Heavy Rain (PlayStation 3) review "Most of the scenes make good sense and do a nice job of either building tension or adding depth to the characters, but there are instances where something will happen and it feels like the developers are just pandering to my testosterone. Example: characters Ethan Mars and the ever-so-sexy Madison Paige are sitting on the floor in a seedy hotel room. Ethan tells Madison that the only thing he cares about right now is finding his son. Madison responds by leaning in for a passionate kiss. The moment is supposed to be dramatic, I assume, but the timing is so ridiculously absurd that I can't help but think that it was included simply so the player has another chance to admire Madison's svelte physique as the distraught Ethan experiences carnal pleasure."

If you have a lot of experience covering games, a review for Heavy Rain can practically write itself. As long as you remember to mention the next-generation visuals, the unique control scheme and the interactive narrative, you're halfway to a finished draft. Follow those efforts up with examples of a few memorable moments from the game (there are plenty from which to choose) and liberally sprinkle adjectives throughout your descriptions. Include some artful run-on sentences to jazz things up a bit, if you like. No matter how you proceed, you're almost certain to produce something more eloquent than nearly any review that you've ever written. You'll wind up with a thoroughly readable critique that will whet your audience's appetite for the long-anticipated PlayStation 3 exclusive, one that will leave your readers confident that the game lives up to its every objective.

I'm fairly certain that if I reviewed Heavy Rain using the process described above, the people at both Sony (the game's publisher) and Quantic Dream (its developer) would forgive me. I wouldn't feel terribly guilty, either, because at worst I'd be guilty of providing a glowing review for a game that I quite enjoy. The only problem is that I'd be glossing over a few flaws that really do warrant serious consideration, no matter how minor they may seem on the surface. I'm not cool with that.

Before I start flinging dirt, though, I should let you know—in case somehow you've missed hearing about it—that Heavy Rain is the purest definition of a story-driven game. Its primary goal is to engage the player in the search for a serial killer who has abducted the son of one of four main characters and who plans to let him die at the hands of the elements. The hook isn't necessarily the plot itself, which often feels like a modernized cross between old radio serials and Agatha Christie novels. The hook is your emotional involvement. If you find yourself loving the game, it will be for the way the tale involves you and forces you to feel like you're a part of the effort to unravel the mystery of the origami killer. Anything that gets in the way of that purpose must be considered a flaw because it has a direct impact on your experience.

Unfortunately, Heavy Rain suffers from its share of flaws.

The first of those flaws is the game's control scheme. There are essentially two sides to it: exploration and interaction. To explore, you simply hold the 'R2' button and your character will hopefully walk in the direction that he or she is facing. You can turn with the left analog stick if there's something of interest to one of the sides. The general feel is that you're playing a classic Resident Evil title and your character is drunk. The awkward stumbles that result are unwelcome, but at least you don't have to be ready to constantly dive out of the way if zombies attack. When exploring, you typically have all the time you need to respond to any points of interest.

Some of those "points of interest" don't quite live up to that label, though, and some of them are simply a hassle. An obvious example on both counts surfaces in the game's tutorial prologue, where you'll possibly find yourself juggling balls. That activity requires you to press and hold certain buttons while tapping others in a timed fashion to keep the balls in the air. The inane task is typical of numerous others that you'll face over the course of your adventure. Opening a refrigerator door is never as simple as pressing the 'X' button, to provide another example. You'll need to press the right analog stick up, then rotate it around the outer ring of the stick's potential rotation. Whether you're unfastening a bra or helping a baby gulp down a heated bottle of milk, expect to perform an unlikely series of button presses, controller shakes and analog stick gymnastics. Sometimes it feels like your fingers are playing Twister.

I have a hard time deciding what to think of the controls overall. On the one hand, they do allow the player to feel more directly involved. Control requirements change often, so that you really have to pay attention when faced with tense moments. During a tense conversation with a potential suspect, my character wound up shooting him because I pressed the wrong button in error. That kind of blunder wouldn't have happened in any normal game because I would have felt thoroughly in control at all times, so there's something to be said for the removal of that safety net. It allows Heavy Rain to engage the player on a deep level that some games simply can't. I can even understand why the developers included the option to do things like take a leak or enjoy a hot shower, since those help the player to connect with characters and to see them as more vulnerable and human. I'm just not sure that I grasp the value in making me feel like a raging drunk when I'm simply trying to walk across a room to check the contents of a desk.

Controls aren't the only issue that occasionally crops up in Heavy Rain, either. Another occasional disappointment is the plot. Most of the scenes make good sense and do a nice job of either building tension or adding depth to the characters, but there are instances where something will happen and it feels like the developers are just pandering to my testosterone. Example: characters Ethan Mars and the ever-so-sexy Madison Paige are sitting on the floor in a seedy hotel room. Ethan tells Madison that the only thing he cares about right now is finding his son. Madison responds by leaning in for a passionate kiss. The moment is supposed to be dramatic, I assume, but the timing is so ridiculously absurd that I can't help but think that it was included simply so the player has another chance to admire Madison's svelte physique as the distraught Ethan experiences carnal pleasure.

Even simple choices have the potential to come back to bite you in the butt and oversights can be especially unfortunate. There may be options available that you don't even notice until it's too late and the story is progressing along an undesirable path as you miss out on intriguing content. Or you'll fail at something unexpected and at first it doesn't seem like a huge deal in the grand scheme of things but before long someone is taking a bullet to the chest. That's supposed to be one of the game's hooks—and it is in many ways—because your actions directly impact the story's development. You can even lose a protagonist or two and still reach the closing credits, a fact that has rightly been emphasized in the months leading up to the game's release. I just wish that some of the choices that I had to make didn't seem so arbitrary.

Presumably, gamers are supposed to forgive such shortcomings because they're a natural side effect of innovation. Heavy Rain's admirable efforts to give the player so much control over the story are supposed to justify the occasional fumble. I'm willing to go along with that theory to a certain extent, but let's not give the game more credit than it actually deserves. After all, players have already been enjoying games like this for years. The old graphic adventures from Infocom spring readily to mind, for instance. The difference here is that everything suddenly looks and sounds better and there is a larger cast of characters to love or hate.

The emotional involvement that those next-generation tweaks and the expanded cast bring to the overall experience ultimately serve as the reason that I personally enjoy Heavy Rain as much as I do. There's a lot of stuff here that has been done before, but I can't remember it ever feeling this good. A twelve-hour adventure along these lines once meant a lot of menu diving and hand-shaped cursors, but in this new form some of those cumbersome conventions have been removed. The result is an adventure that feels much more personal, one that's absolutely worth experiencing even though it doesn't break as much ground as it could have or deliver on its promise with complete consistency. If you can make your peace with those understandable shortcomings, try your hand at tracking down the origami killer. You'll be glad that you did.

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Staff review by Jason Venter (February 17, 2010) Jason Venter has been playing games for 30 years, since discovering the Apple IIe version of Mario Bros. in his elementary school days. Now he writes about them, here at HonestGamers and also at other sites that agree to pay him for his words.