Review: Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (PS2)
l33tdawg: This game can only be described with one word - WICKED!
I honestly have no idea where this review is going to go, because I could talk about why I like San Andreas all day and not know when to shut the fuck up. I mean… shit. I’ll probably need years of therapy to stop me talking like a gangster now. Anyway, if you don’t know the back-story to San Andreas: Welcome to Earth and please check out our preview.
Right – best to get the baggage out of the way first. I did not enjoy the Driver series a great deal in the first place, but now I’m more inclined to equate playing DRIV3R with stepping on something a dog did and was probably immensely proud of. As far as I’m concerned, if the DRIV3R debacle proved anything, it’s that trying to make a game realistic and strait-laced is just futile.
Now you may not agree, and that’s fine (you Buster-ass mofo). You’ll find no quarter here though. Right here Gameplay is King and Realism is fastened to a rack in the deep, dark dungeon of Ain’t Never Coming Back. Make no mistake, San Andreas is slave to one mistress, and it’s not the pale and haggard bitch who’s pitched yells of “just you try driving into a lamppost at full speed” can still be heard echoing in the caverns below.
