Vampire Rain


posted 7/26/2007 by Randy Kalista
other articles by Randy Kalista
One Page Platforms: 360
What begins as a search-and-rescue mission for a missing recon team turns into -- during the course of one endlessly rain-drenched evening in LA -- a face-off between four members of the spec ops arm of the AIB (American Information Bureau) and four of Los Angeles' Prime Walkers (the city's Chief Executive Vampires).
You fill the black assault boots of John Lloyd, sole survivor in his unit from a five years' past ambush by a coven of "Nightwalkers" (the game's revamped word for "vampire"), equipped with all the generic trappings of special operative's gear. Hank Harrison is team leader, Claire Kelly is sniper -- though, strangely, she's pretty much always stuck with rear guard -- and Duane Hanson is the congested-sounding communications specialist. But aside from their assigned duties, no one character steps forward with any perceivable personality, with the voice actors only putting forth an appropriate amount of effort to not stutter over the low-brow script.  The story's authenticity seemingly stems from a writer that did pay a lot of attention to depictions of pseudo-military organizations … in straight-to-DVD movies.
Vampire Rain (or simply "Rain" in the original Japanese version) is a stealth-action import from Artoon that's saturated in dubious mission/tutorial structures -- and is several inches above the flood zone when it comes to aggravating enemies. What it lacks in gothic grit it makes up for in dull, butter-knife gameplay, which says nothing of the production values and budget-minded design, per se, since there's no points directly docked just for working with a thin wallet.  Vampire Rain is insufferable only for prolonging screen time with antiquated schemes like long, protracted death scenes (get used to 'em), cliché-driven movement puzzles involving steam pipes and nonsensically placed weapon stashes, and for the 90-degree angles aligning the square aesthetic of every building, crate, street, and parallel-parked car. Strangely, only the rain contributes to the atmosphere, even as the game handholds your way through the insultingly redundant instructions in the beginning chapters. Sample:
[Observing from an overhead 2D cam] Harrison says, "This is where we are." [Scroll to comms facility.] "That's the comms facility." [Pause as we go back to the 3D map.] "Now look through your scope at the comms facility." [I look through the scope.] "See that? That's the comms facility."
I get it already. What I don't get is the utter lack of unlockable Xbox LIVE achievements (save body count rewards for online multiplayer) which is a bullish sign of Japan's Xbox-shunning breeding. Instead, each level is given a badge upon completion, gauged on expected factors such as weapon accuracy, damage taken, etc., all of which adds up to the bare minimum requirements of the stealth-action genre. Miniature tutorials open up between chapters and provide sometimes embarrassingly simple objectives that should've been incorporated directly into gameplay. And with Vampire Rain's hog-tied pacing, opening fire on an alleyway full of crates as one of the mid-chapter trials is some rare destructive fun. The storyline missions are in keeping with the stealth tradition, holstering your firearms 98 percent of the time, and never trouncing into Big Explosive Territory unless it's the Nightwalkers themselves pounding down a door or two. In fact, for the first several hours of gameplay, the only time you get to fire at anything is to shoot at padlocks, and to frighten away birds. Seriously.
The Nightwalkers themselves are the Terminator project of a developer wanting to reinvest an element of danger into the public perceptions of a softening vampire race. Nightwalkers flash instantly between normal-enough homo sapien mode, to pigeon-toed zombie mall walkers, to 28 Days Later fast-forwarding death machines. If a Nightwalker acquires a visual lock on you, you're done. You cannot run, you cannot hide, and your fully-automatic weaponry will not slow them down. As soon as you hear the frightening soundtrack crescendo into a nail-biting sonata, you are actually hearing for whom the bell tolls. And it tolls for thee entirely too many times to preserve your sanity. Even after you digest the rules for the Vampire Rain universe, dying is still the only answer to the ceaseless trial-and-error required to get through each mission the singular, unwavering right way. 
Despite the 3D illusion of a sizeable city to run through, your movements are choke-chained to stay within each mission segment's invisible borders ("Stick with the mission, please!" Hanson keeps yelling through your earpiece). So you're left with a series of ride-on-rails objectives, imploring you to keep your hands in the vehicle at all times or die. End of story. In which you're treated to an unskippable Game Over screen filled with MS Paint blood splatters, and overwrought sound effects that seem less like a Nightwalker chewing on your neck, and more like the reality of two guys in a sound booth tearing apart a cantaloupe next to a microphone.
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