inFamous 2 is, like the first game, one of the best arguments that sandbox games can be more than crime sprees or player sociopathy for laughs.
Had the game been precisely what it seems to be for around three quarters of the playtime, inFamous 2 would still easily merit every bit of admiration its predecessor earned. But, as always, there’s more to it than meets the eye. By the end, players will understand precisely why the villain of the first game felt Cole MacGrath needed to be tough enough to make impossible choices.
It’s some time after the first game, and our favorite gravely-voice electrokinetic (now having acquired a mildly Southern accent) is scrambling around trying to find any power boost he can find in preparation to face his foretold nemesis, the apocalyptic Conduit (AKA “superpowered mutant”) known as the Beast. Except, wait, he’s shown up early! There goes New York Empire City.
Cole and his friends, repentant goofball Zeke and chilly (ultimately in more ways than one) NSA agent Kuo, flees down south to New Orleans Marais. Here in the flooded town (having never been cleaned up properly in the inFamous-verse), Cole hopes to find a means to boost his powers and recovery from his unceremonious drubbing in time to stop the Beast before all is lost. But the city is under de-facto fascist rule courtesy of Bertrand, a Southern-fried politician in the midst of a witch hunt against all Conduits (whether activated or latent) as abominations against God, drawing support from his efforts against a siege of feral swamp monsters.
Meanwhile, the Beast carves a path of devastation down the coastline, utterly unstoppable, the pause screen helpfully reminding you how many miles he’s got to go for a rematch. Better hurry up.
(This article is a spoilers-free review of the game as a whole; stay tuned for a spoiler-heavy discussion of the game’s unusual narrative merits.)
Sucker Punch has polished inFamous 2‘s wheel, not reinvented it. Of course, considering the first’s merits, that’s already a good starting point, but some possible issues remain. Heroic and Evil karma still function on a single spectrum, so you’ve really got to go all-or-nothing with your morality for most of the game. Fortunately, the sequel features all sorts of day-to-day acts of thuggishness or altruism to drive your karma in the direction you want; it’s quite satisfying stopping muggings, defusing bombs, or healing injured folk between story missions. Furthermore, karmic decisions are never locked out by karma level — the player can always choose to take the other alignment’s missions instead of their own, so karma becomes largely a matter of powers and reputation.
Combat’s surprisingly deep for a sandbox title. Cole still twists lightning into parallels of common weaponry, but now he’s got a two-pronged amplifier club for close work and ridiculously destructive limited-use super-blasts, allowing him to wade through enemies like the superhuman he’s supposed to be. The new firepower’s necessary, because in addition to the heavily-armed Militia (who fight reasonably well and entirely with conventional weapons), New Marais is infested with two superhuman breeds of antagonist: the feral Corrupted, altered by their power into monstrous beasts, and Vermak 88, a mercenary unit twisted into an entire army of cyrokinetics who combine discipline, judicious use of firearms, and ice powers. This diversity of enemies is a notable improvement over the first game’s mostly-interchangeable gun-wielders and occasional Conduits.
Cole’s also still practically part monkey, judging by his mastery of the urban jungle — he slides, flies, clambers and vaults around almost faster than a car could drive, and the developers are kind enough to let him keep practically all the mobility powers he wielded in the first game from the get-go. Morality-based travel powers also enhance his range — the Good travel power is particularly entertaining, summoning a pillar beneath Cole’s feet that hurls him into the air and can act as a perch. With just a little practice, Cole can engage in daring, acrobatic duels across the city rooftops.
The narrative’s an economical one, sometimes actually bordering on sparseness. It knows when to speak and when to shut up and let you fill in the blanks; it treats superpowers as rather ordinary (though awesome) facts of life. The characters speak with an intimate, naturalistic sincerity; bombastic slogans and speechifying are kept to a minimum. Cutscenes are sparse comic-style stills or short, sincere dialogues in the in-game engine.
And that’s where we get into the real beauty of inFamous 2 that’s so unusual for a sandbox: actions have emotional consequences. The (admittedly rather small) cast of major characters is remarkably written. The relationship between Cole and his best friend Zeke (who in the first game was a self-centered jerk) is surprisingly compelling and warm, and NSA agent Kuo defies all the stereotypes of her character type. If there’s a weak spot in the cast, it’s probably token amoral pyrokinetic Nix, who, while sympathetic, still feels a little too comic-book at times, but even she’s still got her good scenes. (It also helps that a Good Cole outright calls her on this.) For all the superpowers being thrown about and claims of a new species of superhuman, these are complicated human beings doing the throwing, and the writers explore the drawbacks and joys of their condition with a subtle hand.
Classic sandbox titles in the Grand Theft Auto mold tend to treat the random civilians on the street with anywhere between indifference and active contempt. They’re bodies, not people; players aren’t encouraged to avoid harming them except in the generic “oooh, that would be baaaad” sense that practically dares us to do it anyways. inFamous 2 continues its predecessor’s trend in defying this.
It’s surprisingly endearing to see civilians and cops cheering for a heroic Cole, enough to motivate me to keep saving people and defusing bombs long after my karmic rank was maxed and I didn’t need any more blast shards. Some will even follow Cole’s lead and fight back against their oppressors if they spot you in trouble rather than meekly expect for him to do all the work — a couple times I finished off one foe only to see his buddies already dropped by angry pedestrians.
It’s tempting to talk about the ending of inFamous 2 , but it’s really hard to discuss the latter half of the game and its revelations without going into massive spoilers. Take my word for it — the last decision is a genuinely difficult moral dilemma, and it makes the player rethink a lot of what they felt were givens when dealing with this kind of story.
inFamous 2 is a classic. Go buy it. Unless you really, really hate city-crawling superheroes, you won’t regret it.