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When The Zombies Come Marching In
Left 4 Dead 2
Maker: Valve Software
Platform: Xbox 360, Windows
"Holy crap, we're efficient!" level designer Kim Swift says while killing zombies in the game she helped create, Left 4 Dead 2.
Swift sounds like she's gushing about the success the four of us are having killing zombies. We're in Valve Software's testing room, a cramped lab in Bellevue filled with some of the fastest, neon-bluest computers I've ever seen, and we've just torn through an abandoned amusement park. "Efficient" definitely describes how we've wielded our virtual chainsaws and shotguns against 1,120 zombies (the game counts 'em).
But Swift is talking about how quickly she and the rest of her team made the new game. Valve Software, notorious for years-long waits between releases, needed only 10 months to get this horror-game sequel out its doors.
And for a moment, the company's fans couldn't have been more pissed. They lit up the company's online forums after L4D2 was announced, complaining that a new version so soon seemed like a cash-in. Valve had promised to support the first L4D with free add-on content, and now they wanted fans to pay another $50 for the same concept?
Lucky us, the new release earns its paycheck. L4D2 revolves around the same conceit as last time—team up with three friends, kill things that go "ennnhh"—and just like a year ago, the title still offers the best "perpendicular" gaming experience on market. Unlike most team-up online games, in which players play together but rarely interact, this one requires constant cooperation. When a dozens-strong rush of zombies descends, L4D2 requires four players to fend 'em off and will scare each of you silly in the process.
New, then, is just about everything attached to that formula. More "super" zombies plug up the easy patches of the last game, particularly the Charger, whose clothesline tackles mute older "hide in a row" tactics. With smarter zombies, even the smallest batches now prove contentious. The visceral appeal has been jacked up, as well, with more death animations and weapons. Call me stupid for applauding what Valve estimates as "780 ways for zombies to die," but, hell, this is a horror game, loaded with darkly hilarious dialogue and a marked lack of self-seriousness. Where else am I supposed to delight in bloody, katana-related deaths?
The sequel's love affair with the American South makes for a memorable trail leading from Savannah to New Orleans. Maybe you're sneaking through a deadly Tunnel of Love, or hopping over a Mardi Gras float to chop a zombie with an axe, or even breaking windows in a burning-down hotel to walk along perilous balconies. The diversity of design makes last year's generic, dimly lit cityscapes look that much more dim.

But the visible style has nothing on L4D2's newfound bits of intangible horror. Last time, "crescendo" moments typically forced players to hide in a corner and fight off a basic rush of enemies. This time, events revolve around long chases, along with fetch-and-return missions and lengthy runs through pouring rain, that force players to walk head-first into the most dangerous situations the franchise has yet dreamed up.
Really though, L4D2 shines because of the intangibles, not the obvious stuff like pretty scenery or bloody cricket bats. The game lives and dies by repetition; it asks you and your friends to replay its five missions, promising new fun every time thanks to the randomization of what Valve calls the "A.I. Director." The old game, while fun even on repeat play, worked itself into conceptual corners; L4D2 lives beyond its wit and style to rip those trap-ins apart with improvements. And the game's already better (and longer) without accounting for the new Realism and Scavenge modes—smart additions made for the diehard L4D fans who complained months ago about feeling ripped off.
"When you tell people the game has five new campaigns, that doesn't express the scope," Valve writer and PR maven Chet Faliszek says. "The way all of the new items, enemies, and modes factor in and interact, they're not additive. The possibilities multiply."
His point is on the money—even though he's paid to make it, admittedly—but I have trouble hearing him. We're talking in that testing room, and four other guys (one journalist and three developers who've lived and breathed L4D2 for the past year) shout and laugh as they tear through the hardest part of the game. Faliszek has some good stories: About how L4D2 could have been canceled the same month it was eventually announced ("should we pull the plug?"); about how his upbringing in the South informed his writing for the game; about the quality of the game's voice talent, including The Wire's Chad Coleman.
But the louder story in the room is the hooting and hollering by designers who should, by all logic, hate the game this many months later. That result is telling, and it's justified. Recommended—if you have three other people to hoot and holler with, at least. Playing with online strangers is okay, but not ideal for this much cooperation.
Maker: Valve Software
Platform: Xbox 360, Windows
"Holy crap, we're efficient!" level designer Kim Swift says while killing zombies in the game she helped create, Left 4 Dead 2.
Swift sounds like she's gushing about the success the four of us are having killing zombies. We're in Valve Software's testing room, a cramped lab in Bellevue filled with some of the fastest, neon-bluest computers I've ever seen, and we've just torn through an abandoned amusement park. "Efficient" definitely describes how we've wielded our virtual chainsaws and shotguns against 1,120 zombies (the game counts 'em).

But Swift is talking about how quickly she and the rest of her team made the new game. Valve Software, notorious for years-long waits between releases, needed only 10 months to get this horror-game sequel out its doors.
And for a moment, the company's fans couldn't have been more pissed. They lit up the company's online forums after L4D2 was announced, complaining that a new version so soon seemed like a cash-in. Valve had promised to support the first L4D with free add-on content, and now they wanted fans to pay another $50 for the same concept?
Lucky us, the new release earns its paycheck. L4D2 revolves around the same conceit as last time—team up with three friends, kill things that go "ennnhh"—and just like a year ago, the title still offers the best "perpendicular" gaming experience on market. Unlike most team-up online games, in which players play together but rarely interact, this one requires constant cooperation. When a dozens-strong rush of zombies descends, L4D2 requires four players to fend 'em off and will scare each of you silly in the process.
New, then, is just about everything attached to that formula. More "super" zombies plug up the easy patches of the last game, particularly the Charger, whose clothesline tackles mute older "hide in a row" tactics. With smarter zombies, even the smallest batches now prove contentious. The visceral appeal has been jacked up, as well, with more death animations and weapons. Call me stupid for applauding what Valve estimates as "780 ways for zombies to die," but, hell, this is a horror game, loaded with darkly hilarious dialogue and a marked lack of self-seriousness. Where else am I supposed to delight in bloody, katana-related deaths?
The sequel's love affair with the American South makes for a memorable trail leading from Savannah to New Orleans. Maybe you're sneaking through a deadly Tunnel of Love, or hopping over a Mardi Gras float to chop a zombie with an axe, or even breaking windows in a burning-down hotel to walk along perilous balconies. The diversity of design makes last year's generic, dimly lit cityscapes look that much more dim.

But the visible style has nothing on L4D2's newfound bits of intangible horror. Last time, "crescendo" moments typically forced players to hide in a corner and fight off a basic rush of enemies. This time, events revolve around long chases, along with fetch-and-return missions and lengthy runs through pouring rain, that force players to walk head-first into the most dangerous situations the franchise has yet dreamed up.
Really though, L4D2 shines because of the intangibles, not the obvious stuff like pretty scenery or bloody cricket bats. The game lives and dies by repetition; it asks you and your friends to replay its five missions, promising new fun every time thanks to the randomization of what Valve calls the "A.I. Director." The old game, while fun even on repeat play, worked itself into conceptual corners; L4D2 lives beyond its wit and style to rip those trap-ins apart with improvements. And the game's already better (and longer) without accounting for the new Realism and Scavenge modes—smart additions made for the diehard L4D fans who complained months ago about feeling ripped off.
"When you tell people the game has five new campaigns, that doesn't express the scope," Valve writer and PR maven Chet Faliszek says. "The way all of the new items, enemies, and modes factor in and interact, they're not additive. The possibilities multiply."
His point is on the money—even though he's paid to make it, admittedly—but I have trouble hearing him. We're talking in that testing room, and four other guys (one journalist and three developers who've lived and breathed L4D2 for the past year) shout and laugh as they tear through the hardest part of the game. Faliszek has some good stories: About how L4D2 could have been canceled the same month it was eventually announced ("should we pull the plug?"); about how his upbringing in the South informed his writing for the game; about the quality of the game's voice talent, including The Wire's Chad Coleman.
But the louder story in the room is the hooting and hollering by designers who should, by all logic, hate the game this many months later. That result is telling, and it's justified. Recommended—if you have three other people to hoot and holler with, at least. Playing with online strangers is okay, but not ideal for this much cooperation.
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