Stuntman Review

Director’s Commentary
Believe it or not stuntman was my preferred career choice, although one cruelly denied by Vaderishly chronic asthma. Still, meeting stunt veteran Vic Armstrong during the game’s PR drive and thinking “Wow – if things were as they should be, you’d be my boss!” was pleasantly surreal. The game itself throws up the eternal conundrum of how to rate single-player software whose negative aspects shift into the positive when tackled in company. Should you give a title credit for being accidentally subject to the communal human capacity for creating our own fun?

…

Nah.

Stuntman

PlayStation 2 | Published by: Infogrames | Developed by: Reflections

“I’m ideal for this review!” insisted Mark, “After all, I’m a right stunning cu… oh, hang on I got that wrong…” Sure.

When you’re spending £35 on a game it’s important to know what you’re getting. As far as accurately descriptive titles go Stuntman comes close but won’t be chomping on a cigar, Colt Seavers style, as it sinks into a suddy bubble bath any time soon. Stunt*car* would have been more accurate, y’see, because as an “evolution” of Driver, the game is singularly focused on wheel-bound lunacy as opposed to fake fighting, diving head-first through faux glass or being set on fire.

The quotation marks around the word evolution aren’t evil, sarcastic ones though, just a reflection (no pun intended) of the game’s comparatively linear nature: Whereas the Driver series places its emphasis firmly on freedom of movement by providing distanced targets and a plethora of possible routes, Stuntman offers an inverted experience by demanding you hit a plethora of targets, each distanced minimally from one another along a strictly prescribed path. It’s all part of the job, or jobs rather, so let’s begin by looking at those shall we? Come on…

Spoofing established movie genres (and, where it can, specific films and TV programmes), Stuntman tracks your career(ing) through six productions, each demanding five skilful, camera-pleasing performances. As if adopting linearity as some kind of holy mantra, Stuntman only allows access to each film and its constituent japes in strict order. Presumably implemented to ensure that players encounter a properly considered difficulty curve, this approach inevitably serves to generate frustration whenever a difficulty spike is encountered. Run across a particularly annoying challenge, which you will, and you’ve no alternate way of proceeding other than continually plugging away until you eventually succeed or give up. Now this might not sound too bad on paper – the bosses in practically every shoot-‘em-up ever present deliberate, sequentially ordered difficulty spikes after all, and nobody complains about those. But given that Stuntman presents such an abundance of ways to totally muck up each shoot, such a model of progression becomes deeply questionable once you factor in the core reliance upon trial and error.

No, don’t wretch quite so violently at the term… trial and error isn’t necessarily bad; it practically *made* Spy Hunter the game it is by drawing players into the whole exploratory side of proceedings. But the context here is “stunt man”, as in “everything I do is strictly pre-planned down to the finest detail”, so it does jar to discover that, despite each scene being explained prior to your participation, you begin each level practically clueless about exactly where you’ll be commanded to go and what you’ll be asked to do. And although there’s a certain excitement to what is, in essence, audio-driven “twitch” gameplay, you’ll end up blaming the fact that your orders are barked at the last moment for your failure far more regularly than appreciating how exhilarating it has made your life. A fly-through of each level, complete with orders, would have sufficed – then you’d know the game-plan before setting off, wouldn’t get lost during the poorly-directed bits and might, conceivably, feel like an actual stuntman; as it is, the distinct impression that the game’s longevity has been artificially extended at the expense of a fair ride for the player looms large. Tsk.

Of course, the reason for this is an altogether more valiant attempt by Reflections to ensure that playing Stuntman is nothing like actually being one, in the shape of having to complete entire multi-stunt scenes in a single take. The logic is understandable – with the real-life practise of filming an exciting sequence section-by-section invariably damning any extended flow of action, the decision to forsake reality in preference of continuous lunacy is, on one level, eminently laudable . But it does beg the question – if you don’t think the nature of a stuntman’s job will facilitate interesting play, why base a game around it in the first place?

The answer, of course, is that the kind of things a stuntman does – screeching around corners at breakneck speeds, jumping off quay-fronts onto barges, all that gaff – translate perfectly; yet the wider trappings of the role naturally lead away from what is safe, proven and familiar to developers and, pertinently, publishers. Reflections’ caution at straying too far from established racing mores might be as forgivable as it is disappointing, but it’s certainly closed the doors on some design avenues P2 would have loved to see explored: How interesting it would have been, for example, to have only a finite number of props for each sequence and a certain amount of film, and then to be judged in terms of continuity – have you partially wrecked one car for shot 1 then had to use a noticeably new vehicle for shot 2? – as well as simply having gotten from A to B to C…to Z.

Despite Stuntman’s gross linearity and mere lip-service to its subject matter, P2 must admit to being initially enthralled by our quest for saloon-slinging supremacy. Yes, it is bloody annoying having to wait for the level to reload after each and every (sometimes five second-long) failure, but you know it’s doable so you just have to have that last attempt in order to prove it. No, sorry, not that last attempt… that one doesn’t count, I mean thi… no, er, messed it up again – no way that counts either, but I swear that this is my last go for now. Honest.

And the effect is twofold in company. Despite being an ostensibly single-player game, Stuntman pushes all the right psychological buttons as you desperately attempt to memorise each potentially fatal section of track that your mates encounter first. Torn between hoping they’ll muck it up and your desire to glean a sufficiently complete preview, the emotional road to breaking a scene before anybody else is as fraught with turmoil as the hazard-laden shoots themselves. Applied to this situation, the game’s previous shortcoming – namely failing to prepare drivers and encouraging trial and error – can be seen in a new, eminently more favourable light. Suffice to say, it’s worth waiting for a co-driver to become available before romping through Stuntman for the very first time… you’ll enjoy the experience much, much more as a consequence.

The difficulty curve won’t suit everyone though. Driver veterans will enjoy a distinct advantage over rookies as the physics model and engine, whilst doubtlessly tweaked, are obviously direct descendants of previous instalments. The trademarked, weighty feel of vehicles which greeted P2 in the preview build does seem somewhat lessened in the PAL release however, although it could be the slightly slower frame-rate playing tricks with our feeble minds. Yet, off-putting as it might be to have the frame-rate chop whilst lining up a vital jump, it’s nothing you can’t compensate for… umm, mostly (thinks of a certain bike & side-car jump onto a temple roof).

Of more substantial concern is the way the game itself begins to disintegrate somewhat in its latter chapters. It’s hardly assuring, during the Conspiracy shoot for example, to have your way blocked by the hopelessly-stuck computer driver whom you’re supposed to be chasing, and it’s at this point that the oblivious-to-your-existence AI can begin to grate as powers beyond your control literally conspire against you (maybe they’re trying to be ironic, eh?) And don’t even mention the monster truck “bonus” game to us – it’s so uncompromisingly (not to mention – BOING! – unfairly) difficult and lacking in fun that we had to check the box for Raffaele Cecco’s name. And you HAVE to complete it in order to continue.

Given all this, Stuntman comes as a bit of an oddity. There are some unquestionably great gaming moments to be had in Reflections’ labour of love and playing with friends often reminds you of what gaming is really all about; yet the title also delivers some of the most tedious, repetitive and unbalanced play you will ever regret spending your life on. Given that it’s impossible to conceive of anyone who would be immune to these frustrations and that it’s generally accepted that being frustrated is not the point of videogaming, P2 can recommend Stuntman only with extreme reservations. Still, it’s worth it to jump the odd open drawbridge and roll the occasional car. Or get set on fire with Sally Field perhaps. Or blown up for Raquel Welch once or twice. Or make Eastwood look so fi…[Oh God, you just couldn’t help it, could you?! -Ed]

(Originally published in P2 magazine)