There’s something irresistible about
Rubi Malone.
If you’ve met her, you’ve probably
noticed. Her eyes, as dark as the thick, tousled locks that conceal them, are as
mesmerizing for their beauty as the secrets they hide. Her lips surely tender no
clues, moistened by the whiskey she swallows in gulps, but as she lifts her
tattooed arms and dries her pouty, provocative pair of the golden, malted-grain
spirits trickling down them, the scorching sun glistens off her sweaty midriff,
and secrets stop mattering.
It’s easy to fall head-over-heels
for Rubi Malone, but if you don’t do so on your own accord, it’s easier for her
to send you head-over-heels herself.
If you’ve met Rubi Malone, see,
chances are you’re already dead.
The fatal raven-haired protagonist
of Artificial Mind and Movement’s WET, Rubi is a professional problem-solver — a
“fixer,” if you prefer. For the right amount of money, she’ll do almost
anything, and she certainly doesn’t allow her conscience to obstruct a potential
payday. Rubi doesn’t ask questions, and she seems to show no contrition for the
things she’s paid to do.
Or the people she’s paid to kill.
While her sexy style is her most
obvious appeal, Rubi’s amoral outlook on the world around her is perhaps her
most captivating trait. For Rubi, there’s no right or wrong, just or unjust,
fair or unfair — there is only a customer, an assignment and, most importantly,
a briefcase of cash. Indeed, even as she hunts down genuine villains in WET’s
story and executes them one-by-one, she only seems to do so because they’ve
screwed her out of a payment.
Rubi’s unscrupulous ethos is perhaps
best illustrated in the game’s finale, when she decapitates a drug lord who
hired her to bring him his rival’s only son, whom he murders. Rubi hasn’t hunted
him to levy justice for the killing, though — she does so because he didn’t pay
her, and after she exacts her revenge, she picks up a stack of blood-soaked cash
near his corpse.
“Eh, close enough,” she mutters as
she walks away, counting the bills and offering no apology to the father of the
young man she brought to death.
Heroes don’t work for villains.
Heroes don’t create piles of corpses just to claim piles of cash. Rubi Malone
isn’t a hero — she’s an anti-hero, and her character is more interesting because
of it. She’s the star of a show packed with bizarre, eccentric characters who
give WET a unique charm and also fuel the game’s Tarantino-esque narrative and
strong cinematic flair.
Despite all the game does well in
terms of story and staging, however, it doesn’t quite fulfill the promise of
either. A few gameplay flaws hinder what might’ve been, and nimble Rubi doesn’t
move as smoothly as she should.
Maybe it’s the whiskey.
Though it’s a third-person shooter
with genetics similar to Max Payne and Stranglehold, WET splices those
influences with the acrobatic DNA of Tomb Raider and Prince of Persia, resulting
in unique gameplay that tries to be as sleek and stylish as the game’s
presentation. Players are tasked with killing enemies consecutively, stacking
the dead in the highest combinations and chains possible while Rubi gracefully
scampers through levels as if she’s performing an interpretive dance routine,
albeit an extremely fatal one.
Imagine a gymnast shooting pistols
as she whirls and twirls through midair, in fact, and you’ll have a good point
of comparison for Rubi’s bloody ballet.
In motion, WET’s surreal,
high-flying action can appear complex, but it’s really just a matter of a few
buttons. When Rubi meets a group of enemies, you can initiate an acrobatic kill
by diving, sliding or running across a nearby wall. Begin firing a weapon in
motion, and the camera automatically enters a slow-motion mode — this is where
things get interesting. Because she dual-wields any weapon you’ve equipped, she
can fire at two enemies in unison. While Rubi automatically aims at one foe,
you’ll handle aiming at another, and you can chain several kills before her
deadly dance concludes.
In continuity with WET’s
presentation strengths, Rubi’s murderous flair is wickedly stylish, but
unfortunately, it’s often hampered by awkward controls. Given the game’s
acrobatic nature, you’ll want to pirouette through its levels smoothly, but
controlling Rubi sometimes feels painfully imprecise, which is counterproductive
to the nimble, run-and-gun feel WET strives to create.
The game’s biggest issues, however,
are repetition and anticlimax.
Once the initial rush of stringing
together acrobatic headshots wears off, WET’s substance proves comparatively
thinner than its rich style. Although the game tries to prevent eventual
monotony by adding occasional twists to Rubi’s journey, including on-rails car
chases in which she rides atop moving vehicles and an airborne scene in which
she plummets from a crashing jet, the repetitive nature of the bulk of the
levels can become a tad tiresome.
Repetition might’ve been overlooked,
however, if not for WET’s tendency toward the anticlimactic, a flaw mostly
evident in the game’s insistence on using quick-time events during its coolest
moments. From chase scenes to boss battles, WET takes control away from the
players just when it starts getting most interesting by forcing you into lame
button-prompt QTEs.
Because there’s nothing more
exciting than a button prompt.
I’m not necessarily opposed to QTEs,
but when its plot builds to a stirring crescendo, the game should entrust
control of rabid, revenge-fueled Rubi to the player so invested in the story and
eager to inflict retribution, but instead, WET turns to pre-canned button
sequences. It preserves the game’s superb cinematic presentation, sure, but it
does so at the sake of interactivity.
Grindhouse film and cinematography
are fine influences, but particularly for those dramatic apexes, a little
self-reflection might’ve done WET well.
After all, it’s playing in a
video-game console, not a drive-in theater.
But drawbacks aren’t the only result
of its film influences. Grindhouse film homages define WET’s eccentric style,
from its over-the-top vulgarities and exaggerated violence to its gritty
graphics, and though it isn’t a stunner on a technical level, the game’s style
is consistently engrossing. Whether it’s the deliberately textured film-grain
graphics filter or the abrupt cut of a filmstrip when Rubi dies, these
theatrical touches amplify the crudeness of WET’s warped, iniquitous, sinful and
blood-soaked B-movie visual revelry.
Rubi’s rage modes, during which she
enters a murderous rampage and the graphics shift to stylized red, white and
black, are especially nice touches.
WET’s stellar presentation is
further fueled by its energetic soundtrack, a highlight I’d be remiss not to
mention. The music is an ideal companion for the game’s seedy tone, featuring
lyrics that often accentuate the action on-screen — during one of her arena
battles, a song warns “my baby’s driving me insane” as Rubi slices through her
enemies like butter. Featuring acts such as The Arkhams, Creepin’ Cadavers and
Gypsy Pistoleros, WET’s rocking soundtrack is a masterfully assembled rarity
truly worth noting.
But once the roar of the amplifiers
fades and the nefarious thrill caused by WET’s tight pants, stylish kills and
vulgar language loses its novelty, is there enough of a game beneath the pools
of blood to warrant interest? Ultimately, that depends on your expectations —
like the sleazy films it prides itself on mimicking, WET is an unapologetically
sordid exercise in blood, sex, and rock ‘n roll, a made-for-popcorn slab of
flawed-but-fun action gaming.
I don’t know about you, but that’s
more than enough for me.
Gameplay: 7.0
Rubi’s stylish slow-motion kills are as fun to perform as they are to watch,
and they’re extremely satisfying to chain together. Otherwise, controlling her
can occasionally feel a little imprecise, which can result in cheap deaths.
Graphics: 6.5
WET’s fantastic style covers up its average, run-of-the-mill graphics.
Sound: 8.5
One of the highlights of the game’s presentational elements, WET has an
excellent soundtrack and voice work highlighted by actress Elisha Dushku’s
performance as Rubi Malone. The music, in particular, is perfectly fitting.
Difficulty: Medium
In addition to multiple difficulty modes, WET features a steadily increasing
challenge that can be quite difficult in the later levels and arena battles.
Concept: 8.5
WET’s vulgar, bloody, grindhouse-inspired concept is sinfully entertaining
and well-done, and the acrobatic, slow-motion combat is a lot of fun, too.
Overall: 7.5
Like the films from which it draws inspiration, WET is an unapologetically
sordid exercise in blood, sex, and rock ‘n roll, a made-for-popcorn slab of
flawed-but-fun action gaming. And that’s more than enough for me.
