Saints Row: The Third

Any game that centers even a small amount of its pre-release hype on the inclusion of a massive rubber sex toy as a weapon should be approached with due caution. Or at least in the right frame of mind - that is, the frame of mind of someone who fancies the idea of beating people to death with a purple dildo. A sandbox adventure which does its best to thrill and offend in equal measures, Saints Row: The Third is rough, ready, and ribbed for your pleasure. But before we get too excited about what it is, it's important to have a look at what it's not...

There will be those of you aching for a game to fill the void left when Grand Theft Auto IV ended. This is not that game. You'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise - the Saints Row series has long been considered GTA's edgier, less successful step-brother, so a new Saints game was always going to be met with comparisons to Rockstar Games' star franchise. On paper the two look similar too, checking many of the same boxes in terms of the recipe for sandbox gaming. But while Grand Theft Auto has tucked in its shirt and traded much of its gang banging irreverence for realism and character introspection, Saints Row: The Third chooses to roll around in its own puerile filth like a happy pig.

The premise is intriguing: having climbed the crooked ladder of organized crime, the Saints have become a household name - a monetized brand with its own soft drink, movie deal in the works and an army of fans. This could have made a neat departure from the usual "rags to riches" career path, but sadly it doesn't last. A frantic opening scene sees key Saints members blasting their way through a massive bank heist, but when the bank clerks turn out to be packing serious heat, the whole operation falls apart. After a brief spell in the slammer, our stars are whisked away by scantily clad members of the Syndicate, a rival gang with a proposition: either the Saints hand over most of their Stilwater turf, or die. An easy choice, obviously, and one that leaves our lads severely out of pocket and suddenly out of street cred too. Which sets us up for the well worn rags to riches formula after all.

That's the backstory, and while it's a passable one it hardly qualifies as pulitzer prize winning stuff. No, Saints Row: The Third doesn't lose any sleep over silly conventions like character development or interwoven narratives, choosing instead to bulldoze the audience with a torrent of ridiculous set pieces, explosions and toilet humour. Volition, Inc. uses shock and awe tactics to great effect - it's hard to take note of gameplay weaknesses or technical failings when you're trafficking sex workers, base jumping from your own balcony, destroying entire city districts in a Call of Duty-esque UAV sequence, or racing across town with a pissed off tiger in the passenger seat; Saints Row: The Third is just bursting with ludicrous gameplay moments, mostly handled with confidence and swagger to match the street stylings of the Third Street Saints themselves.

This ballsy confidence does well to distract, for a while. After extended play, a number of problems surface that not even the most abrasive, sexually-charged innuendos or the most chaotic helicopter chases can hide. The biggest problem is a lack of direction. It's probably understandable that the first few missions seem rushed and disjointed - they are there to show you the ropes, and there is a lot to learn for newcomers to the genre - but sadly this unhinged feeling never fully dissipates. There is a macro quest here, the focus firmly on reinstating the Saints as a force to be reckoned with and then taking the fight to the Syndicate, but it's often as if the individual missions are more like stand-alone units than part of a narrative continuum. Even so, as single-serving set pieces, most of these missions are violent, raunchy, decadent entertainment at its best. Side quests are less enthralling though, and soon become repetitive - a disappointment especially since the main story can be over in a matter of hours if you plough through it.

What made the sandbox world of GTA IV's Liberty City such a joy to experience was that it genuinely felt alive - an organic, functioning city just begging to absorb hours of your time with its many hidden delights. The game world of Saints Row: The Third just can't compete with that. As much as the storyline and side missions would like to trick you into thinking that this is a playground for you to indulge yourself in, the facade soon fades. Stick to the plot and you would hardly notice it, but spend some time exploring and you'll soon realise that there isn't nearly as much to this sandbox as you would imagine. There is property to buy, shops to browse for firepower, and plenty of places to go if you want new clothes or a haircut, but the city and much of what it offers comes across strangely sterile and impersonal.

To be enchanted by Saints Row: The Third, you have to dismiss you preconceptions of what a game like this should be like. On the surface, Volition's latest reeks of a tacky GTA rip off - to look past that means you have to give in to the garish, blood soaked, nipple capped charm of this intentionally offensive adventure. Give into it and there are good times to be had here - I laughed out loud more than once, even though I'm ashamed to admit just which despicable gags I was laughing at. The action is so over-the-top that the sometimes clumsy controls and derivative game mechanics hardly have time to register. When you're tearing down the main strip in a tank, death metal blaring on the sound system as you bring the pain to your enemies (and anyone else who gets in the way - Saints Row never shies away from a bit of collateral damage), nothing much else matters.

Volition can be commended for giving their game a very distinctive look and feel too - the engine driving this game world isn't the most powerful you'll see, but the city of Steelport is vast and elaborately detailed, if a little rough around the edges. The character creation suite is incredible though, and gives an early indication of how seriously this game takes itself - ie. not very. It's quite possible to put together a bright green transvestite with pigtails, clown feet, a zombie voice and a user customized, well, package. Watching a tall Asian man in high heels punch an old woman to death in the street, that's just pure Saints Row poetry right there.

Perhaps the overall impression would have been better had this game not had the "sandbox" genre tag hanging over its head. Maybe that's the problem. Saints Row: The Third is a vibrant, daring action game, but it's far too linear to stand on its sandbox credentials alone. There is a sense of freedom here, but it's limited - a wild eagle with clipped wings. What's more, for a game which takes such bold strides to be its own game, throwing every possible taboo to the wind to grab attention, there are still just too many elements here which are blatantly lifted from the competition. When on top form, Saints Row: The Third offers many moments of extravagance - vulgar, often distasteful but almost always captivating - but these moments are weighed down by some uninspired off-mission game design. The overall experience feels somehow jarring and disjointed, but outlandish characters, a ruthless, acerbic attack on good taste, and a good few hours of engrossing, tacky fun makes Saints Row: The Third worth playing for those who can stomach its unique charm.

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