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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

If the boys of summer took a cue from Babe Ruth and got liquored up before a game, the results would look something like this.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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