So far, that’s a lot of negatives. Perhaps you scrolled back up to the top of the review and checked the score: yes, there are three stars; and yes, I can count. That’s because despite all that stuff, I really like Dying Light. It’s primarily a game about climbing things and killing zombies, and it does both of those things well.
Nailed bludgeons aside, your main weapon is agility. During the day, you’re only ever one van roof away from relative safety, because standard Infected can’t climb. That said, it’s not so much parkour as just ‘jumping’. It’s pretty instinctive – I had faith that running in correct direction would usually lead me to safety – but until you’ve levelled up your skills, there’s a distinct feeling that you control more like a weezy uncle than dashing free-runner.
Things are different when the sun goes down, because unlike every other game ever, night is actually dark. Stumbling into a closed space is suddenly terrifying: especially when your torch begins to flicker and unspeakable things start lurching out of the gloom. It also adds a delicious urgency to getting stuff done during daylight hours. Combined, these two things make Dying Light feel unique. The city of Harran is the most interesting thing about the game; a place begging to be explored, made more compelling by the constant threat of things trying to eat your soft bits.
Clambering up walls while the undead snap at your heels is a fantastic rush, matched only by the most dramatic games of tag from your childhood; grazed knees swapped out for gnawed Achilles tendons. Because of this, unlockable safe rooms feel like islands of calm in a tumultuous sea of probably-death. There’s something deeply soothing about surviving a chase, then climbing into your sleeping bag and enjoying an imaginary can of peaches. Ahhhhh. Combine this with the gently threatening electro soundtrack, and you get a very real sense of being trapped in a low-budget horror film.
The Infected are easily killed, but it takes perseverance. Large groups of them are dangerous. When you do fight them, it’s brutal and hilarious. They stumble around like drunks, making it easy to boot them over walls or smash in their heads after they’ve crumpled to the floor. Like stepping on a semi-frozen puddle, there’s something irresistibly compelling about bludgeoning them to bits. It’s less fun fighting human opponents, because they can dodge and block.
Worse yet, you’re forced to fight men armed with assault rifles while you’re packing nothing more threatening than a table leg. Again, this is a triumph of the open world stuff over the story. It feels like you should be avoiding combat, but the linear missions force you into conflict. My solution to this? Herd enemies into tight corridors, chuck a few molotovs, watch them horribly burn to death and think about how the breakdown organised society makes monsters of us all. I’m pretty deep.
Like watching professional wrestling or wearing a cravat, there’s something about Dying Light I’m compelled to defend. It has obvious problems, but many of them are eclipsed by the simple joy of braining zombies with shovels. It’s unoriginal, crude and frustrating, but it also lets me dropkick monsters onto spikes. Most of all, it’s a pleasing reminder that not every game has to be a $200 million sequel. And, just as Socrates probably said, we need the B-movies to appreciate the blockbusters.
Supply Gamesradar
Dying Light review - App Review 4u
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