Problem is, it ain't nuthin' we ain't seen before. When not running from the cops a la "Driver," you're making deliveries like in "Crazy Taxi"—both of which would be a lot more fun if your rig wasn't slow and sluggish like Eminem with his medicine.

Problem is, it ain't nuthin' we ain't seen before. When not running from the cops a la "Driver," you're making deliveries like in "Crazy Taxi"—both of which would be a lot more fun if your rig wasn't slow and sluggish like Eminem with his medicine.

Problem is, it ain't nuthin' we ain't seen before. When not running from the cops a la "Driver," you're making deliveries like in "Crazy Taxi"-both of which would be a lot more fun if your rig wasn't slow and sluggish like Eminem with his medicine.

Unfortunately, when it comes to actual racing, FlatOut is about as interesting as a public service announcement for seatbelts.

Unfortunately, when it comes to actual racing, FlatOut is about as interesting as a public service announcement for seatbelts.

Unfortunately, when it comes to actual racing, FlatOut is about as interesting as a public service announcement for seatbelts.

While it has an amazing cell-shaded, anime-influenced look that’s both stylish and striking, it also has totally unnatural and unnecessarily complicated controls that make it impossible to play.

While it has an amazing cell-shaded, anime-influenced look that's both stylish and striking, it also has totally unnatural and unnecessarily complicated controls that make it impossible to play.

REOF2 inspires as much boredom as fear, and possibly boasts the most tedious tutorial in game history.

But for the crimes of middling graphics and dull-as-dirt game play, we sentence Dredd vs. Death to eternal burial in the discount bin at Costco. Court adjourned.

But for the crimes of middling graphics and dull-as-dirt game play, we sentence Dredd vs. Death to eternal burial in the discount bin at Costco. Court adjourned.

But for the crimes of middling graphics and dull-as-dirt game play, we sentence Dredd vs. Death to eternal burial in the discount bin at Costco. Court adjourned.

But for the crimes of middling graphics and dull-as-dirt game play, we sentence Dredd vs. Death to eternal burial in the discount bin at Costco. Court adjourned.

Combo moves and minor upgrades notwithstanding, Konami has done little more than create a mediocre "Double Dragon" rip-off populated with epilepsy-triggering robots.

We're used to crappy stories. What we're not used to is disorienting camera angles and lousy controls that have the lithe, lean, fighting machine Nina plodding around like the bastard love child of Kirstie Alley and a three-legged Clydesdale.

But even the addition of Halle Berry’s slinky form and sultry voice can’t pull unpolished game play with lousy camera angles out of the litter box.

But even the addition of Halle Berry’s slinky form and sultry voice can’t pull unpolished game play with lousy camera angles out of the litter box.

But even the addition of Halle Berry’s slinky form and sultry voice can’t pull unpolished game play with lousy camera angles out of the litter box.

Think of it as a choose-your-own-adventure book set in the Edo period of Japanese history—in other words, a very special form of excruciating, ritual torture.

Passing and shooting in these high-scoring battles is as easy as squeezing the trigger on an Uzi, but complicated button-mashing for trick moves, muddy graphics, and a schizophrenic soundtrack of Method Man, TLC, and Foo Fighters all draw red cards.

Passing and shooting in these high-scoring battles is as easy as squeezing the trigger on an Uzi, but complicated button-mashing for trick moves, muddy graphics, and a schizophrenic soundtrack of Method Man, TLC, and Foo Fighters all draw red cards.

The play and story will ring familiar to anyone who’s played the "Grand Theft Auto" series—which is good—but the guy responsible for the crummy graphics should slip on a pair of cement galoshes and take a long walk off a short pier.

The play and story will ring familiar to anyone who’s played the "Grand Theft Auto" series—which is good—but the guy responsible for the crummy graphics should slip on a pair of cement galoshes and take a long walk off a short pier.

Take one part "Grand Theft Auto" and one part car combat game "Twisted Metal Black." Mix, ingest, and vomit. Stare wistfully into bowl. What could have been a great game—car carnage with heavy artillery against gangs in cities devastated by a mysterious plague—is only mediocre.

Take one part "Grand Theft Auto" and one part car combat game "Twisted Metal Black." Mix, ingest, and vomit. Stare wistfully into bowl. What could have been a great game—car carnage with heavy artillery against gangs in cities devastated by a mysterious plague—is only mediocre.

Take one part "Grand Theft Auto" and one part car combat game "Twisted Metal Black." Mix, ingest, and vomit. Stare wistfully into bowl. What could have been a great game—car carnage with heavy artillery against gangs in cities devastated by a mysterious plague—is only mediocre.

Sadly, the sloppy controls and graphics make the game about as fun as a blow to the brainpan with a spiked bat.

Sadly, the sloppy controls and graphics make the game about as fun as a blow to the brainpan with a spiked bat.

There’s just no way to make Aquaman more exciting than beached jellyfish. It’s time to let the scaly superhero sleep with the fishes already.

Golfing game standards like club selection, power meter, and control of backspins and topspins satisfy, but the sometimes-clunky controls and confusing camera perspectives will leave you teed-off.

There’s just no way to make Aquaman more exciting than beached jellyfish. It’s time to let the scaly superhero sleep with the fishes already.

The moves are so disappointing and ineffective, you’re down for the count before the festivities begin. On the list of failed comebacks, file this one below ALF.

Seriously, you’d be hard-pressed to find a game with a more craptastic combination of graphics and gunplay.

Crush Hour is like some hick dream—demolition derby mated with pro wrestling—that actually gets old pretty damn quick.

Crush Hour is like some hick dream—demolition derby mated with pro wrestling—that actually gets old pretty damn quick.

Fortunately for our loved ones, the urge to boot up a PS2 to waste entire months role-playing as an Orc who sells pomegranates or a Warrior who slays stray cats won’t be nearly so compelling thanks to graphics that often look like flattened dragon dung.

You do get to take on all of the classic villains in Metropolis—Braniac 13 and Lex Luthor, among others—but not before fighting through a number of mind-numbing missions with unrecognizable characters.

The game play is so tedious.

Pac’s newest adventure involves playing cheesy boards and minigames with his sappy friends (obviously his wife’s pals), who look like they hopped out of a Barney video.

Die-hard fans (all three of you) will be glad to know that the game religiously follows the flick; there’s no plot, plenty of bad acting, and loads of cheesy CGI zombies for you to Ginsu to bits.

Pac’s newest adventure involves playing cheesy boards and minigames with his sappy friends (obviously his wife’s pals), who look like they hopped out of a Barney video.

A robust online play mode is just impressive enough to make us think that this franchise is back on the cusp of respectability. But then again, that’s what everyone has been saying about the Cincinnati Bengals for the past 10 years.

Pathetically boring.

The only thing more painful than watching a rehashed movie sequel is, well, playing a videogame based on a rehashed sequel.

Pathetically boring.

A mindless version of "Simon Says" to the masterful beats of "Oops, I Did It Again."

The crappy graphics and gameplay aren’t worth stomaching, especially for a PG-rated peep show.

Namco has bastardized one of our favorite timewasters into a ho-hum jump-a-thon with the occasional maze thrown in.

This multi-event crapfest manages to combine all the fun of a pipe-fitting seminar with the pain of slamming your hand in a car door.

After delivering the best beer-guzzling entertainment to dorm rooms last year, this half-assed sequel plays worse than Dick Vitale’s toupee.

This game doesn’t actually let you cut anything into lunchmeat except clunky Battle Droids. What fun is that?

This is not the kind of game you’ll enjoy slogging through on your own, but played with a group of other Simpsons fanatics it’s a pretty good time.

An embarrassment. When the players run bowlegged to field a ball, it’s hard to take this game seriously.

Fans of the genre will probably get their rocks off, but casual gamers will find it a big tease.

The ugly graphics make this feel more "On Her Majesty’s Secret Service" than "Goldfinger."

Sometimes the visual assault becomes so chaotic, you may lose track of your on-screen location. Our advice: Fly blind and keep on shooting.

There’s no ear biting in Tyson’s animated repertoire (damn!), but there’re plenty of other ways to rearrange your opponent’s face—even though you won’t recognize any of them.

Blocky backgrounds and mushy controls make this about as tasty as a mouthful of yellow snow.

After hours of useless conversation, wasted time, and unrewarding returns, chances are that Seaman will start to remind you of your ex-girlfriends.

Sure, it sounds gnarly, but the frustrating control interface and primitive graphics make Surf Riders a wipeout.