Your Sinclair


Space Gun
By The Hit Squad
Spectrum 128K

 
Published in Your Sinclair #89

Space Gun

'Hello, I'm a concerned citizen, and I'd just like to tell you about this review. It's an eighteen certificate review, you see, as it's full of disturbingly violent descriptions of an excessively vicious game. You might actually want to go out and pick some flowers rather than expose yourself to...' Oh, get out of the way, you tedious small-minded individual. Space Gun is the unofficial (hem, hem) game of the film Aliens, with you tramping through a network of tunnels completely overrun with alien scum, blasting them and rescuing a group of colonists. The story's told in some nice between-level graphics - just a pity you have to load them in separately. Still, gives you plenty of time to get ready. (Sound of someone arming up with several clanky guns.) Picture this... you're walking down a corridor, and these things come down from the ceiling. I thought they were like those splotches on Patrick Moore's face 'til they shot at me. [Eh? - Ed] Amble a little further, and these doors open. Ooer, that's ominous. (Sound of bolt being drawn back on ludicrously big gun.)

All of a sudden, the screen fills with aliens. Lots of 'em. So you shoot them, but they don't die. Bits fly off instead. Arms and legs go spiralling away but they don't care. The aliens keep on coming, so you keep on blasting until they fall down dead. Hahahahaha! Die, non-human life-forms! Dakkadakkadakka! Pow! Powpowpow! Ha, got 'em. (Pant pant.) Then these face-huggery things jump onto your visor and you have to scorch them off. Fwoosh! Hahahahaha! Perish in the all-cleansing flame of justice, diseased interplanetary creatures! [I think he's getting a little too involved here - Ed]

And then things start getting silly. Aliens pour out of the walls. You shoot off their arms so they can't claw you. There are bits of bodies all over the shop. Colonists run around in a panic. Bullets fly everywhere. Your view is totally obscured. You're firing blind, switching between guns, grenades and flame-throwers. The end-of-level guardian pops up. You blaze away. Another level loads, and you start all over again. And it's a stomach-churningly large amount of fun. Who cares about colour clash, dodgy sound effects or an awkward multiloader when the game's this much (there's that word again) fun? I enjoyed every dishonest, unclean minute of it. Worth four pounds of any slightly unbalanced Vietnam veteran's money. (Twitch twitch, polish gun.)

Simon Forrester

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