The End is Nigh: God of War II

‘The End is Nigh’ is a weekly column by Martin Gaston, pondering the nature of videogame endings and why we do or don’t choose to finish the games we play. This week: God of War II, and telling the whole of Mount Olympus to come and have a go if they think they’re hard enough.

God of War II is epic. As a sequel, it sticks with what it knows. You travel through time to cheat death for the second time (third if you count the original Faustian bargain struck with Ares), escape the Underworld again and pop the heads off Gorgons for the sixty millionth time. It’s all dressed up around the need to find another god who’s wronged you and kick him in the face until he dies. Again.

It works. Oh, how it works. I completed my first run of the game (it’s about ten hours long) in two sittings; it would have been one if I didn’t end up getting frustrated by a particularly irksome boss two-thirds of the way through. Still, a rare feat for someone who likes to slowly nibble his way through games, chipping away in tiny hour-long chunks until the end credits.

To correctly understand exactly why it’s so moreish involves knowledge of complicated bits to game design that I could never possibly hope to understand. What’s clear is that it’s got tremendous pacing, throwing up sections and challenges in just the right order to stay compelling but rarely frustrating. Combat bits, for instance, conjure just enough enemies for the player to feel that Kratos is getting an opportunity break a sweat but never outstay their welcome. You only need to look at Dante’s Inferno to realise that must be a hard balance to strike – every developer would be doing it if it was easy, and they’re definitely not.

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Despite its many imitations, one of the main reasons it’s never been bettered – in my humble opinion, anyway – is in its tremendous sense of weight. Everything carries a resistance, however slight, to Kratos sticking his pointy sword on a chain through their abdomen, so as you hammer away at the button to push the blade deeper you get a very real sense that Kratos is doing the same. Each boss is famously defeated with a QTE scene – which takes joint first with the colour brown as the worst thing in modern videogames, though this is excused – often so grisly you’ll be half-tempted to look away, which just serves to showcase how much of a struggle it is to take down these superlative beasts. It’s one of the very few games you could actually get away with describing as visceral, though I won’t because it would cause our beloved editor to have a heart attack.

Even opening a chest makes Kratos buckle at the knees and grunt in exasperation. It’s the medium’s best ever take on David Vs Goliath. Compared to his enormous world, Kratos is so very small. He is but one man against the whole of Olympus, and when the camera pans out you feel like a tiny ant on an impossible quest. Well, impossible for anybody else – Kratos’ unshakeable determination has an effect on the player, too.

It also helps that the production values are immense. Simply clicking ‘New Game’ causes your television to explode with sight and sound, with a grand booming aural accompaniment alongside the resplendent spectacle of mount Olympus and a thunderous voiceover.

God of War II is a standout example of a developer refining their craft for the inevitable sequel. The first God of War was good but didn’t quite understand how to pace itself: it put both of its bosses right near the beginning and left you hacking through mooks until the finale, for instance. The sequel might dazzle you with the same brash antics and hyperviolence, but underneath the hood is a game that wholeheartedly understands the details. You simply can’t help but finish it.

Martin Gaston is a staff writer at Play.tm.