Damn! Fighters Uncaged couldn’t be blokier if it screeched up
sideways in a V8 ute, chucked an empty VB stubby at us, let a fart
rip, scratched its nads and stuck its face in a titty mag. There’s
enough testosterone here to fuel a rocket to Uranus – should rockets
be powered by testosterone, natch.
In case you hadn’t guessed, this is completely chick-free. Not even
an option. Our assumption is we’re meant to fuck off and bake cakes
or summat. Not happy.
Regardless, after braving an hour in peak-hour Melbourne traffic, we
were ready to vent some A-GRESS-I-ON! Having torn the shrinkwrap a
new one we were pumped for a bigger challenge. Through screams of
“bring it on!” and other such inanities we hopped straight into the
– oh get fucked, practice mode?!
Now, we’re no experts in the (apparent) art of pugilism, but
Fighters Uncaged teaches fighting dirty. Head butts and knees to
the crotchal region didn’t make Muhammad Ali ‘the greatest’, so
obviously this is more anything-goes – street fighting (cue the
Full of blokes who look like extras from The Sopranos, this
is essentially Fight Club, but without the awesome Pixies
song to go out on. You exact various punches, kicks and other moves
against an increasingly tough array of opponents, whom you must also
evade when they hit back. Practicing moves is fine, but in the heat
of fighting epic flail’s the go – at least if you fight like a girl,
which we can’t help. We’re not sure the Kinect always picks up
intended moves, either. Maybe boobs confuse it?
Whilst offering a great workout regardless of whatever progress you
do or don’t make, Fighters Uncaged is KO backwards, but
doesn’t deliver that killer blow. Hey, boxing analogies! FUCK YEAH!