With about zero fanfare or surprise to anyone, the pre-release character customization utility for Saints Row IV was released. Let's have a look at what's inside...
First off, you'll notice about 95% of the previous game's customization content is available. It's the same clothes placed in the same order, albeit with some different default colour choices. A few new standouts can be found, like the male and female versions of the all-purple Presidential Suit, along with some obviously weird options that probably fit at your closest Leather & Lace or Nobody Loves Me. There's one or two new haircuts, a few less colour options... This really does cement the impression that the new game is essentially an “expandalone”, with the engine having received barely anything more than a default Bloom effect that'll probably look more convincing in-game.
Vocally, there's a few changes to be noted. Troy Baker, Laura Bailey, Robin Atkin Downes et al. are all still up for grabs for your Commander in Chief's chosen set of vocal cords, but the Latina preset has been swapped for a French one. One of her demo lines of speech involves the Présidente des États-Unis d'Amérique putting a ban on one of the most vile of American products : cheese. I got a few chuckles out of that. Who likes Velveeta, anyway?
However, the most remarkable of alterations involves the Zombie voice set being swapped for Nolan North making a picture-perfect impersonation of... himself. So, yeah. Now you've got two voice acting giants to choose from for your character's pipes. I think I would've popped myself an ASMR if they'd convinced Keith David (who already plays himself as your VP) to lend his raspy Goliath voice to the player character.
Still, I'm not adverse to the prospect of “Northerning” the former gang kingpin – as long as I get to give him a ratty beige shirt and some pistol slings, or a pair of katanas and a black-and-red mask. As considering how insane Saints Row IV is shaping out to be, basterdizing Deadpool and sticking him in Virtual Steelport during alien occupation feels like a natural fit.
In recent news, though, the removal of 106.66 FM from Steelport's airwaves has been making some rounds. Some liked The Blood and its take on more mainstream Heavy Metal, others decried the fact that the station had never really dished out the classics of the genre. This isn't surprising, considering how THQ used to be in dire financial straits and Deep Silver doesn't have endless pockets, either. I doubt licenses for Metallica or Slayer tracks would come cheap. Considering, I don't terribly mind. Seeing as you've always been free to point the game to your own set of MP3's, that's easy enough to rectify. Any entreprising audio producer could whip up a convincing radio station analog for himself with a little work.
Of course, none of this equals a decent demo's offered experience, but the game's release is only a few weeks away, now. We'll all get to see if pole dancing can be inaugurated as America's new national sport in short order.
Quickie: Saints Row IV Inauguration Station
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IamLEAM1983
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IamLEAM1983
- Site Admin
- Posts: 3709
- Joined: Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am
- Location: Quebec, Canada
Saints Row IV Preview (SPOILERS)
Spoiler Warning. Don't read ahead if you're serious about experiencing the game's opening hour for yourself.
I've played the opening to Saints Row IV and I can confirm that it's strong. It's quite silly, of course, but very, very solid. The basic movement and action mechanics are introduced, as are the personalities of both the major Saints and that of the protagonist. Like the previous game, the opening segment keeps your appearance and identity a secret – the hook being a Black Ops mission, this time around. I don't think it's been explained in the opening cutscene (which is surprisingly minimalistic), but the gist of it is that the Hobson's choice presented in the previous game is assumed to have gone on in one of two directions, and that Cyrus Temple's STAG initiative suffered for it. He's turned to Middle Eastern terrorists in a bid to attack the United States and rid it of what he perceives to be the protagonist's particularly noxious influence. No mention is made of Monica Hughes, but it seems fair to assume that your meteoric rise destroyed her political career.
So – you've gone from two-bit hoodlum to media icon to superspy who saves the day in one of those rare instances where we get to see how Volition does know how to handle smaller interior spaces with aplomb. For the first ten minutes, you'll swear you're playing a sleeker and less serious take on Spec Ops : The Line; as your MI6 contact can only slump her shoulders and sigh as you abandon all stealth in a pre-scripted sequence and generally lay down the law the only way the Saints' boss knows: noisily, ridiculously, but efficiently.
All's well and good until your clowning around with guns akimbo distracts MI6 agent Asha Odekar and her liaison (The Third's Matt Miller), and leads them to realize that Temple opted to try for one last act of bravado against you, and detonated a nuclear warhead that's due to hit Washington. With seconds on the clock, you sprint to the missile and begin a difficult ascent of its surface – all the while acoustically backed by the hilariously appropriate I don't want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith. Your allies break down in amusing fashion as they suddenly realize you've thrown your life away to save the free world; the tearful goodbyes of Shaundi and Pierce being particularly touching – and grin-inducing.
The catch is that, of course, you don't die. You manage to detonate the warhead somewhere above Washington D.C., plummet your way to the surface, crash through the White House's dome and land precisely in the desk chair in the Oval Office. The Saints Boss proceeds to kick back and, well, voilà.
Rewards unlocked : Adoration of Millions. Presidency Achieved!
That's it. You're elected. You blew up a freaking nuke over D.C. - but you're eligible. The masses love you that much. Go fig. I think it's hilarious.
The character creation process has already been covered in my Quickie for the Inauguration Station, but the actual character creation screen that follows the intro mission differs from what the previous game offered in amusing ways. First, each preset is presented as a magasine cover that lampoons an existing celeb-and-or-politics-oriented rag. There's a Sports Illustrated reference, a Maxim reference for male Latin-Americans – and the option to download created characters is presented in a mock WIRED cover (here rechristened CACHE). Whatever you pick, a new ticker will scroll at the bottom of the customization screen, showing amusing items regarding your tenure as the Commander in Chief. You're apparently being played by Josh Birk for a number of biopics, and the Saints have managed to worm their way into the MPAA to the extent that the insufferable hollywoodian berk (aha, wordplay) is actually pre-nominated for four Oscars.
Hit Done and the game whizzes through your first five years in office, showing that for all of your extravagant style and iconoclastic demands and requirements (you keep a tiger as the official White House pet and have renamed the place as the White Crib), things aren't going too well. People seem to have half a brain, seeing as how your approval rating is nosediving. Pierce and Benjamin King are pedaling hard to try and keep you in the race for the next term, but the odds aren't looking too good. You're on your way to your yearly State of the Union address in front of journalists diverse – including Jean Valderama – when Shaundi accosts you.
Apparently, your old MI6 buds have some pretty serious concerns they'd like to share, but your character is all too quick to blow them off. Asha and Matt seem to have reason enough to believe that the Earth is under the threat of alien invasion – but your character seems to have at least three brain cells to spare towards not giving much credit to stories of lizardmen and government ploys to “hide the truth”. He'd know, right? He's the President, after all!
Quicker than you can mention the trope about odds being mentioned, the conference room's ceiling collapses as curiously tall, muscular and yet foppish aliens levitate towards the ground. Their leader, Zinyak, packs all the tropes you'd associate to a Grade-A villain. His Received Pronunciation is flawless, he responds to the humans' understandable panic with an unshakable phlegm, and he takes the time to land a few infuriatingly pleasant barbs towards those he wishes to abduct. Zinyak mentions he's looking for the best and brightest of Humanity – which means that Kinzie Kenzington, your Communications Director, immediately raises her hand and declares herself to be the smartest person in the room.
Insert Grin and Facepalm Here.
To be fair, the conference's early setup did suggest the former FBI tech specialist hates her new job. That shouldn't be surprising, seeing as Kinzie was a sheltered and bookish professional hacker previously working for the USA's main letter agency. Why the Hell would anyone stick a tech nerd in a people-person job? This comically underlines the overall incompetence of your character, even if the remainder of the sequence also highlights your sociopathic take on a can-do streak. You've tweaked the Oval Office to actually carry a hidden treasure trove of weaponry, while the White House's front lawn hides a manually operated missile battery.
I'll let that sink in for a second. There's a manually operated missile battery hidden away on the White House's front lawn.
You manage to knock Zinyak and his pals out of the sky, but his technological prowess prevents you from besting him at fisticuffs. You're always somewhere around six feet tall, while the Zin all apparently stand closer to seven feet. He's got a little more than a head on you – along with fairly kickass mental abilities to which you're currently extremely vulnerable. You're knocked out no matter how hard you fight and eventually wake up in quite a bit of an indirect reference...
Ever played Fallout 3? There's an area in the game that's referred to as Tranquility Lane. It's the simulation of a perfect suburban neighbourhood circa 1952, rife with Leave it to Beaver reference and your expected trove of grinning milkmen, Ink Spots singles and June Cleaver wives. Well, the Boss wakes up in an environment that's much like this, complete with cheesy sitcom opening. Apparently starring in the Truman Show-like Leave it to the Saints, you've been brainwashed to live in with Shaundi and indulge in every single stereotype that makes up your average idealized fifties' suburban existence. Curiously enough, mention of a certain Dex is made by Shaundi Cleaver... If you've played Saints Row II, this should strike a chord.
So, Steelport's been made to look like a grinning, perfect slice of the past. You can spend practically forever in this little microcosm, driving vintage cars that won't make it in what is soon to be the game's main playground. Cops are grudgingly tolerant of whatever (intentionally tame) mayhem you can attempt to cause, and curses are bleeped. We don't use that kind of language in Steelport, mister...
Steer for a certain milk bar, though, and the illusion soon crumbles. The Boss wakes up from his sauntering little fever dream, prompting Zinyak to go for a do-over of Virtual Steelport. You've almost broken free of his prison of peace and happiness? Well, he'd like to see you break out of a joint where everyone you've ever locked away or put down is alive and well – and wants a piece of you...
This is where my preview ended, but it does present an interesting opportunity. What would Steelport be like if Philippe Loren had been able to integrate the Ronin or the Samedi into his Syndicate? Would Zinyak try and back the cyberspace-enabled Deckers more than normal circumstances would have made possible?
Or more importantly, what if Johnny Gat were still alive? What if Eliza Duskhu had never been traded off as Shaundi's voice actress? As far as I can understand, the game opens up for a round of virtual reality-based mayhem, helped by the fact that Kinzie is back in her element. While you're busy trying to unplug yourself, she'll try her best to bend the simulation's rules to suit your needs. Data caches are required, however – and this is where you realize Volition is cribbing from Realtime Worlds...
Super-jumping from place to place so I can get an upgrade for my superpowers? Oh, fuck... There's a silver lining, however, in that the new sense of verticality this brings to Steelport is a welcomed addition. The flipside of that is that cars are very quickly made irrelevant. You can still jack and customize them as you see fit – but what's the point of going hunting for a Temptress when you can simply bound across a few city blocks? What's the point of driving, actually?
Still, I won't complain. Steelport is still Steelport, but it isn't quite a shameless redo or remake, thanks to how many vertical elements there are to scale. The supercharged mêlée finishers are extremely entertaining, and unloading at a cluster of Ronin to realize they're actually Zin soldiers in disguise is endlessly entertaining.
Insofar, the game looks fun, downright silly, and every bit the crazy-insane romp I expected it to be. Check the Reviews section again around the twentieth; I'll try and give you my impressions regarding the oft-mentioned Dubstep Gun...
I've played the opening to Saints Row IV and I can confirm that it's strong. It's quite silly, of course, but very, very solid. The basic movement and action mechanics are introduced, as are the personalities of both the major Saints and that of the protagonist. Like the previous game, the opening segment keeps your appearance and identity a secret – the hook being a Black Ops mission, this time around. I don't think it's been explained in the opening cutscene (which is surprisingly minimalistic), but the gist of it is that the Hobson's choice presented in the previous game is assumed to have gone on in one of two directions, and that Cyrus Temple's STAG initiative suffered for it. He's turned to Middle Eastern terrorists in a bid to attack the United States and rid it of what he perceives to be the protagonist's particularly noxious influence. No mention is made of Monica Hughes, but it seems fair to assume that your meteoric rise destroyed her political career.
So – you've gone from two-bit hoodlum to media icon to superspy who saves the day in one of those rare instances where we get to see how Volition does know how to handle smaller interior spaces with aplomb. For the first ten minutes, you'll swear you're playing a sleeker and less serious take on Spec Ops : The Line; as your MI6 contact can only slump her shoulders and sigh as you abandon all stealth in a pre-scripted sequence and generally lay down the law the only way the Saints' boss knows: noisily, ridiculously, but efficiently.
All's well and good until your clowning around with guns akimbo distracts MI6 agent Asha Odekar and her liaison (The Third's Matt Miller), and leads them to realize that Temple opted to try for one last act of bravado against you, and detonated a nuclear warhead that's due to hit Washington. With seconds on the clock, you sprint to the missile and begin a difficult ascent of its surface – all the while acoustically backed by the hilariously appropriate I don't want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith. Your allies break down in amusing fashion as they suddenly realize you've thrown your life away to save the free world; the tearful goodbyes of Shaundi and Pierce being particularly touching – and grin-inducing.
The catch is that, of course, you don't die. You manage to detonate the warhead somewhere above Washington D.C., plummet your way to the surface, crash through the White House's dome and land precisely in the desk chair in the Oval Office. The Saints Boss proceeds to kick back and, well, voilà.
Rewards unlocked : Adoration of Millions. Presidency Achieved!
That's it. You're elected. You blew up a freaking nuke over D.C. - but you're eligible. The masses love you that much. Go fig. I think it's hilarious.
The character creation process has already been covered in my Quickie for the Inauguration Station, but the actual character creation screen that follows the intro mission differs from what the previous game offered in amusing ways. First, each preset is presented as a magasine cover that lampoons an existing celeb-and-or-politics-oriented rag. There's a Sports Illustrated reference, a Maxim reference for male Latin-Americans – and the option to download created characters is presented in a mock WIRED cover (here rechristened CACHE). Whatever you pick, a new ticker will scroll at the bottom of the customization screen, showing amusing items regarding your tenure as the Commander in Chief. You're apparently being played by Josh Birk for a number of biopics, and the Saints have managed to worm their way into the MPAA to the extent that the insufferable hollywoodian berk (aha, wordplay) is actually pre-nominated for four Oscars.
Hit Done and the game whizzes through your first five years in office, showing that for all of your extravagant style and iconoclastic demands and requirements (you keep a tiger as the official White House pet and have renamed the place as the White Crib), things aren't going too well. People seem to have half a brain, seeing as how your approval rating is nosediving. Pierce and Benjamin King are pedaling hard to try and keep you in the race for the next term, but the odds aren't looking too good. You're on your way to your yearly State of the Union address in front of journalists diverse – including Jean Valderama – when Shaundi accosts you.
Apparently, your old MI6 buds have some pretty serious concerns they'd like to share, but your character is all too quick to blow them off. Asha and Matt seem to have reason enough to believe that the Earth is under the threat of alien invasion – but your character seems to have at least three brain cells to spare towards not giving much credit to stories of lizardmen and government ploys to “hide the truth”. He'd know, right? He's the President, after all!
Quicker than you can mention the trope about odds being mentioned, the conference room's ceiling collapses as curiously tall, muscular and yet foppish aliens levitate towards the ground. Their leader, Zinyak, packs all the tropes you'd associate to a Grade-A villain. His Received Pronunciation is flawless, he responds to the humans' understandable panic with an unshakable phlegm, and he takes the time to land a few infuriatingly pleasant barbs towards those he wishes to abduct. Zinyak mentions he's looking for the best and brightest of Humanity – which means that Kinzie Kenzington, your Communications Director, immediately raises her hand and declares herself to be the smartest person in the room.
Insert Grin and Facepalm Here.
To be fair, the conference's early setup did suggest the former FBI tech specialist hates her new job. That shouldn't be surprising, seeing as Kinzie was a sheltered and bookish professional hacker previously working for the USA's main letter agency. Why the Hell would anyone stick a tech nerd in a people-person job? This comically underlines the overall incompetence of your character, even if the remainder of the sequence also highlights your sociopathic take on a can-do streak. You've tweaked the Oval Office to actually carry a hidden treasure trove of weaponry, while the White House's front lawn hides a manually operated missile battery.
I'll let that sink in for a second. There's a manually operated missile battery hidden away on the White House's front lawn.
You manage to knock Zinyak and his pals out of the sky, but his technological prowess prevents you from besting him at fisticuffs. You're always somewhere around six feet tall, while the Zin all apparently stand closer to seven feet. He's got a little more than a head on you – along with fairly kickass mental abilities to which you're currently extremely vulnerable. You're knocked out no matter how hard you fight and eventually wake up in quite a bit of an indirect reference...
Ever played Fallout 3? There's an area in the game that's referred to as Tranquility Lane. It's the simulation of a perfect suburban neighbourhood circa 1952, rife with Leave it to Beaver reference and your expected trove of grinning milkmen, Ink Spots singles and June Cleaver wives. Well, the Boss wakes up in an environment that's much like this, complete with cheesy sitcom opening. Apparently starring in the Truman Show-like Leave it to the Saints, you've been brainwashed to live in with Shaundi and indulge in every single stereotype that makes up your average idealized fifties' suburban existence. Curiously enough, mention of a certain Dex is made by Shaundi Cleaver... If you've played Saints Row II, this should strike a chord.
So, Steelport's been made to look like a grinning, perfect slice of the past. You can spend practically forever in this little microcosm, driving vintage cars that won't make it in what is soon to be the game's main playground. Cops are grudgingly tolerant of whatever (intentionally tame) mayhem you can attempt to cause, and curses are bleeped. We don't use that kind of language in Steelport, mister...
Steer for a certain milk bar, though, and the illusion soon crumbles. The Boss wakes up from his sauntering little fever dream, prompting Zinyak to go for a do-over of Virtual Steelport. You've almost broken free of his prison of peace and happiness? Well, he'd like to see you break out of a joint where everyone you've ever locked away or put down is alive and well – and wants a piece of you...
This is where my preview ended, but it does present an interesting opportunity. What would Steelport be like if Philippe Loren had been able to integrate the Ronin or the Samedi into his Syndicate? Would Zinyak try and back the cyberspace-enabled Deckers more than normal circumstances would have made possible?
Or more importantly, what if Johnny Gat were still alive? What if Eliza Duskhu had never been traded off as Shaundi's voice actress? As far as I can understand, the game opens up for a round of virtual reality-based mayhem, helped by the fact that Kinzie is back in her element. While you're busy trying to unplug yourself, she'll try her best to bend the simulation's rules to suit your needs. Data caches are required, however – and this is where you realize Volition is cribbing from Realtime Worlds...
Super-jumping from place to place so I can get an upgrade for my superpowers? Oh, fuck... There's a silver lining, however, in that the new sense of verticality this brings to Steelport is a welcomed addition. The flipside of that is that cars are very quickly made irrelevant. You can still jack and customize them as you see fit – but what's the point of going hunting for a Temptress when you can simply bound across a few city blocks? What's the point of driving, actually?
Still, I won't complain. Steelport is still Steelport, but it isn't quite a shameless redo or remake, thanks to how many vertical elements there are to scale. The supercharged mêlée finishers are extremely entertaining, and unloading at a cluster of Ronin to realize they're actually Zin soldiers in disguise is endlessly entertaining.
Insofar, the game looks fun, downright silly, and every bit the crazy-insane romp I expected it to be. Check the Reviews section again around the twentieth; I'll try and give you my impressions regarding the oft-mentioned Dubstep Gun...