Unfortunately, figuring out how to work the controller is absolutely infuriating, meaning you go into firefights against stealthy Charlie with no knowledge of your environment, opponent, or weapon.

The ordinary race-and-chaser’s loosely knit compilation of repetitive Mini Cooper showdowns has a recognizable scene or two, but that’s about it.

The drab pacing isn’t helped by clunky controls and muddy graphics.

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

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.

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

If you do a good job, you might even get a free donut or two.

Do the front lines give you the shakes? Then skip the "let's go boys!" bravado, settle into a more comfortable overhead viewpoint, and orchestrate 40 missions that include famous battles like D-Day and Operation Market Garden. [Aug 2004, p.90]

The ordinary race-and-chaser’s loosely knit compilation of repetitive Mini Cooper showdowns has a recognizable scene or two, but that’s about it.

We forsee you buying this game, enjoying it at first, getting frustrated at certain parts, then putting it on your shelf after you’re done and rarely playing it again.

Fate also dispenses with T2’s cyborg-boy love plot, so you can focus on blasting titanium drones into nuts and bolts.

We forsee you buying this game, enjoying it at first, getting frustrated at certain parts, then putting it on your shelf after you’re done and rarely playing it again.

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.

Like the movie, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is quite an ambitious undertaking. Unlike the movie, it doesn’t consistently deliver the goods.

The basic game hasn’t changed from the “run, jiggle, shoot” style we know and love, ensuring Lara will be every bit the guilty pleasure she’s always been.

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

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.

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

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.

Ingest evidence rather than confiscate it and you'll develop embarrassing addictions you can kick only via meter-driven mini-games, or you'll get busted in a random drug test.

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

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

Though it’s sure to have Senate subcommittees soiling their Depends and declaring the end of Western civilization, jaded gamers will no doubt dig the surprisingly amusing vocal and visual gags that spice up what would otherwise be a moderately paced, story-driven shoot-em-up.

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.

We forsee you buying this game, enjoying it at first, getting frustrated at certain parts, then putting it on your shelf after you’re done and rarely playing it again.

Ingest evidence rather than confiscate it and you’ll develop embarrassing addictions you can kick only via meter-driven mini-games, or you’ll get busted in a random drug test.

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

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.