Opening with a scene so bombastic and absurd, you take control of Kratos actually riding a behemoth, the building-(and then some) sized rock-monster (Gaia, if it matters), who is climbing to the top of mount Olympus so you can finish the job on Papa-electric. His journey is one of pure, unadulterated (but with plenty of adultery) rage, interspersed with excruciatingly graphic quick-time events that finish off his foes. Protagonist Kratos has lost his family, and the long and short of it is that it’s all the Greek God Zeus’ fault, who actually also happens to be his father (so he hasn’t lost all his family, I guess). In fact, I’ve often thought it a shame that Santa Monica didn’t fully embrace the ridiculousness of the God of War games, and give him a daft catchphrase.ĭigressions, early-onset mid-life crisis, and the oddness of releasing the third game in a trilogy as the first game on your newest console aside, this remaster does one thing very well: it reminds us all that the God of War games were, and still are, a tremendous, visual treat of a video game series, but also that they’re cocks-out fun – the equivalent of a summer blockbuster that nobody should be ashamed of enjoying. Thankfully, Kratos never stops being angry.
But you do get less angry in time, that’s a universal truth.
Many of us resist aging with special face creams or surgery, while others try to find a haircut that doesn’t show that they’re thinning up top at the age of thirty-four.
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