With Japanese dominance of game development, I’m used to exposure from foreign cultural influences. Still, I couldn’t help but suffer a sense of culture shock from developer Team Soho’s The Getaway. Thick cockney accents further mystify English phrases like beer and cockles and spilt claret - and subtitles don’t help. Such consummate British essence serves only to underscore the sweet harmony of unique game design and production that - to put it plainly - make The Getaway awesome.
It’s obvious from the get-go that when Team Soho set out to design The Getaway they aimed to create a cinematic experience to express a developed underworld plot. Following the plight of ex-gang cohort and quasi-hero Mark Hammond, the story puts Mark in the thorny position of obeying an old rival to save the life of his kidnapped son. Without spoiling anything, it’s safe to say that the plot is involving enough to push the game along; though even with a few twists it never gets too convoluted.
What makes The Getaway unique is the vision from which it spawned. Designed from the ground up around the idea of a seamless movie-like experience, The Getaway proves that Convention isn’t the only school of game design. To keep an unspoiled presentation, Team Soho crafted fresh gameplay mechanics to replace what they call “arcade leftovers,” such as on-screen indicators, health bars, and anything else that isn’t immediately relevant to the game world. And while the innovated design is often cryptic and almost distracting, it’s the way everything comes together that justifies the discomfort of adjusting to gameplay that is decidedly not average. I think it’s all brilliant.
While navigating London’s streets in a boosted motor - that’s a stolen car, for the Britishly challenged - there is no gleaming arrow or omniscient map to point to the destination. Creatively, the turn signals on the car hint in the general direction of the goal, and it’s left to the driver to envision and steer a course through the bustling metropolis. Without a grasp of the city’s layout, it’s easy to be misguided by the often unclear turn signals. With a bit of learning, however, this subtle guidance is just enough to make the objective possible, and works seamlessly with the engrossing game world of The Getaway.
Aside from the absence of helpful arrows, more omissions from the in-game interface will no doubt puzzle new players. Health bars, a luxury taken for granted in modern games, are completely forsaken in The Getaway. Instead, Mark Hammond shows physical decay as he nears death, progressing from a healthy trot to a strained limp after taking a load of enemy bullets. There are no health pickups to restore the damaged champion. Alternatively, leaning against a wall for respite will slowly revive him, and while stopping to rest can slow the pace of the game, the intensity of most scenes makes pausing, even for a second, an exercise in risk. Other traditional gameplay elements are similarly redesigned in unconventional (and often unintuitive) fashion - there is no visual ammo meter, and the only clue that a time limit is almost spent is the excited pace of the music - and the sum of the parts is a definitively unique and immersive experience that plays awesome.
Rounding out The Getaway’s raptness, both aural and visual aspects are exceptionally well executed. The game’s music is consistent throughout, with dynamic rhythms and beats that don’t just play ignored in the background. The voice acting also follows a path of excellence, with great voices, writing, and direction. And while most of the plot is delivered between levels, Mark Hammond often mutters bits to himself during the heat of gameplay, making the transition from cut scenes to gameplay smooth and seamless. To further unite the cut scenes and gameplay, the entire story is presented with in-game graphics and animation - and that’s a good thing, especially considering how good The Getaway looks. Smooth animation and character models look perfectly at home with the detailed city textures and vehicle models, and while a few graphical bugs persist it’s still impressive to see the hardware pushed this far.
The Getaway plays out across twenty-four missions, combining intense driving scenes with on-foot infiltration of venues that range from gang hideouts to seedy dance clubs. The driving scenes are particularly well done, as Team Soho has meticulously recreated the real-life city of London. The streets are open to roam, although gameplay progresses in a linear fashion, moving from each mission to the next, segued with snippets of the game’s driving plot. Driving to the mission’s goal is always kept exciting, as dense traffic, the persistent filth (cops), and vengeful gangs combine their efforts to create havoc. To keep the game flowing, most driving scenes are limited by time, restricting exploration of the sprawling cityscape, though a free roam mode can be unlocked after playing through the missions.
To complete the driving scenes, the vehicle physics in The Getaway are surprisingly well done. The various cars that litter urban London all have a feel of their own, from speedy sports cars to sluggish station wagons, and the anarchy of any given situation will often force the use of a less-than-desirable car. Pushing a jalopy to its absolute limits exacerbates the pandemonium of driving, and scrambling for a new motor to jack is rarely an easy undertaking. And though The Getaway’s driving portions may be the obvious highlight of the game, their excitement gives way only to the equally frenzied on-foot segments and tense shootouts.
Marching through London on foot, Mark Hammond is regularly at odds and outnumbered as a wanted man by both the police and enemy gangs. Unfortunately, The Getaway doesn’t handle the on-foot portions of the game as brilliantly as the driving, as rough controls hinder the game’s excellence. Instead of smoothly navigating the frequently narrow levels, Mark sort of plods through unnaturally. Luckily, the game’s lock-on aiming helps make tense shootouts not just bearable but thrilling and fun. Guns are frequently emptied of ammo, making it always essential to pick up the dropped weapons from fallen foes in a scramble for bullets. And though Mark is usually left packing a pair of pistols, he can pick up AK-47s and powerful shotguns along the way to abet the slaughter of criminals and law enforcement officers.
Perhaps the biggest fault with The Getaway’s on-foot controls is how limited they are. The only way to move around the locales is to run or walk--there is no jumping or climbing - and the game automatically mandates when Mark can sprint and when he can’t. It’s slightly frustrating and definitely unnatural. But not being able to sprint at will doesn’t horrifically mar the experience, though the game takes liberties at automating other actions that should be manual. Picking up new weapons is automatic as Mark runs over them, which might be fine if he could carry more than one weapon at a time. Unfortunately, the automation can cause frustration in cramped quarters when Mark continues to drop a shotgun in favor of an assault rifle, though the shotgun is definitely favored for the situation. The general automation of The Getaway’s controls makes it an easy game to grasp, but causes too much aggravation and unarguably should have been executed more intuitively.
Despite these conspicuous control hitches, the overall experience of The Getaway is what warrants praise. With primo voice acting in the spirit of Guy Ritchie films, seamless story telling, and gameplay void of anything to painfully remind players that they’re playing a video game, The Getaway sets itself apart as a peerless experience that’s easy to love. It’s definitely not perfect, but few games these days are crafted with the focus and the worthy direction that define The Getaway. And I guarantee it’ll be a while before I hear beer and cockles again…anywhere.
· · · MarkRyan