Personally, I think the phrase “unmitigated disaster” isn’t used often enough in video game reviews. Sure, we all have things we’d like to nit-pick about, but in many cases we can find something of redeeming value in a video game. It’s just not very often that we can justify saying that a game has no merit at all. I’m talking about a game so terrible, it would make a drink taste foul if the game disc was used as a coaster. Well, if you want to know of such a game, look no further: Under The Skin is that horrendous mistake you’ve been looking for.
The basic story of the game is that Capcom hates us all and wants us chemically sterilized to prevent us from breeding. Okay, that might not be the story of the game, but they never expressly denied it after the game’s release, and it doesn’t give you any reason to doubt it. The published story is that you have to guide Cosmi, an alien of a species that specializes in pulling pranks on people, and guide him to become a Prank Master on the planet widely considered most dangerous in the known Universe. This is apparently Earth, despite our relative lack of weaponry that would destroy anything beyond a few large islands. We’re just that freaking scary.
Of course, as the game says right off the bat, Earth is a scary place that none of Cosmi’s people have ever managed to successfully work in, and that only a complete lunatic or a complete idiot (not that the two are mutually exclusive – especially if you bought the game) would bother going there. Naturally, each level has another alien also out to become a Prank Master. Apparently, nobody else got the memo, because every level features a fellow prankster for some various reason. The next time I go out for a dangerous planet that is nigh-suicidal to approach, I’m going to find one where there are plenty of other idiots, because obviously the danger was overblown. I’m also curious about why a sentient race that’s perfected interstellar travel is kidnapping people to pull pranks. Maybe you could get further by conquering other planets. Or at least further studies in xenoproctology.
Anyhow, for the game’s main action, you take Cosmi into a level teeming with humans. Cosmi’s goal revolves around collecting coins, which show how much he’s successfully pranked someone. Of course, another alien is trying to do the same thing at the same time, and you likely will have to steal their coins while you’re at it. You do this by kidnapping people and disguising yourself as the person you’ve just kidnapped, while avoiding getting hurt yourself. Apparently, after two hits, an alien is knocked out of possessing people and is dead meat for any nearby humans. So you have to keep switching humans, hoping to prank people to get the coins you need to complete the level. Also keep in mind that each person only has a limited number of prank items, so you’ll have to regularly switch who you’re possessing to clear a level.
You know, this would be all fine and dandy if you could have any semblance of control in the game. It really doesn’t matter which person you possess (each one has their own gait), they universally blow when it comes to actually moving. The controls are highly imprecise, mostly because you don’t get a full 360 degrees of movement in what is theoretically a third-person action game. You can basically move on the XY axis and their perfect diagonals, but that’s it. Moreover, the controls will have you move well beyond what you may intend, as almost every character in the game has terrible drift. This is bad enough when the normal level hazards are about, but during each particular level’s Panic Time (almost universally when the level becomes littered with hazards), it’s cause to give up video games to join a Luddite cult.
Another serious problem with the controls is that it’s nearly impossible to aim the prank items when you need to. Granted, some, like the tacks and the fireworks, are just dropped where you stand and aren’t a problem. But any kind of projectile, like the gun or the tank, will be a dramatic pain to aim. There’s no auto-aiming feature for any of these weapons either, so you’re mostly relying on your ability to face in roughly the correct direction. Hopefully, it’s one of the eight in which you’re allowed to face in any given moment. It’s a serious wonder how anybody is able to do anything in this game.
Oddly enough, though, being able to actually control what you’re doing isn’t all that necessary. Somehow, I managed to relatively quickly (relatively, as it takes 5 to 10 minutes of soul-deadening tedium to actually finish a level) clear every level this game threw at me. I’m still astounded by this. Every single time I tried clearing a level (mostly consisting of either “collect more coins than your opponent” or “collect X coins in Y minutes”), I was astounded by how idiotic the available items were, and how painfully frustrating the controls were for each character. And yet, I wound up running through the game fairly easily. I must admit, I’ve never quite seen this combination of terrible controls and in-game artificial stupidity before. Though it might be a stretch to call the game’s programming artificial stupidity – given the rest of the game’s development, I’m sure the stupidity came quite naturally to the production team.
As for the graphics, let me say this. Cel shaded graphics can be a great technique. They can add a stylized atmosphere to a game, and allow for smooth animation, particularly in the face where standard polygons have been a bit stiff. There are quite a few games out there that use the technique to the fullest. And then there’s Under The Skin, which looks like someone from the 70’s slowly animated a slow-moving pile of vomit. Seriously, I’ve seen more realistic animation in the background of old Hanna-Barbera cartoon chase scenes. This game’s graphics weren’t hit by the ugly stick. They were developed in the shade of the ugly forest, an entire grove of ugly trees with ugly sticks growing off of them. The animation is horrid, the cels aren’t shaded properly, and over half the time you can’t tell the difference between a wandering human and an ambulatory tumor in a dress. Graphics based on Guernica would have been clearer.
Inasmuch as this game has a saving grace, it would be the music. Of course, saying that the music is the best part is like saying that the starvation 24 hours before is the best part of stomach surgery. While potentially true, it’s still far down on the experiences you want. The music during the calm parts of the game is only slightly grating, with the forgettable punctuated by the shrill. This changes during the universal Panic Time music, which tries to convey urgency by making shrill noises that cause infants to weep and priests to doubt the existence of a deity. It sounds roughly like four different kinds of alarm clocks activating simultaneously, which is enough to drive men insane faster than a trip through R’lyeh.
About the only part of the game at all redeemable is the obligatory cross-over stage, Raccoon City. In this one, you actually cooperate with a computer ally to fight Nemesis, who apparently is really into coins. This level just requires you to force Nemesis to drop all of his coins. Not that it’s particularly hard, but it’s the only remotely fun thing in the game just because it’s a slight shift from the rest of the brain-bending tedium.
Also, I would like to note that there’s a two-player mode. As far as I can tell, this is to give sadists the opportunity to force two victims through this game. The play is identical to one-player mode, except that the other player controls the at-large alien present in each level. Their control bites just as much, and you also have to deal with a split-screen. I’ve seen games so bad that offering to play them in two-player was a declaration of war. But in this case, I think offering to play this two-player is morally on the same level as sleeping with your best friend’s wife. Seriously, if anyone ever offers to show this game to you in two-player mode, call the police on disturbing the peace. It’s morally justifiable.
I’m not saying that Under The Skin is the worst game in the world. But it was certainly from the same kind of people that think kittens are too cute for continued existence. It’s a sad waste of programming, and I still shower twice daily in the hopes that the stench of the game will come off. It’s ultimately like a fungal infection on DVD – foul-smelling, painful, and a relief to dispose.
