(Originally published to Glitchwave on 1/15/2025)
[Image from glitchwave.com]
God of War
Developer: Santa Monica Studio
Publisher: SCE
Genre(s): Hack and Slash, Action-Adventure
Platforms: PS2
Release Date: March 22, 2005
Even though I am a fresh-faced God of War noob, I’m still readily familiar with the tumultuous tale of Kratos, the series’ protagonist who has practically replaced Crash Bandicoot as Sony’s de facto mascot due to the prominence of the franchise. To apply “angry” as a character trait fitting Kratos would be the stark understatement of the century. This pale, mesomorphic Spartan warrior is the epitome of anger, a charging bull if it was provoked by the matador twisting its testicles. Kratos’ trademark scowl is uniformly frozen on his face as an expression of his everlasting rage, a visage so intense and menacing that it will trigger spontaneous incontinence in anyone who makes eye contact with the man. The developers have stated that a primary inspiration for Kratos is Edward Norton’s character from American History X, a neo-nazi with a checkered criminal past. While I have discrepancies regarding the substance of this glorified after-school special, one effective aspect of Edward Norton’s performance in particular is that his intensity was palpable. Any violent act he committed in the name of his inflammatory beliefs was conducted with a terrifying blind fury, as if the zeal was clouding his judgment like a thick, billowing sandstorm. Kratos exudes the same unbounded injurious energy as Edward Norton’s hate-monger, which is an exciting prospect for any gamer eager to pilot a conductor for incredible destructive potential. However, the target of Kratos’ wrath is (thankfully) not innocent minorities. Kratos has a bone to pick with the titular character Ares, the “God of War” from Greek mythology. In the heat of a ferocious battle, Kratos calls upon the divine entity in a cry of desperation when he’s pinned down by a barbarian enemy. In exchange for saving his bacon, Kratos is in Ares’ servitude like a Faustian bargain. This relationship entails Kratos smiting every enemy of Ares, which elevates Kratos from a bloodthirsty warlord to the butcher of Athens. Amid his hazy killing spree, Kratos inadvertently slaughters his wife and child, a test devised by Ares to see if Kratos could forgo all of his humanhood and truly become his prime murder machine. However, this tragic event sparks a defiance in Kratos, plotting a revenge plan that involves accomplishing the impossible: killing a God. While Kratos’ history suggests that he’s an unconscionable monster that should be expelled from humanity, his self-inflicted plight being Ares’ useful idiot and the vengeance arc he’s pursuing throughout the game to redeem himself makes him surprisingly sympathetic. Actually, maybe sympathetic isn’t the correct word. Kratos’ foibles give the bald brute enough character and purpose that the player isn’t disturbed by the carnage they’re constantly creating using him as a vessel. His backstory also gives him enough depth and complexity as a protagonist for someone who would have easily been associated with a single, one-dimensional personality trait, and an unflattering one at that.
On Kratos’ journey to achieve the seemingly unfeasible, the player is treated to what is arguably the game’s most impressive attribute: its grand spectacle. In a matter of perspective, God of War is an example of an early trailblazer for the cinematic titles that congested the medium during the subsequent generation. In stating this, God of War’s direction doesn’t verge down the narrow path of letting the attributes of film dilute the interactiveness of the gameplay, a practice that plagued the cinematically-inclined titles that followed. Instead, God of War’s cinematic spectacle is akin to something like Metal Gear Solid, pronouncing elements of cinematography in the 3D graphics to elevate the scope of the presentation. To highlight the game’s cinematic intentions, the camera controls are completely automatic to instill the feeling that someone is behind the scenes manipulating everything to fit their vision like a film director. The inability to shift the perspective of the camera may naturally prove to be an inconvenience in certain moments, but the developer’s omniscient angling of the action ensures that the sense of awe the surroundings evoke never wavers. In addition, it helps that the settings are inherently immaculate. God of War’s world is the ancient domain of the Gods, a realm too divine for the unsophisticated eyes of mere mortals. Because the setting is the stuff of folklore legend, God of War’s environments are fantastically elegant and imposing–an assemblage of places that supersede the spectacle of any of the seven wonders in reality. For one, I couldn’t help myself but to ooh and aah at the massive basin of water located in the center of Pandora’s rotating temple, an arcane curiosity that made me yearn to unlock the secrets of the statue’s chamber within it. While we’re on the subject of liquid bodies, any moment where Kratos is swimming underwater is so magnificently dazzling that “Aquarium” from the Carnival of Animals suite should accompany it. Segwaying on the subject of statues, the frame of Kratos walking across a colossal sword as a makeshift bridge leading to a monument of Athena displays a sublime backdrop of Athens in a nighttime scene illuminated by shimmering moonlight. It’s an utterly captivating sight. The director’s camera chose to depict the underworld from a top-view perspective, limiting the scope of the environment Still, this restricted angle hones in on the crimson red current of the damned flowing viciously underneath the skeletal platforms, forcing the player to stare into the abyss of the raging river which will cause them consternation. It’s a situation where it would be advised not to look down, but the game gives the player no choice but to gaze frightfully at its soul-swallowing glory. It may not be presented with HD refinement like all of the cinematically striking games that followed, but the splendorous set pieces through the directed lens we witness them through will still leave the player’s mouth agape at their magnitude.
While the presentation is designed to impress the player, the opulent, ancient iconography never distracts from the gameplay. This maintaining of one’s focus is mainly due to the fact that the action is equally as visually lavish in its own right. God of War fits starkly in the hack n’ slash variant of video game, a sub-genre of the beat 'em up genre that became wildly popular during the sixth-generation of gaming thanks to Capcom’s Devil May Cry series. Unlike that franchise in which the action’s appeal stems from the proficient swagger Dante uses to dispose of his enemies, God of War highlights the sheer brutality of Kratos’ kills. If the coitus mini-game after the Hydra prologue doesn’t provide enough reason for every concerned parent to bar God of War from their households, then the rampant, everflowing gore that spills from the severed ligaments of all that lives and breathes in Kratos’ general direction certainly will. Using the twin blades Kratos has at his disposal, his trademark weapon that symbolizes his spiritual enslavement to Ares, Kratos slices and dices the eclectic bestiary of mythical Greek monsters with a great vengeance. It may just be his demeanor, but every execution Kratos delivers feels incredibly personal–as if everything under the ancient Greek pantheon played a part in slaying his wife and child by association. Every swing of the twin blades carries a hefty weight to it like waving those battle ropes one finds at the gym. The slight hesitation of the combat sometimes results in Kratos getting nicked by an enemy because he can’t block or parry quickly while he’s in the combo zone. Still, I think the lack of instant gratification compels the player not to absentmindedly hack away and consider switching to defensive tactics. Because God of War’s offense isn’t quite as fluid or nuanced as fellow hack and slash stalwart Devil May Cry, the combat compensates with a few tricks the player can pull from their sleeves given the circumstances. At arbitrarily-placed progression points throughout Kratos’ journey, Ares’ divine brethren atop Mount Olympus will impart some of their power to Kratos in his aid to vanquish their rogue sibling. Each of these supplementary maneuvers coincides with the magic meter and serves to diversify the otherwise meat and potatoes combat. “Poseidon’s Rage” is a thunderous lightning blast that electrocutes all enemies in a close radius, and it would be my go-to ability if it didn’t deplete the magic meter in thirds per use. Kratos keeps the head of the first Medusa enemy he decapitates and uses the piercing glow of her eyes to idiosyncratically cement enemies into stone, a useful tactic for eliminating the strapping minotaurs. Zeus’s lighting is the one projectile that shocks enemies from a distance, and Hades will allow Kratos to weaponize the souls of the underworld and bombard enemies like a plague of locusts. The goddess Artemis will also supply Kratos with a hulking blade as an alternative for the chain blades, which I found myself favoring due to its quicker efficiency in dispatching enemies. God of War may not foster the skill ceiling that Devil May Cry might, but the combat variety on display keeps the constant clanging of chain blades from becoming dry and stale.
The player will need all of the tools in Kratos’ arsenal for any given situation because the throngs of enemies attacking him all at once can be quite overwhelming. Not only will the stacked number of enemies keep the player vigilant on the battlegrounds, but a smattering of Greek beasts of differing masses all targeting Kratos simultaneously is liable to make the player lose their focus in a panicked frenzy. However, what keeps the player from anxiously anticipating death is the lovely accommodations the developers provide. Seemingly after every bout of ultraviolence, there will be a chest located shortly beyond the vicinity of the arena that houses enough health or magic to fully replenish either meter. Naturally, this constant aid will keep Kratos’ vigor afloat and prevent the game from ever verging into becoming an arduous endurance test.
Even with the bountiful surplus of aid strewn about, the developers will still suggest that the player regress to an “easy mode” if they perish one too many times on one checkpoint, and conceding to this makes the combat as elementary as single-digit arithmetic. And to think I was ready to commend the developers for showcasing signs of self-awareness for providing enough aid after every battle. I never succumbed to a particular combat barrage numerous times, but I cannot say the same for the game’s myriad of platforming challenges. Up until now, I’ve been comparing Kratos to Dante for their hack and slash connections. Unexpectedly, Kratos shares a kinship with Nintendo’s mustachioed mascot, or at least I can humorously draw unlikely comparisons between them due to the influx of sections across God of War that involve precision jumping. Needless to say that in a game that prioritizes combat action over acrobatics, any instance of platforming is incredibly awkward. Kratos can even double jump to course correct himself if needed, but the additional aerial hop failed in preventing Kratos from falling to his doom after mismanaging hopping onto a platform too many times to count. That’s a general indictment of the game’s stilted platforming mechanics, but they become especially infuriating whenever the game decides to dedicate entire sections that emphasize them. “Path of Hades” is a particularly maligned area of this game because of any slab of solid ground in this depiction of Greek purgatory, are a series of platforms with sizeable chasms between them or spinning flesh beams where one slight contact with any of the blades attached will send Kratos to his eternal resting place. The less said about a vertical climb up a rotating cylinder that also has blades attached in this level the better, for I can’t do justice in discussing it without using caps lock to express the anguish it caused me. If you thought any platforming that involves jumping was finicky in God of War, wait until Kratos comes across any balance beam. The fact that the developers expected this musclebound beefcake of a man to perch himself on skinny scaffoldings and daintily navigate himself across them like a petite, teenage gymnast is almost comical. I abhor any balance beam segment, but a particular one that incorporates jumping over spinning saw blades also warrants a tirade composed entirely in the shift key. To put it into perspective, Chuck Liddel is a fantastic fighter whose wrath, like Kratos, I’d never provoke even in my wildest dreams. Still, despite his finesse, it doesn’t automatically translate to other factions of athletic achievement. Like Kratos, he simply isn’t built for certain physical tasks. Failing to consider this contradiction with these platforming sections is the most absurd aspect of God of War.
This isn’t to say that God of War would be laudatory across the board if Kratos never had to leap like Michael Jordan. One aspect of the hack and slash combat that I find rather unsavory is the quick time events. With more comparisons to Resident Evil 4, God of War was another 2005 trendsetter for these button-specific flashes that seemingly every game of the next generation shamelessly utilized to compress and expedite gameplay into simply smashing a single trigger. While I’m in the camp who believes that quicktime events are dull and cheap, this sentiment does not apply to Resident Evil 4’s usage of them. Any instance of a quicktime event in Capcom’s magnum opus felt kinetically appropriate, like mashing a button to simulate the urgency of sprinting away from danger. Cutscenes that integrated them to keep the players on their toes added to the campy charm like attending a William Castle film event. No, every game of the next generation ostensibly took notes from God of War’s usage of this cutting-edge mechanic, for God of War’s quick time events commit all the sins they’re associated with.
Sure, repeatedly pounding the circle button to pierce a struggling minotaur through his gullet as an execution move is appropriate, but so many other responses to their transitory flashes on screen will see Kratos automatically engaging in feats of combat that ideally should’ve involved more player agency. Not to mention, they tend to require sharpshooter levels of reaction time to execute, lest the player be penalized with damage. The player will feel jilted by the unfairness of their strict requirements when attempting to execute a gorgon or troll enemy, but at least this flashy method of murder is optional. However, when it comes to the bosses, the player must submit to the mercy of the fleeting button matchings. Getting bucked off of Pandora’s Guardian like a startled horse on account of apparently performing the incorrect analog stick action was certainly vexing. Still, the fight against The Hydra in the game’s prologue truly exposed the shallow integration of these mechanics. The button needed to activate the quick time sequence always appears overhead after Kratos deals the adequate amount of damage to them that they’re on the threshold of dying. Whacking at the Hydra enough will cause the quick time button to appear, but every time he follows it up with the sequence, it will cause Kratos to pull the three-headed beast closer to the mast of the ship to gruesomely impale The Hydra’s eyeball onto it. Why did this boss feature a health bar if depleting it was irrelevant? Couldn’t the quick time event have become active after there was only a sliver of health left as a finishing blow? This boss left a disillusioning precedent that every action involving a quick time event was completely automated and out of the player’s control, which is the icky feeling of idleness felt whenever playing any of the games that ran this mechanic into the ground.
Knowing full well of God of War’s penchant for these quick time events and their fussy nature, I fretted immensely at the thought that the final boss against Ares would be nothing but an endless series of button matching like a rhythm game. To my relief, only a single instance of a quick time event was integrated into his encounter. However, Ares offered an unexpected slew of challenges that still aggravated me nonetheless. His first phase in this three-act epic of a duel where Kratos absorbs the forbidden power of Pandora’s box is a kaiju fight over the Aegean Sea, and the litany of Ares’ firepower will greatly test the player’s dodging acuity they’ve likely honed throughout the game. This initial confrontation of Ares could’ve served as a satisfying finale to Kratos’ quest, but the developers insisted on augmenting the final fight with two additional phases that will bring the player’s blood to a boil. Since Ares can’t easily defeat Kratos physically, the rotten God attempts to break him mentally by fabricating a recreation of the event when he unknowingly killed his wife and child. Kratos must fend off an army of malicious clones who will attack his wife and child in droves. Not only did this phase seem irrelevant to Ares, but the swarms of Kratos clones all spawning approximately a meter away from their target makes this horde sequence particularly agonizing. When the fight returns to the blazing deity, the gimmick of the last phase is equally as frustrating. Giant Kratos will take the sword bridge connected to the statue of Athena for an uncomplicated sword fight with Ares to the end. That is, it’s only uncomplicated on Kratos' part on account of Ares draining all of his magic. The opponent feels no shame in unleashing a heat-seeking scattering of fireballs to tip the scale of this fight in his favor, which I’m fairly certain is both undodgeable and unblockable. With its stipulations, success in beating the final phase ultimately boils down to luckily smiting him before he has a chance to inflict any unavoidable punishment onto the player, which is easier said than done. After this elongated final boss fight that I would’ve promptly abandoned if there weren’t checkpoints in between the phases, at least the narrative resolution that follows the game’s falling action is enjoyable. The Olympians cannot erase Kratos’ past like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but they can compensate for his insurmountable achievement of killing an immortal being by offering him his job title as the Greek God of War. This result taps into the ironic element of Greek tragedies that is often under-appreciated, with Kratos becoming what he sought to destroy and implanting himself in a position that requires him to encourage his destructive nature that led him to desperation.
I don’t think the original God of War’s fall from grace in the public eye can be simply attributed to the passing of time and the hindsight that comes with progress. I have discovered through finally seizing the opportunity to play it that this former “masterpiece” exhibits so many shoddy and ill-conceived aspects in it that the word in quotes should’ve never crossed the lips of any elated gamer at the time. The gaming collective was too distracted by the marvelous presentational elements the game displayed to critique its flaws rationally, and the surface-level aspects of the game that usually age like milk for most games are still as impressive as they once were. With several God of War successors to look back on and compare the first game to, the hamfisted platforming and quick time events that cause the player to become as angry as the game’s protagonist are jarringly conspicuous, and these rough gameplay mechanics should’ve never been overlooked. It’s depressing that this once-acclaimed game has been reduced to a beta test for the formula of great esteem that would follow, but God of War in its primordial stage is still a beguiling game for its then-unparalleled spectacle.
