Duke Nukem, in stasis from 1996 to 2011, comes back as the Austin Powers of the video game world. The blond, muscled Arnold stand-in not only shares Austin Powers’ addiction to silly double entendres, but emerges from a halting, seemingly endless development process to find himself a stranger in a strange land.
At a time when games in genres traditionally suitable for players of all ages drop F-bombs in their opening cinematics (the sports game “Fight Night Champion,” the platformer remake of “Bionic Commando”), video games’ first “cool” protagonist (Sonic pre-dated him — barely — but did Sonic wear sunglasses?) comes across as that least expected of things: passe. Like Austin Powers, Duke Nukem’s fish-out-of-water plight can be charming — a joke about people “cheating” with online walkthroughs is a nod to how much times have changed — but for the most part, what may have been shocking at the time of the game’s intended release comes across as just lame. Press a button in front of urinals, and “Duke Nukem Forever” lets you pee! Har-dee, I guess.
“Duke Nukem Forever,” then, must rely on strong gameplay to get by, but, like with the script, for every bright spot, like trading missiles with a giant alien on a futuristic football field, there are corridor-clearing sections just one rung up the ladder from sloggery. This is “Duke Nukem,” right? Why are there platforming parts? Why do I have to screw with nightvision? Didn’t the developers learn more from Nukem understudy Serious Sam? That stand-in sunglassed savior’s “First Encounter” in 2001 grabbed the chaingun by the horns with a gusto “Forever” can only envy.
| ‘Duke Nukem Forever’ |
| » Systems: PS3, Xbox 360, PC |
| » Price: $59.99, $49.99 |
| » Rating: 2 out of 5 stars |
In the end, pretty much anyone who sits down with “Duke Nukem Forever” won’t be able to help smirking from time to time, and more than they might expect. But even if you’re a hard-core series fan hopped up on memories of “Duke Nukem 3D,” or a self-styled industry expert for whom this is an essential piece of game history, “Forever” is further proof that, so often, anticipation is better than realization. In this case, yearning for a lost game beats playing something that happens to share the lost game’s title.
