Right. If that mofo Danny Trejo ever dares show his face around Casa
del Gamesblip he’s in for a poundi... what? That Machete
dude? Umm, heh, shit. Hope we weren’t out of line with that mofo business,
sir... Can we offer you a beer? How about a case? Erm, a
What’s one of Robert Rodriguez’s fave actors got to do with Move
game The Fight? We reckon he’s doing a Michael Caine, saying
“fuck art, I need to pay for new guttering”. He’s your trainer in
this street fighting affair and, as our opening hopefully attests,
he has a way of getting completely in your face and under your skin.
Is he helpful? Well, as helpful as a trainer can be when what he’s
training you for is kinda busted.
Yeah, yada-yada – and we could extend it with talk of the hip-hop
soundtrack and the decidedly gritty look of The Fight - but
it’s yada-yada with justification. There’s just not much to say
about the gameplay other than at its core it pretty much fails. We
get that you have to put a lot into it – no fairy taps or lolling on
the couch waving controllers about, you need to punch, block, duck
and sweat like you’re really getting slapped around. However, the
detection of moves is often so out of whack with what you think
you’re doing that it’s regularly like watching two others fight
whilst you’re just being a really bloody energetic bystander. Or you
run out of in-game stamina and, defenceless, just get walloped. Yay. A two player
split-screen option just doubles the ‘huh?’ effect.
The Fight is akin to a punch-drunk, past-it pugilist. The spirit’s
willing, but the flesh is weak.