Being an unholy veteran of button mashing, million-point-combo-grabbing, reflexes-better-than-Neo skate board games, I found the Skate series to be an underwhelming upstart in the skate board world. Despite the Tony Hawk franchise racking up millions of dollars in sales, it was slowly dropping in quality over time and decided to change course for the peripheral road. While Tony Hawk was struggling to stay on its feet, in comes Skate to upper cut it while it was off-balance. As a hardcore Tony Hawk fanboy, I found this insulting and ignored both Skate and its sequel, aptly titled Skate 2.
Skate 3 came out, and I was busy throwing grenades, and ignored it for a time. Finally my curiosity reached a level that could not be ignored. And so, I borrowed Skate 3 from a friend, sat down, turned on my decrepit, slowly dying XBOX 360 Arcade, and off I went.
I am a believer.
The game started with perhaps one of the strangest introductory videos of all time, reminding me immediately of the silliness and degenerate stereotypes of the Tony Hawk games, except that it was entirely live action. And actually funny.
Off to a good start. The first thing I see my character do is attempt an unholy gap only to soar through the air and knock himself unconscious in a vicious bail. Awesome. Next thing you know, my friend Reda has spontaneously decided we're going to start our own company, and off I go to sell one million skateboards. I have my objective, simple and sweet. So how do I skate? Because I'm pressing the A button over and over again and I can't ollie.
This is where the game says "Lolrofl, meet Coach Frank." This 80's-era badass coaches me in the ways of Skate, and soon I'm popping kickflips and balancing manuals. And I have never been so defeated and helpless by a game with such intuitive mechanics. I yelled, swore, and tore my hair simply over missing simple flips. I was addicted to this oddly satisfying yet infuriating formula. However, once you become adept with the control scheme and physics, this masterfully crafted experience began to show some issues.
From hill bombs, to skate roads, to vert and street segments, this game far and away eclipses anything Tony Hawk has ever managed in the genre. Despite this, minor issues plague the flow. Minor nitpicks, yes, but frustrating nonetheless. I'll give you a short list.
1.) Why do the photo shooting segments give no retry function? For magazine covers and whatnot, it isn't that important, but I bailed trying to accomplish a godly shot for a billboard, and now a large advertisement in the middle of a heavily populated city has a picture of my shirtless hippy team mate eating gravel.
2.) Why include such a short-sighted video editor? If there was one thing that Tony Hawk did right (Proving Grounds, to be exact) it was being able to complete epic montages and wipeout videos that often left me experimenting with all sorts of options?
3.)Why are my team mates so incredibly inconsistent? One second, they dominate myself AND the competition, and the next they continuously make the same bail mistake for the length of the competition, leaving me to carry the weight?
While my other reviews have been sarcastic and often scathing, I honestly found so little wrong with this game, that I wonder at the minor issues that should have been changed in the desire to help the game flow with ease.
Skate 3 came out, and I was busy throwing grenades, and ignored it for a time. Finally my curiosity reached a level that could not be ignored. And so, I borrowed Skate 3 from a friend, sat down, turned on my decrepit, slowly dying XBOX 360 Arcade, and off I went.
I am a believer.
The game started with perhaps one of the strangest introductory videos of all time, reminding me immediately of the silliness and degenerate stereotypes of the Tony Hawk games, except that it was entirely live action. And actually funny.
Off to a good start. The first thing I see my character do is attempt an unholy gap only to soar through the air and knock himself unconscious in a vicious bail. Awesome. Next thing you know, my friend Reda has spontaneously decided we're going to start our own company, and off I go to sell one million skateboards. I have my objective, simple and sweet. So how do I skate? Because I'm pressing the A button over and over again and I can't ollie.
This is where the game says "Lolrofl, meet Coach Frank." This 80's-era badass coaches me in the ways of Skate, and soon I'm popping kickflips and balancing manuals. And I have never been so defeated and helpless by a game with such intuitive mechanics. I yelled, swore, and tore my hair simply over missing simple flips. I was addicted to this oddly satisfying yet infuriating formula. However, once you become adept with the control scheme and physics, this masterfully crafted experience began to show some issues.
From hill bombs, to skate roads, to vert and street segments, this game far and away eclipses anything Tony Hawk has ever managed in the genre. Despite this, minor issues plague the flow. Minor nitpicks, yes, but frustrating nonetheless. I'll give you a short list.
1.) Why do the photo shooting segments give no retry function? For magazine covers and whatnot, it isn't that important, but I bailed trying to accomplish a godly shot for a billboard, and now a large advertisement in the middle of a heavily populated city has a picture of my shirtless hippy team mate eating gravel.
2.) Why include such a short-sighted video editor? If there was one thing that Tony Hawk did right (Proving Grounds, to be exact) it was being able to complete epic montages and wipeout videos that often left me experimenting with all sorts of options?
3.)Why are my team mates so incredibly inconsistent? One second, they dominate myself AND the competition, and the next they continuously make the same bail mistake for the length of the competition, leaving me to carry the weight?
While my other reviews have been sarcastic and often scathing, I honestly found so little wrong with this game, that I wonder at the minor issues that should have been changed in the desire to help the game flow with ease.