Assassin’s Creed: Liberation HD Review

Originally posted on D-Pad.co.uk

Assassin’s Creed: Liberation HD is a port of the 2012 PlayStation Vita title, adding upgraded visuals and extra missions. Available on PS3, Xbox 360 and PC, this downloadable title follows the life of Aveline de Grandpré, the first female protagonist in the Assassin Creed series.

Liberation takes place in late 18th Century New Orleans around The Seven Year War and the Louisiana Rebellion of 1768. Slavery is one of the main plot points, a subject that even Hollywood wasn’t comfortable tackling until recently. Kudos goes to Ubisoft for tackling such a sensitive topic (Assassin Creeds IV’s DLC, Freedom Cry, also deals with slavery). Although, after watching the powerful 12 Years a Slave, it did feel odd seeing the slave’s plight reduced to a trivial side-quest.

In another departure from the norm, the relationship between main character Aveline and her sidekick Gerard is a deliberate 180 on traditional gender roles; Aveline is the brave warrior who drudges on – sometimes foolishly – into battle whilst cautious Gerard offers support from the sidelines. The main story, whilst intriguing, jumps erratically. This is somewhat redeemed by summaries in-between loading screens.

Prior knowledge of past Assassin’s Creed games is expected. Unfortunately, Ubisoft makes little effort to explain the greater Assassins and Templars plot, leaving many sections of the story downright baffling for newcomers.

The main story is roughly 6-8 hours long; there are also numerous side-quests to occupy the Trophy/Achievement hunters. Most of the missions are quick pick-up-and-play offerings. The much-criticized multiplayer mode from the Vita version has been removed.

Liberation’s gameplay is a departure from previous Assassin Creed games. Aveline lives with her parents and has to keep her Assassin dealings a secret from them. To circumvent this, she rotates various personas, three in total—first, the de-facto Assassin Persona, which will be familiar to anyone who has played an AC game. Second, the Lady Persona gives her the ability to ‘charm’ guards and walk around New Orleans uninterrupted. However, due to the Lady Persona’s oversized dress – and because she is a lady – Aveline can’t free run whilst in this persona. The third uniform is the Slave Persona that the heroine utilizes to go undercover in plantations and slave camps. Despite its ubiquity in advertisements and promo material, the Assassin Persona was the least used of the three outfits in my playthrough due to the high attention the Assassin colours garnered from guards. The better option when out-and-about, is the less-conspicuous Slave Persona which has all the abilities of the Assassin outfit albeit with less health and fewer weapons.

The whip is a fun new addition; unlocked halfway through the game, it allows Aveline to swing across obstacles like Spider-Man. In battle, the whip is a handy tool; with one press, you can knock an enemy off balance, leaving them open for a killer blow.

The cinematics displays Liberations Vita roots; poorly synced voiceovers and stilted faces that went unnoticed on a tiny Vita screen are all too apparent on an HDTV. Although generally, the game looks very impressive, especially the Bayou setting, Liberation HD scarcely resembles the Vita title.

Throughout my time with Assassin’s Creed series, I have become accustomed to the various glitches found in the games, but Liberation pushes that patience to its limit. In the very first minute, I encountered a glitch that caused Aveline’s legs to grow 30ft tall. In another instance, whilst climbing out of the Bayou River onto land, Aveline thought it best to continue swimming. On the grass. I had to restart the game to prevent Aveline from drowning on a tree branch.

The soundtrack is fantastic and is up to the high standard of Assassin Creed scores; even more impressive considering that this soundtrack was composed for a Vita title.

Liberation offers new gameplay features that AC fans will appreciate. However, it cannot be – and shouldn’t be – treated as a main entry into the series. The game is also a tad overpriced at £15.99.

The character of Aveline shows promise. Hopefully, Ubisoft will promote her to a main franchise game or use her traits for another female protagonist to give video games a much-needed leading heroine.

Liberation is a decent game that its intended fanbase will enjoy, but it’s not one for newcomers.

Overall

Assassin Creed fans will love this fresh outlook on a familiar franchise with its daring plot and inspired characters. Sadly, the game is riddled with glitches, unwelcoming to newcomers and lacks polish. Only for the hardcore AC fan.

6/10

Video Games on TV

In December, two high profile shows on video games were broadcast.

First was Charlie Brooker's How Videogames Changed The World. Channel 4 promoted the show heavily and granted the programme a 9 pm prime time slot. Despite the hype, the programme was a let down; the show adopted the tired countdown + talking head format and was painfully dull. HVCGTW was aimed at those with a passing interest in video games; the show didn't provide gamers with much enlightening information.

At times, the programme came across as desperate in its attempt to sell the general public on video games significance. The last 'game' featured on the list was Twitter. Brooker drew a parallel between video games and the social networking site. He made a convincing argument but including the website as an example of video games influence was an insult to the many real video games deserving of a place on the list. The show repeatedly claimed that video games were mainstream. If they were, then this one-off programme wouldn't have been necessary.

While Brooker's programme was aimed at non-gamers, VGX was squarely aimed at those who choose to spend a Saturday night playing Dota 2. VGX was the successor to the Video Game Awards (VGA's), the Emmy's; they weren't. The VGA's selling point was the show's "World Exclusives." Previous year's VGA's unveiled such blockbusters games as Mass Effect 3 and Batman Arkham City. This year's redesigned VGX did away with the award show tropes; gone were the C-list celebrities and irrelevant presentations, the focus of the show was the game reveals. VGX broadcasted live - and commercial-free - on Spike TV in the US and streamed worldwide.

A+ idea. F- execution

The show plodded (badly), the "World Exclusives" weren't as significant as previous years, and the show suffered from many production errors. The decision to abandon the large amphitheatre for an empty studio may have been cost-effective, but it resulted in a drab and awkward atmosphere.

While all of those involved in How Videogames Changed The World were fans of the genre, the co-host of VGX, actor Joel McHale couldn't be anything but. McHale's response to the lousy script and shoddy production was to behave like a disinterested snob.

Many have lamented the lack of video games programmes on mainstream television. After these two embarrassments, the only involvement TV should have with video games is through an HDMI port.

The Quest for Prestige

Activision arranged an unprecedented giveaway at this year's Eurogamer Expo: The first 500 people to play Call Of Duty: Ghosts would receive a free Prestige Edition of the game.

Every major video game comes in three flavours these days: The Standard Edition, which is just the game with no added extras. Decked out with a unique cover and/or extra in-game content is the Special Edition. And then there's the Collectors Edition or, as it's known to COD fans: the Prestige Edition. The Prestige Edition retails at £180 and includes everything in the Special Edition but with one lavish extra. For example, 2012's Black Ops 2 came with an RC Drone. This year's Prestige Edition is packaged with a 1080p HD camera.

I couldn't pass up this opportunity; I had to go. It didn't matter that I hardly play COD and have a negative K/D ratio, but they were giving away A FREE PRESTIGE EDITION.

Due to a bad sleeping pattern and paranoia, I arrived at the Earls Court Exhibition Centre at 6 am; doors weren't scheduled to be opened until 11 am. Despite being obscenely early, I wasn't alone. There were already 100 people in line; the guy at the front of the queue had been there since 8 pm the previous day. My friends arrived an hour later. The atmosphere was jovial with a hint of apprehension; no staff was present to maintain the queue. It became clear early on that I wasn't among hardcore COD fans; "I'm putting mine on eBay!" said one man.

At around 8 am, the crowd was ushered from the right side of the building to the left. An uppity security guard - with shoulder-length brown hair resembling a certain biblical figure - took the Call of Duty theme too seriously; "If you listen to me, we'll all get through this safely!" said Army Jesus.

A few minutes after the guard had finished preaching, the staff allowed us to enter the building. We collected our passes and headed for the turnstiles; the staff halted us and directed everyone to the stairs below. It was 9 am and only authorized personnel was allowed into the hall; we were stuck in the basement.

The queue had disintegrated; hundreds of men and scarcely few women were jammed into this tiny area. Press members and staff would walk by, bemused, disgusted, and intrigued by this mob. Some would snap photos, instructing us to wave and yelp for the camera. "You guys really love Call of Duty, eh?" asked an amused press member. The crowd collectively shrugged.

Thirty minutes before opening time, we emerged from the basement into the foyer. Loud, ominous stamping could be heard from the back. A few moments before the Expo was to open to the public; we were finally allowed to stand in the main hall. Only a steel barrier separated us. Army Jesus arose, "Okay, people! I want a nice and orderly entrance." The crowd chuckled. He outstretched his hands and motioned to the two entrance points. The salivating crowd drowned out Army Jesus's sermon. I was jostled by the ravenous mob behind me. The hours of waiting and endless queues had turned the playful bunch from earlier into freebie obsessed monsters.

A staff member let the first in line enter; it was then when all hell broke loose. The barriers slapped the floor; a storm descended onto the Exhibition Centre, an 50" TV was flung aside like a copy of Battlefield, rucksacks flew with wild abandonment. The staff pleaded for order in vain.

My eyes darted left and right; I had lost sight of my friends a few queues back. Bodies flew past while I tried to ascertain where the booth was. I spotted a familiar silhouette: A man with a gun. That must be the Call of Duty booth! I dashed straight to it. The queue formed fast. I quickly claimed my spot.

I lagged a couple of seconds; I couldn't be sure if there were 500 people ahead of me. A man in an official Ghosts T-shirt shuffled down the line handing a piece of card. He approached me with the card. I grabbed it. This was it. It confirmed that I was #Oneof500. All those hours, all those queues, the basement, Army Jesus. It was over...almost. I just had to queue for another hour to play the game.

The magic ticket

It was 11 am. I had just finished a second game of COD Ghosts on an Xbox One (the controller felt unsatisfyingly light). I approached the redeem station, entered in my details; it was done. Finally, I had the rest of the convention to enjoy. Unfortunately, my sleep-deprived body couldn't handle a post office queue (although those are pretty brutal). I made a few rotations of the convention before heading home. Battered. Bruised. Alive.

I later sold my Prestige Edition on eBay.

My Modelling Experience

Scrolling through Gumtree, I stumbled on the perfect job listing: £300 for a day's work as an extra in a locally-filmed Bollywood movie. The next day, I received an e-mail with the location for the casting call, a swanky building near Bank Station.

...

While I waited in the lobby amongst a sea of Vogue and Hello magazines, the receptionist answered the phone, he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Mr. Gill, they'll see you now."

I rode the lift to the third floor, seated in the office, was the casting agent, a raven-haired Indian woman in a snazzy suit. She had striking brown eyes that said: "I'm legit."

"Have a seat, Mr. Gill," she said alluringly. "Now. Have you ever done any professional modeling?"

Err..nope. She proceeded to ask me questions that seemed like they were designed for a 19-year-old aspiring cover girl. Before she could ask if I'm a Gucci type of gal, I interjected.

"Hey, um...I thought this interview was for extras work, so are these kinds of questions...necessary?"

She flung her hair back and softly dropped her pen. "Okay, Mr. Gill. Before we can consider you for extras work, you would have to first be accepted into our agency."

Oh, okay then.

"All we need are a portfolio of pictures."

Oh, crap.

But not to worry, because they had a studio in the same building. "Just go down the hall, and we'll snap a few photos," directed the agent. I went and got prepared.

"No, that's not a pose." said the agent sternly. Apparently, standing upwards is not a pose. I leaned back against a vague city backdrop with my knee resting against the wall. "That's fine. I just need another nineteen or so more poses."

NINETEEN?!

"Be creative," she insisted. Well, I do have a degree in Creative Writing. I shifted my other foot against the wall. "NO!" she shouted. "You've just changed sides. Come on, be creative!" I put my hand on my hip. "What are you doing?! You look like a girl!"

Considering I had never modeled in my life, her attitude was unnecessarily harsh. How would've she liked it if I yelled at her for not knowing that pressing RB brings out the power wheel in Mass Effect.

After what seemed like a lifetime but was probably a minute, the agent grew weary of my inability to channel my inner Tyra and cut short the photoshoot. She ushered me outside. "We will e-mail you your photos and inform you of the result very soon."

On the bus back, while I was lamenting the end of my runway dreams, I got an e-mail from the agency. I had passed the audition. I immediately forwarded the message to my main e-mail account. Seconds later, I got an e-mail with the pictures. I sent that mail straight to 'Deleted'.

What Now?

My tenuous grip on my student status has fully loosened.

It's been over three weeks since I was at Guildford Cathedral shaking John Simpson's hand. I had been gripping on to that status since the first week of May when I handed in my last assignment. Being a student allowed me to dodge many tricky questions:

"Do you have a job?"

I'm a student.

"What's your future plans?"

Well, I'm concentrating on being a student.

"Are you going to help clean up?"

Student.

I recently entered my mid-20's. Due to a combination of bad course choices and general larking, I didn't enter University until I was 22. Being slightly older then most didn't prove to be a problem, it helped that I have the voice of a 10-year-old. University is such a great deal, spend three years studying a subject you're interested in with like-minded people around your (mental) age, Oh! And here is all this interest-free cash which you don't have to pay back till much, much later.

I was consumed in the University bubble, I never thought those three years were going to end. The last two summers were a breeze. I knew exactly where I was heading, back for another round of Uni. Now I'm faced with a multitude of options with various potential pitfalls and traps.

I'm certainly feeling the Post-Uni blues, and my age means I don't get the luxury of wallowing. I need to decide on my future. NOW.

The Facebook feed of my former Secondary School classmates features engagement announcements, job cripes and people genuinely excited for the weekend. An alarming amount are married, some even have kids. And here I am still playing Pokemon.

Despite my melancholy, I take comfort from a post I saw on Reddit: "Life is not a race." In the end, there's likely no Resident Evil style End Screen displaying all your stats such as how much cash you made and how many countries you've visited (although, it would be pretty awesome if there was). However, If life was really a race, I'd be lagging somewhere behind the kid from the Phantom Menace and MySpace.

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