50 Cent: Blood on the Sand

Game: 50 Cent: Blood on the Sand (Xbox 360) - By Tetsuo

"Damn, look at that ice, man"

"This is some fucked up shit, Fif'" drones Lloyd Banks - honorary member of gangsta rap group G-Unit, as bullets rain over the oven-baked skies of some nameless Middle-Eastern backdrop (Afghanistan). "Fucking die!" shouts 50, rattling off his giant sub-machine gun into some nameless Middle Eastern guy's pathetically-armoured chest.

See, I was genuinely (with no pretentious sarcasm required) looking forward to this, an Xbox 360 game of all things; an arcade-style run-and-gun action game, some ace visuals, a massive 50 Cent soundtrack, and lashings of comedic violence to tide past the almost inevitable monotonous moments.

Depressingly (racistly?), most of the mainstream press (including THQ's own promotion, bizarrely) hinted at this as being some sort of "guilty pleasure" - a turn of phrase I've always disliked, but still. Am I not allowed to enjoy this because it's got 50 in it? Would it not be feasible to find a good game in here somewhere, especially given the fact it bears more than a passing resemblance to Xbox 360 darling Tears of Bore; a game so garbed in macho seriousness and grey-walled tediousness that it only recently caused impressionable teenage boys and a spineless videogame press to practically jizz themselves in unison. 50 Cent: Blood on the Sand actually has something going for it though, in comparison: it's a bit of fun.

There's music videos, songs, weapons, counter-kills and even taunts to un-lock.

Again, much has been made of the absurdity of G-Unit finding themselves single-handedly blowing the shit out of everything and everyone in sight over some poxy skull with jewelry plastered over it - "it's so bad it's good!" seems to be the customary retort. Fuck that. Within seconds of this ludicrous premise being set in motion, 50 is running out of the building into a rain-drenched night-time setting: lovely graphics they are. Solid controls too, it's all very agreeable stuff. 50 can use almost all of his surroundings to take cover and pop off at subordinates, and the aiming and movement is workmanlike, if a little sluggish. As more and more sand people drop, 50's Matrix Gauge of Death™ slowly begins to fill, which when activated slows everything down in black and white, and killing just seems even cooler - almost beautiful in a brutish kind of way. Most of the game has been prepped to be just one long explosion of guns and blood and adrenalin, set to the tune of G-Unit music. And it works.

I should at this stage point out that this game is super-sweary and violent. 50 can "counter-kill" enemies when up close, which basically consists of QTE's and the resulting fists, knives and broken backs and faces. These counter-kills are fairly brutal, but certainly not as much as they were in PS2 original Bulletproof (this being the sequel, I guess). Stuff in that game could sometimes make you do a little sick in your mouth. But yes, this one contains the kind of mindless indiscriminate killing that would've made Charlie Company wince in horror.

Blood on the Sand is at its best when you learn to use the environment to your advantage, and even better when its combo-tastic bowling-pin explosion physics are put to test with a few grenades or a massive rocket launcher. And what's really pleasing is the pace - it's relentless; hoards of enemies rushing through doors begging to be gunned down, gun turrets tantalisingly placed in hallways, and our old friend the explosive barrel is never too far away from view.

You team up with either DJ Whoo Kid, Tony Yayo or Lloyd Banks.

And yet as a whole, it's a cut-price, easy and fairly restrictive experience. All actions are lazily executed by single buttons presses. You'll be killed, and killed, and killed again, and again, and again, and again until you forcibly tackle some of the areas in a regimented manner. But, for all its cheap collect-me-up insistence and hand-holding, there are moments that are genuinely compulsive: see the often tricky-to-find targets scattered around the buildings that force you to carefully inspect your surroundings. And discovering shiny posters of our favourite money-hungry crew are like finding Golden Ticket's. Then there are the swears which can be mouthed off with the press of a stick: taunt a mutha' fuka' as you're killing his sorry ass, and you get bonus points. It becomes second nature: *pop pop pop* "you want a shot at the title, bitch?!" *2500+ bonus points!*

Apparently sales for this have been low, even lower than they were for Bulletproof, which is a real shame as it's at least twice the game that was. But let's get serious here for a minute, and we'll try and sum this whole thing up nicely. You know how Made in Wario for the GameBoy Advance was this sort of beautiful, almost perfect summation and celebration of the videogame medium past and present? In a lot of ways, I definitely see Blood on the Sand in the same sort of vein, whether it was intentional or not. It's an exuberant but relinquished commentary on much of the modern console videogame journey; the promise of reward at every turn; brash but obsessive; stunning but utilitarian; by and large throw-away bollocks.

Six out of Ten