L4D2: Super Engine, Super Human, Super Ego

After marveling at the fact that it only took my party and me 45 minutes to complete a Left 4 Dead 2 campaign that alone took me twice as long, we breathed a sigh of relief into our mics and pontificated the major differences between this game and its much loved, and apparently much preferred, big brother, Left 4 Dead. I personally am very much delighted by the new game, regardless of its release barely a year after the first. There was no new gameplay to learn, save for maybe a couple of zombie commands in Versus mode, nor was I attacked with an unnecessarily profound plot twist that might have spun the game into Kingdom Hearts mode until the creators unanimously decided on an ending that could finally rest. We have 4 new survivors in a completely different part of the country fighting off an infected population that sadly spread its way further than the metropolitan streets we explored in L4D. We have better guns, some new and nasty melee weapons, gruesome Specials, and some even more unnerving settings, both rural and urban.

"But," DJZ (as Coach) confessed, "they make these zombies way too hard."
"Yeah," replied Havokk (as Nick), "the Director is definitely out to take over everything!"

Let it be noted that Havokk takes credit for inventing (or at least coining the phrase) the "Death Run," during which each player sprints for their life to the safe room, ignoring as many zombies as possible, in hopes that at least one Survivor will make it to the end alive. Where that proved successful maybe 40% of the time in L4D where the levels and AI became predictable to the seasoned player, L4D2 has recognized players like my good friend Havokk and have literally placed a big sturdy wall in their way. It really isn't a problem for players like me who like to think that every run through a campaign might reveal a little surprise or two. It does, however, make the game about twice as difficult and usually requires a few more tried before finding the right path between the strategically placed Witch/Tank/Smoker/Spitter.

Isn't that what a new game is about, though? For a title that is so similar to its predecessor, shouldn't there be more challenges than sly maneuvers through knee-high swamp waters and roller-coaster tracks? If anything, just to make it to the final stand of each campaign itself should build up genuine excitement each time. L4D2 traded out a bland old boat house finale for a grand ol' plantation mansion middle surrounded by acres of backwater swamps and spooky shanty towns. And you can't tell me that running impatiently around a hospital rooftop waiting for a helicopter rescue still gets your heart racing faster than the sprint for your life across a busted bridge, where any false step or chance Charger could instantly bring you face to face with the Mississippi River. If any part of this game were to give in, especially to the fans who weren't too proud to remove the original from their Xbox trays and replace it with the sequel, Valve would have failed to deliver the adventure we all were hoping for.

"Well, maybe," retorted Havokk, "but what about the characters? What do we know about them? How can we even be certain these people even make the cut as Survivors?"
"That's right!" DJZ states. "There's no extra dialogue, save Ellis' rantings at the beginning of each level and the others shutting him up. It gets old, and no one else ever says anything."

Now this I can agree with. We all remember Zoey's hospital elevator rant about "calling zombie bullshit." And who doesn't chuckle whenever Francis mentions how much he hates, well, everything? These were moments where in the calm of a post-horde storm we were enlightened by the reminder that our Survivors did have personalities and were, in fact, human. It was proof of life before the infection.

All the life we have to go by in L4D2 is a few Valve renders of each character in his or her natural habitat before the outbreak--Coach, all smiles, witnessing his star player hit a home-run out of the park; Rochelle, clipboard in hand outside of a channel 10 news truck, desperate to make her big break in broadcast. Anything else outside of the obvious visual stimuli of each character is pretty much left to our own imagination. In fact, the only character who gets the most introduction and exalted storyline IS Ellis. The game makes sure to feed you a nice anecdote of his life at the beginning of almost every campaign. You can almost count more on being enlightened by a new Ellis-Keith adventure than you can that second pistol or Molotov being in the safe room when you respawn after an unsuccessful run-through. And who is this crazy man Keith? Obviously he is quite the daredevil/idiot/fortune-hunter; so why isn't HE "still alive?" For someone to take so much damage, as Ellis accounts, a mere zombie infection should not have been enough to take this superman out. As for the rest of the surviving team, we're pretty much left in the dark. Rochelle worked on a news team. One could only imagine the fascinating horror stories she encountered, especially during the last days before the outbreak when full-blown. And what about Nick? A man with that suave of a haircut and three-piece suit has got to have some tales of casino debauchery or maybe some run-in with the Russian mob. We don't know, because Valve won't let them talk! Instead, we get to know the meaning behind Ellis' "hard-ass zombie-killing machine" tattoo...and yet another epic tale of the legend Keith.

Overall I would still say that the game is a must for the Xbox360. If you have Live, you won't want to miss out on one of the sickest zombie-slaughter fests of the decade. For all the haters who swore against Valve's "premature" sequel, I can maybe understand you fear of such an involved game. Timing your chainsaw attack just right to grind a Hunter midair might be a bit too advanced for you. Also, you might not be up for the challenge of 2 Chargers, 4 walking Witches, and a torrent of good-ol' summer rain. Hey, it's not called the Dirty South for nothing.