GRADE: D-
Call of Juarez: The Cartel is like a really good drug.
In the beginning it looks like a great group activity and you can easily ignore the side effects, but like any bad trip Cartel heads south quick. Before you know it, you're lost, confused and can't remember why you started in the first place.
But this isn't Call of Juarez's first time on the street. No, The Cartel represents developer Techland's third attempt to contribute a game to the densely-packed first-person shooter genre. This attempt being the least formidable contender of the bunch.
The game lacks many fundamental gameplay mechanics that make its competitors so successful, and although it hit shelves only one week ago, The Cartel feels outright dated.
From the lack of a true cover system to a completely illogical button layout, Juarez is likely barking up the wrong tree for most gamers. Firefights, the center point of the game, often feel like a clunky PS2 shooter more than they do frenetic tactical combat.
Even the artificial intelligence (A.I.) knows there's a problem. When it isn't berating the player for his or her lack of firearm skill, the NPCs have a polarized response of "Hey, leave some for us." Besides being unable to correctly assess a player's proficiency, the A.I. manages to misread the battlefield every chance it gets. "This area's clear!" it shouts, as a thug on a machine gun puts round after round into its chest.
Moreover, the game only proceeds to worsen after the bullet storm. Cutscenes have a script that, taken out of context, seems both racist and idiotic. At times it feels like a child wrote the entire game, and Cartel's often misspelled subtitles only furthers that theory.
The game's protagonists are law enforcement agents of varying degrees, but at times they seem more like thugs than the actual officers they're meant to portray. Players are given a choice of three "incredibly unique" (Read: No play-style difference) characters. Ben McCall, the rough, gruff member of the LAPD, supposedly claims specialty over revolvers and heavy machine guns, while Kim Evans represents the FBI and rocks the realm of the rifle. In game however, neither of these claims are supported.
Then there's Eddie, a Drug Enforcement Administration officer who spends more time involved in the sale of drugs than he does trying to put a stop to them. He's as crooked as this game's half-baked plot.
After the game's explosive opening, the mission is clear: destroy the Cartelthrough clear, unbridled inter-gang warfare. This, however, will be a challenge as, like any good Tony Montana rip-off, the Cartel's got its hands in a plethora of extremely illegal (and some quite laughable) activities.
Players will traverse every imaginable terrain south-of-the-border, from dense national forests to ragged Mexican ghost towns to the always-charming ghettos full of stereotyped angry inhabitants.
Some of the most unforgettable set pieces are the many strip clubs that inhabit the world. Graphic? Yes. Unnecessary? Probably. But if Duke Nukem Forever can do it, Call of Juarez was not to be out-exposed.
But beyond the game's subpar graphics, terribly scripted dialogue, dysfunctional controls and atrocious A.I., the game just isn't that much fun. Players who invest the eight hours of in-game time to beat the title feel worse than when they picked it up, and for that the game just can't stand on its own two feet.
Buggy characters both online and offline shatter any hope of redemption. While the game's online mode is acceptable, a standard death-match just doesn't cut it in 2011. While this experience is one best left unshared, players can't even do so on the same screen; a total miss for gamers still lacking a not entirely ubiquitous online connection.
Whether the game's mistake was moving the series from a western shooter to Modern Warfare contender, or the serious lack of polish that makes the game feel half-complete, the end result is more misery than anything else. And while the game has a lot of substance, none of it is truly worth playing. The Cartel is one title best left in the discount box.
Email: arts@ubspectrum.com
