It really won’t be your fault – you’re trying to aim and the game just simply won’t let you. The bullet sponge enemies are a dutiful pain in the ass, and you’ll die more often than not for ‘absolute bulls**t’, which in Crime Boss’ case is a genuine reason. Melee is a joke and about as useful as a vibrator made of marzipan and the shooting is dreadful. Rockay City has a myriad of issues, none more prevalent than the combat itself. It’s a fascinating performance for all the wrong reasons, the developers just appear satisfied she turned up at all. It’s Tobey Maguire in the Spider-Man games but somehow excruciatingly more lazy. Noted, they all sound like none of them give two shits about their performance, but boy does it stand out when Basinger is on screen. If anyone has turned up for the paycheque, it’s Kim Basinger. Kim Basinger plays Casey with no redeeming features or style or ethos or passion or skill or with any real point. His only real buddy is Touchdown, pierced and tattooed to within an inch of his life and played by Michael Rooker, seemingly the only actor here still working with any real success. Madsen’s Travis Baker wants a crime empire and to sit atop the throne in Rockay City now the seat is available and well, he goes up against a colourful cast of utter dross in order to get there. If you’re paying attention then everyone sucks, and no worse than Vanilla Ice’s fucking Hielo, whose first scene is just him shouting at a woman and calling her a bitch for five minutes. Every character is crap, which means this game has no real place to go in terms of having somebody to root for. While you may have seen a 90’s version of Michael Madsen doing a rather atypical version of himself in the trailers, it’s somehow even worse in the actual game. Turning attention to the game’s primary characters, they’re all garbage. Rockay City is turning up to the Superbowl with a golf ball. Films were cool as f**k in the 90’s, and Rockay City takes that ball and runs with it only to fumble before it hits the halfway line. ![]() It was Tarantino’s era, we were just living in it. ![]() Confidential poster (we were way into the 2000’s before she played Eminem’s trailer bound Mum in 8 Mile) and Chuck Norris being, well, Chuck Norris. Blonde donning every college wall, Kim Basinger stopping traffic with that L.A. You couldn’t move without seeing Michael Madsen’s Mr. It was also chock-full of Chuck Norris knock off movies about as gloriously camp as Rockay City itself. If you were American it was all Cadillac’s, bleached blonde hair and learning who Dido was. It was a hell of a time to grow up in, if you were a pasty English boy like me. Dreams could only get better, football was coming home, politicians actually acted like politicians (for the most part) and Len knew it was up for them if you stole their sunshine. The magical era where anything was possible.
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