never shown in a single shot, so this constant motion may initially be dizzying to some players. The characters and ball have a floaty feel, seeming suspended in midair for the moment before a spike. 

There is plenty of spoken dialogue, though only purists will appreciate that it's in Japanese with English subtitles. A varied background of music is provided, with a default program that includes Bob Dylan, Christina Aguilera, and more. The player's own list of MP3s can be selected from the inbuilt hard drive as well. Strangely, the beaches' day and night settings have their own playlists, requiring players to select their tunes more than once. The game's ability to randomly shuffle through the playlist also seems handicapped, instead working through the songs in sequential order. 

I am not thrilled by media which objectifies and denigrates women. Yet for a young man to like pretty girls isn't perverse; it's healthy. Overall, I found this game to be more a source of mirth than anything else. I will keep DOAXBV in my game library not only to pursue amassing all the collectible items its shops offer, but for the same reason I kept the PlayStation game Spice World: to occasionally show to friends, who will exclaim, "I can't believe they made a game like that."

---

This article is copyright (c) 2003, 2007 by Ken Gagne. All rights reserved. Not to be distributed without permission.

Original publication: Sentinel & Enterprise, 03-Feb-03

Title	:	Rygar: The Legendary Adventure
Platforms	:	Sony PlayStation 2
Publisher	:	Tecmo
ESRB Rating	:	Teen
Game Rating	:	7.6
Review by	:	Ken Gagne

In olden days of yore existed a hero of myth, who set forth on a legendary journey. His name was not Hercules; it was Rygar, and he was beloved by the few people who knew his name. It was the mid-Eighties on the original Nintendo system that Rygar first ventured forth. 

Today, Rygar lives again on the PlayStation 2, thanks to publisher Tecmo. This time, his tale is more firmly rooted in Greek mythology, making contemporaries of Athens, Zeus, Aristotle, and demons who speak in metaphors much too obtuse for a video game. Players guide this gladiator on a quest to save his princess and his land from the hands of the Titans' ancient evil. 

When a game is updated after this long a hibernation, only trace elements of the original can be retained. Here, the Diskarmor reappears as the weapon of choice. This flail-like spinning shield comes in several flavors, each with its own range, repertoire, and ability to summon a unique monster to inflict special damage. Players will find all three Diskarmors quickly, allowing them to upgrade and switch between them as they see fit. As Rygar grows in abilities, so will his Diskarmor, doubling as a grappling hook, pulley, and other devices necessary to proceed. There are a few discrete areas, but mostly the game is set in one continuous world through which Rygar can backtrack to open new areas as his talents increase. 

This 3D adventure game features plenty of running around, some exploration, and a bit of fighting. Overall, it focuses on the juvenile pursuit of destroying everything in sight; players will spend more time smashing statuary than fighting fiends. The rewards for such destruction affect gameplay and environment little: for example, Rygar can demolish supporting pillars without the roof suffering any loss of structural integrity. 

Even the monsters have more quantity than quality on their side, coming at Rygar in waves that must be cleared to progress. But when our brave adventurer stumbles upon a boss — and such encounters happen suddenly enough to warrant stumbling — he'll find himself challenged by monsters of titanic and lethal proportions. These gargantuan opponents wield many and powerful attacks, sometimes cascading them in unavoidable combos — essentially kicking a man when he's down. These confrontations are reminiscent of classic video games that first seem impossible, but where persistence and practice show the way to victory. If the challenges tossed our legendary hero's way prove unconquerable, players are offered the option of decreasing the difficulty setting. 

The camera angle is dramatic, highlighting the beautiful and ancient world Rygar inhabits. Running water and golden sunsets decorate his environs, though other times, the white marble palaces seem a bit flat and unadorned. Artifacts of some effects can remain as Rygar moves, causing players to question that brief glimmer they thought they saw. And why, if the Ionic columned architecture reflects on the marble surfaces, does Rygar himself cast no such reflection? 

The penalty for these dramatic angles is that they change too abruptly — a nasty habit Rygar shares with Devil May Cry. Gamers must suddenly reorient their controllers to a new direction in order to keep Rygar's movement consistent. This sudden switching of angles during combat can cause a temporary and fatal loss of control. 

Rygar doesn't try very hard to live up to its predecessor, but instead borrows its name and some components to compose a new adventure. Though it's a fun game, it's also a basic and short one, with innovation and name enough to keep players interested for awhile. Thank the gods for Diskarmor! 

---

This article is copyright (c) 2002, 2007 by Ken Gagne. All rights reserved. Not to be distributed without permission.

Original publication: Sentinel & Enterprise, 09-Dec-02

Title	:	Fatal Frame
Platforms	:	Sony PlayStation 2, Microsoft Xbox
Publisher	:	Tecmo
ESRB Rating	:	Mature
Game Rating	:	7.6
Review by	:	Ken Gagne

Generations ago, Native Americans refused to have their pictures taken, believing cameras could possess their souls. More civilized folk scoffed at them, but never proved them wrong. 

Good thing for us; that belief grants salvation in Fatal Frame, a PlayStation 2 and Microsoft Xbox survival-horror game from Tecmo. [PS2 version reviewed here.] 

It's 1986 Japan. Somewhere in the world, Ryo Hazuki is petting kittens, drinking sodas, and seeking his father's murderer. But on the grounds of the abandoned Himuro mansion, a famous novelist has disappeared, followed shortly by Mafuyu, his journalist pupil. Miku, Mafuyu's sister, will be the next victim unless players can safely guide her and rescue her brother from the haunted mansion. 

Haunted — by a gaggle of ghosts that would like nothing better than for Miku to join their ranks. Fortunately, she's armed with some mysticism herself: a powerful, antique camera. When a ghost attacks, gameplay switches to first-person perspective, where Miku's photography skill will determine her fate against these shutter-shy spooks. Taking an up-close and well-centered shot can banish the spirit to the netherworld, earning Miku thousands of points, while a nervously poor picture will have little effect. Points can be spent to upgrade the camera, and more powerful film can be found throughout the mansion. 

Mistake neither the poltergeists nor the protagonist for Resident Evil cast members. The ghosts are not zombies: they rarely appear in swarms and are not easily disposed. Spirits are bound by neither the limitations of the physical world nor the rules of fair play, and are frustrating adversaries. They can float through walls, or suddenly disappear from one location and reappear somewhere entirely inconvenient. Even a single spectre is sufficiently sinister to slaughter our star, who is surely an accidental heroine; Miku is more Japanese schoolgirl than Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Though the ghosts are spooky, they're also somewhat generic and, being non-corporeal, less threatening than real monsters. They'd like us to believe otherwise, but the worst they can do to Miku is drain her life bar and slap a "Game Over" on the screen. There's hardly a drop of fresh blood in the game. 

The rest of the gameplay is the stuff of generic survival horror: solving puzzles, finding keys, and the like. Since little can be accomplished in the company of the undead, the atmosphere shifts between fighting and exploring moods. Fatal Frame taxes the memory as players are required to backtrack to find new items in old areas, or indulge in a photo shoot to open locked doors. The slightly foreign architecture may confuse some gamers, but fortunately, clues are often handy to lead the way. There's plenty of required reading, giving the environment a rich background but also making the game more academic than horrific. 

The mansion is viewed from a mix of static and dynamic perspectives, similar in fashion to Silent Hill, but without the graininess or fog found in that game. Some visual static is introduced during full-motion video sequences as Miku becomes aware of things normal people would miss. 

The Himuro estate is not at all akin to the psychologically deficient Silent Hill, or violent Raccoon City. It's a typical-looking house with no blood-caked walls or ransacked rooms. If it weren't for the poor lighting and occasional state of disrepair — and, well, the countless tortured souls of flesh-hungry undead — it would be quite nice. 

The lack of background music focuses on the ghosts' creepy moans, making a frantic situation tenser. Even as they throttle Miku, they can be heard to cry, "Help me!" The spirits become more agitated should she attempt to run away. In contrast, the words of the living are articulate and rehearsed — that is, stiff and unnatural. 

Fatal Frame doesn't offer many staples of the survival horror genre, making it unique among its survival-horror contemporaries. It does not try to imitate them, but instead provides a more slowly paced adventure with a fuller history and less surprising environment. Players are unlikely to experience Fatal Frame as "the scariest game ever", as the box claims. 

Fatal Frame is innovative, but when faced with a ghost, I can think of better things to wield than a camera.

---

This article is copyright (c) 2002, 2007 by Ken Gagne. All rights reserved. Not to be distributed without permission.

Original publication: Sentinel & Enterprise, 11-Mar-02

Title	:	Fatal Frame
Platforms	:	Sony PlayStation 2, Microsoft Xbox
Publisher	:	Tecmo
ESRB Rating	:	Mature
Game Rating	:	7.6
Review by	:	Ken Gagne

Generations ago, Native Americans refused to have their pictures taken, believing cameras could possess their souls. More civilized folk scoffed at them, but never proved them wrong. 

Good thing for us; that belief grants salvation in Fatal Frame, a PlayStation 2 and Microsoft Xbox survival-horror game from Tecmo. [PS2 version reviewed here.] 

It's 1986 Japan. Somewhere in the world, Ryo Hazuki is petting kittens, drinking sodas, and seeking his father's murderer. But on the grounds of the abandoned Himuro mansion, a famous novelist has disappeared, followed shortly by Mafuyu, his journalist pupil. Miku, Mafuyu's sister, will be the next victim unless players can safely guide her and rescue her brother from the haunted mansion. 

Haunted — by a gaggle of ghosts that would like nothing better than for Miku to join their ranks. Fortunately, she's armed with some mysticism herself: a powerful, antique camera. When a ghost attacks, gameplay switches to first-person perspective, where Miku's photography skill will determine her fate against these shutter-shy spooks. Taking an up-close and well-centered shot can banish the spirit to the netherworld, earning Miku thousands of points, while a nervously poor picture will have little effect. Points can be spent to upgrade the camera, and more powerful film can be found throughout the mansion. 

Mistake neither the poltergeists nor the protagonist for Resident Evil cast members. The ghosts are not zombies: they rarely appear in swarms and are not easily disposed. Spirits are bound by neither the limitations of the physical world nor the rules of fair play, and are frustrating adversaries. They can float through walls, or suddenly disappear from one location and reappear somewhere entirely inconvenient. Even a single spectre is sufficiently sinister to slaughter our star, who is surely an accidental heroine; Miku is more Japanese schoolgirl than Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Though the ghosts are spooky, they're also somewhat generic and, being non-corporeal, less threatening than real monsters. They'd like us to believe otherwise, but the worst they can do to Miku is drain her life bar and slap a "Game Over" on the screen. There's hardly a drop of fresh blood in the game. 

The rest of the gameplay is the stuff of generic survival horror: solving puzzles, finding keys, and the like. Since little can be accomplished in the company of the undead, the atmosphere shifts between fighting and exploring moods. Fatal Frame taxes the memory as players are required to backtrack to find new items in old areas, or indulge in a photo shoot to open locked doors. The slightly foreign architecture may confuse some gamers, but fortunately, clues are often handy to lead the way. There's plenty of required reading, giving the environment a rich background but also making the game more academic than horrific. 

The mansion is viewed from a mix of static and dynamic perspectives, similar in fashion to Silent Hill, but without the graininess or fog found in that game. Some visual static is introduced during full-motion video sequences as Miku becomes aware of things normal people would miss. 

The Himuro estate is not at all akin to the psychologically deficient Silent Hill, or violent Raccoon City. It's a typical-looking house with no blood-caked walls or ransacked rooms. If it weren't for the poor lighting and occasional state of disrepair — and, well, the countless tortured souls of flesh-hungry undead — it would be quite nice. 

The lack of background music focuses on the ghosts' creepy moans, making a frantic situation tenser. Even as they throttle Miku, they can be heard to cry, "Help me!" The spirits become more agitated should she attempt to run away. In contrast, the words of the living are articulate and rehearsed — that is, stiff and unnatural. 

Fatal Frame doesn't offer many staples of the survival horror genre, making it unique among its survival-horror contemporaries. It does not try to imitate them, but instead provides a more slowly paced adventure with a fuller history and less surprising environment. Players are unlikely to experience Fatal Frame as "the scariest game ever", as the box claims. 

Fatal Frame is innovative, but when faced with a ghost, I can think of better things to wield than a camera.

---

This article is copyright (c) 2002, 2007 by Ken Gagne. All rights reserved. Not to be distributed without permission.

Original publication: Sentinel & Enterprise, 11-Mar-02