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Deliver At All Costs review
They say that if you ignore your detractors, you also have to ignore the praise. But I'm proud that my boss told me I'm a good courier. "I am a good courier", I think, ramming a remote control corvette destined for a local child's chimney into a pedestrian's shins, knocking them skyward, zipping away before the sound of soft bones on hard concrete catches up with me. "The best courier," I nod, reversing my truck into a beach-front bar on the way to fumigate a truckful of rotting melons. "The best damn courier in town!", I exclaim, honking my newly-installed cursehorn, shattering nearby windows and streetlights into glinting injury confetti. Sometimes, confidence is more valuable than a measured perspective on things, and if you need to focus on the praise to block out the little voice telling you the way you're driving to these sun-kissed surf guitars is less Dennis Wilson, more Charlie Manson, so be it. Deliver At All Costs has me thinking a lot about confidence, in fact. It invokes GTA with a linked series of open maps, constantly devil-whispering your attention away from main and side missions with the promise of the hallowed fuckaboutsesh - smashable suburbia detailed down to the individual fence picket taking the place of rocket launchers and car pile-ups. But tragically, it's also cursed with a lack of confidence that this is enough. It wants to be something more. Read more
They say that if you ignore your detractors, you also have to ignore the praise. But I'm proud that my boss told me I'm a good courier. "I am a good courier", I think, ramming a remote control corvette destined for a local child's chimney into a pedestrian's shins, knocking them skyward, zipping away before the sound of soft bones on hard concrete catches up with me. "The best courier," I nod, reversing my truck into a beach-front bar on the way to fumigate a truckful of rotting melons. "The best damn courier in town!", I exclaim, honking my newly-installed cursehorn, shattering nearby windows and streetlights into glinting injury confetti.
Sometimes, confidence is more valuable than a measured perspective on things, and if you need to focus on the praise to block out the little voice telling you the way you're driving to these sun-kissed surf guitars is less Dennis Wilson, more Charlie Manson, so be it. Deliver At All Costs has me thinking a lot about confidence, in fact. It invokes GTA with a linked series of open maps, constantly devil-whispering your attention away from main and side missions with the promise of the hallowed fuckaboutsesh - smashable suburbia detailed down to the individual fence picket taking the place of rocket launchers and car pile-ups. But tragically, it's also cursed with a lack of confidence that this is enough. It wants to be something more.
