Killer 7
dev. Capcom
Now available for Nintendo GameCube

Some 10-plus hours of gameplay into Killer 7 I still don't know how I feel about it. It's fucked on so many levels—intellectually, aesthetically, even spiritually—that it remains completely elusive to me. And that's before taking into account the purple-clad, Pulp Fiction–like gimp who dangles from a string and constantly warns, "Master! We're in a tight spot!" or the bizarre use of carrier pigeons to deliver backstory, or even the fact that one of the characters you play is a masked former wrestler with a predilection for grenade launchers.

The story, as far as I can tell (thanks to cribbing from the game's instruction booklet): The year is 2003 and a group of terrorists known as "Heaven Smiles" are aiming to take over. Having solved all worldwide conflicts some five years earlier, the nations of the earth, now dickless when it comes to military might, are at a loss as to what to do, so they turn to a man named Harman Smith for help. Harman's talent allows him to channel six distinct personalities (a bloodthirsty party girl, a master thief, and the aforementioned wrestler, among others), each of which has its own special ability. He is the ultimate killing machine—seven times over—and may be the only hope for the civilized world.

He has a tough job ahead of him: Heaven Smiles are a menacing bunch, banished souls that occasionally take the shape of shambling zombies, other times large rolling spheres, and sometimes they even sprout wings and take flight. What they all are, always, is laughing—a menacing cackle that signals their presence (they're invisible to the naked eye), and a handy signal that you need to draw your guns. The enemy won't fire back, however, for they're more interested in giving you a hug—a hug with a big boom attached, as every Heaven Smiles member is a walking/running/rolling/flying bomb, a religious cult member with a fuse to light.

Obviously, this all makes very little sense—which is part of the game's allure. Despite being a relatively new medium, video games are far too often quick to fall into complacency, with developers eyeballing the competition, copping, and repackaging to an absurd degree. Doom begat Quake begat Medal of Honor begat Halo begat Pariah, et cetera, et cetera, and although quality games routinely arrive, innovation has rapidly slowed.

Killer 7, though, is an amazing mindfuck of a game, taking the standard shooter applications (run here, shoot that, run there) and spinning them into insane directions. You don't have complete control over your character (you push the A button to run, the B button to turn around, and the triggers to move into first-person), but it doesn't matter; beautifully cell-shaded, assembled more as a piece of pop art than a true game, the fun in Killer 7 is found in watching it unfold before your eyes in all its crazy, pretentious glory. Between it and the truly amazing Resident Evil 4, Capcom is now, surprisingly, leading the creative charge. ■