Battlestations: Pacific

Stevie has that sinking feeling

More Images

When it comes to category choice and gameplay variety on the retail shelf, some may say there aren't nearly enough titles that strive to depart from the staid safety that comes with first-person shooters, third-person action adventures, high-octane racers, and layered role-playing games. That's safety for the gamer, insofar as they know what they're getting in a world where software is growing steadily more expensive, and safety for the publisher, where taking a risk on originality can often prove to be nothing short of profit suicide.

Choice and variety aren't completely dead of course, and plenty of critically acclaimed titles that break from the norm have attempted to attract gamers in the recent past. However, media plaudits doesn't always translate to bulging coffers for the publisher, which is why the creativity of games such as LittleBigPlanet, Spore, LocoRoco, and Patapon has largely failed to draw both consumers and creators away from tried and tested genre categories that deliver a worthy return on investment.

But then there's the frustrating Battlestations series from Eidos Interactive, which attempts to straddle familiarity with originality by marrying real-time World War II tactics and a massive selection of weaponised vehicles with studied pacing, drawn out conflicts, and core gameplay that requires effective decision making as opposed to visceral thrills and flashing thumbs.

Eidos Interactive deserves to be generously applauded and then heavily slapped about the face and neck for Battlestations: Pacific, which, much like its disappointing Midway predecessor, shows the publisher is just about brave enough to craft a game that carves and fills its own niche, while clearly unwilling to throw its full weight behind the product because it fears that filling a niche is all it's ever likely to achieve.

Developed through Eidos Hungary, Battlestations: Pacific's sumptuous rendered sequences and grandiose staging in the Pacific theatre initially promise to re-create the historic struggle waged between the United States and Japan following the latter's attack on Pearl Harbor in December of 1941. And therein lies the problem with Battlestations: Pacific... it breaks promises at every turn and attempts to hide its obvious shortfalls amid the confusion caused by ever-changing but half-baked gameplay styles, lacklustre and unresponsive vehicles, and wholly unrewarding missions.

Assuming the third-person or in-cockpit role of a U.S. or Japanese fighter/bomber pilot is semi-exhilarating while swooping and strafing against enemy fighters, or diving and dodging the attentions of ship-mounted AK-AK gun batteries. Yet it's often the case that plane-based controls feel disconcertingly heavy and lack the prerequisite oomph that should be in evidence when going toe-to-toe against fighter aces or plunging vertically through exploding clouds of white-hot shrapnel on a bombing run. However, despite the relative disappointment gleaned from the action in the air, it's when players attempt to find their sea legs that Battlestations: Pacific lists dangerously and starts taking on worrying amounts of water.

For example, actual third-person control of cruisers, destroyers, aircraft carriers and submarines, is mind-numbingly laborious and sees players needing to view proceedings from a drawn back camera angle that unfortunately leaves ship models resembling little more than poorly defined toy boats in a rather dull and unconvincing bathtub. In order to distract attention from the ugly aesthetics and incredibly sluggish navigation, Eidos Hungary offers up plenty of strategic command distribution involving the dispersal of torpedoes, depth charges, deck artillery, and flak guns, while invisible crew members must also be directed to attend to fire damage, water pumps, and engine problems. Yet, despite the frenetic thumb work required to issue such commands and maintain player participation in battles, the resulting action is so unbearably protracted amid the cloying control mechanic that any semblance of genuine entertainment is swiftly sucked from the experience.