The Last of Us left me looking at my game shelf in the same way you might stare into an abyss. Having finished Naughty Dog's crowing PS3 achievement I've been searching for something that would match up, and it's not been easy. Resident Evil 6 was clearly a terrible choice, so that's now been benched (quite possibly forever), and I've borrowed a copy of Mass Effect.
Over the years I've bought the second and third games in the series, assuming that I simply wouldn't get on with the more old-school gameplay offered in the original, but on advice I'm playing through all three. First impressions are that BioWare's Xbox 360 debut holds up pretty well despite its age, and the dialogue and delivery is still leagues ahead of most the competition. It's too soon to say if it'll hold my attention until its conclusion, but I'm hopeful as I've got two more games sat on my shelf waiting for their turn.
This week, Chris Bratt made me play Mount Your Friends, an indie game that awaits you on Xbox Live Marketplace. Genuinely one of the strangest things I've ever experienced in my life, it asks that you climb up a goat – this is not a joke – and hit the start button when you get to the highest point you feel you can.
This is obviously rather easy when you start off – you're merely attempting to get atop the stationary animal – but once you, and your friends, have made a few attempts, there's the small matter of climbing up their torsos as well. If this sounds insane then you've probably got the gist of it because, frankly, Mount Your Friends is other worldly. Throw in that the controls are designed to be rather fiddly and you've got a game that you'll only ever understand properly when you sit down and play it.
I may never get over it...
Confession time: I always thought Square's 'masterpiece' was a tad overrated. I certainly didn't think it was the greatest game of all time, as some people were suggesting. But then, I was only 11 years old when Final Fantasy VII first rolled out, and my idea of a good time was pushing buttons to make dogs rap with onion men in Parappa The Rapper or running away from boulders in Crash Bandicoot, rather than getting tangled up in tales of love and betrayal.
Going back to it 16 years later, though, it soon becomes pretty apparent that the game's themes and narrative washed straight over me as a kid. I have a much greater understanding of what it all means now: I can relate to the characters and empathise with their circumstances, and I view some in entirely different ways – Cloud isn't the hero I remember him being, but a cold, self-centred mercenary. So though I'm still far from finishing it, looking back on it, maybe you were right. Maybe Final Fantasy VII is the greatest game of all time – or one of the most influential, important and touching, at least.
After missing it at E3, I decided to have a little go of Killzone: Shadow Fall at a recent Sony event. In fairness, it's not as bad as I was anticipating, but it's still very dull. Which is surprising, seeing as Far Cry 3's influence is all over it (zip-lines and watchtowers), but there's just something missing from it at the moment.
It's better than Drive Club, though. F**k me - that's the most boring game I've ever played.