By Anna Merlan
By Keegan Hamilton
By Albert Samaha
By Darwin BondGraham
By Keegan Hamilton
By Anna Merlan
By Anna Merlan
By Tessa Stuart
Even if you think of something other than layups and living large when you hear the word ballin', this intersection of inner-city street and gated-community boulevard will make you see how sexy shooting baskets can be. Because besides the baskets, youre shooting for the starsor, at least, diamonds that twinkle worlds away. The inevitability of Ballers' rags-toRoca Wear narrative is perfectly tailored to gaming's try-try-try-again notion of progress: Choose your look, from which pant leg you roll up to how you cock your cap; improve your specific attributes every time you attempt a block, three-pointer, or wild street move; watch the money pile up, and likewise, your sideline clique grow; and ultimately, outfit a crib in which to play, and more importantly, show off online. Hey, can't knock the hustle.
And hustle you'll have to. One-on-one, or one-on-one-on-one, you've got to bring grimy, round-the-way Harlem Globetrotters game: Alley-oop with help from the audience, leap off chests of your fave or least favorite NBA starspast and present, all properly tattooed and executing signature movesor rip down the entire backboard after hitting a hot streak playing street legends like Hot Sauce. In keeping with the keeping-up-appearances theme, everything from corn rows to custom courts (based on those in players real pads) looks fantastic, smooth, and detailed. Like the sport itself, you can easily start a pickup game, or put all your timeand high hopesinto it. Playing D, of course, isnt nearly as fun.
The cinema's about as gripping as any recent Bond, which is to say not at all. But the seamless actionnow presented in third personis spit-shined and ever shifting. You'll pass through Egypt, Peru, New Orleans, and Moscow, crouching, sniping, rappelling, remote-controlling cars and bombs, and driving weaponized motorcycles and Porsche SUVs. And you have "Bond Sense." And you can become invisible. But that's it.
FATAL FRAME 2: CRIMSON BUTTERFLY
The delicate underage twins who drift through this high-minded survival update imperil themselves all too pornographically but pop flashbulbs instead of the typical FPS plasma phallus. As Mio, you follow Mayu into a post-massacre phantasmagoriaa black, fast-cut creepfest equal to most Hollywood horrorcapturing lost souls on your camera obscura while picking up clues like newspaper clippings. There are no bosses to pelt, and the puzzles and plot kinks keep you looking over your shoulder rather than shooting from the hip.
FIGHT NIGHT 2004
(EAPS2, Xbox) 8 Only this game allows you to experience both sides of Muhammad Alis swing. Mashing buttons is out: The right analog stick controls whether you block, jab, or uppercut, and how hard you punch; you dance with the left, and turn using the triggers. As Ali himself once said, If they can make penicillin out of moldy bread, they can sure make something out of you.
FINAL FANTASY: CRYSTAL CHRONICLES
This Final Fantasy experiment, dreamed up by market-hungry Nintendo, introduces a multiplayer mode requiring Game Boys. Loyalists will be disappointed if they attempt this threadbare adventure alone. But up to four chums, substituting GBs for controllers, will cooperate and competeand be forced to communicatein a way that redefines the term role-play. Fulfill individual bonus objectives to progress ahead of your partnersthose bastards!
METAL GEAR SOLID: THE TWIN SNAKES
The best this consolidation of now classic Metal Gear Solid and its sequel can do is keep up with the Bonds and Clancys. Driven by a tweaked sneak-and-snipe engine that allows you to hang off ledges and switch from third-to first-personwhile hijacked-nuke-facility guards track the bodies you leave behind, and call for backupit actually chases down this year's models.
METROID: ZERO MISSION
(NintendoGameBoy Advance) 8
Twenty years ago, fans of Metroid for NES suited up on Planet Zebes, blasted Skeeters, chipped away at Ridley and Kraid, and finally outsmarted Mother Brain. Today, America's 20 million GBA owners can suit up on Planet Zebes, blast Skeeters, chip away at Ridley and Kraid, and finally outsmart Mother Brainon the subway! (I once saw a hobo do this without a GameBoy.)
MVP BASEBALL 2004
(EA SportsPS2, Xbox) 9
This series turnaround is stacked with the entire MLBPA and minor league, has a hyper-realistic bead on baseball's fundamental mechanics, and encourages you to sim your way through a season as manager. By porting the game's history and allowing you to lead your club many years into the future, the disc makes a poetic argument for declaring the de facto American sportconsole gamingour official pastime.
(THQPS2, Xbox) 8
There's a thousand and one ways to make an ass of yourself in what is the funnest race-trick-crash blowout since last holiday season's SSX 3. The game thrills like few other white-trash sports titles, mostly because you can launch off jumps into the propellers of passing helicopters. I'd like to see Al Qaeda do that with a donkey.
NEED FOR SPEED UNDERGROUND
(Electronic ArtsGameCube, PC, PS2, Xbox) 8
The newest Need for Speed introduces the novel ability to exoticize your crappy base-model with conspicuously sporty aftermarket parts, like spoilers. (And I don't mean car-safety guru Ralph Nader.) Engine ups and nitrous tanks unlock automatically, but hustling style-points by drifting around corners and landing jumps opens almost infinite combinations of superficial customizations. No spinners, thoughrace designers have yet to reinvent the wheel.