![]() There are rough edges and some strange-looking textures, but once the battle is in full swing, you’ll be too busy to notice. It isn’t a game-killer by any means, but a little polish graphically would have gone a long ways. The place where Day of Infamy stumbles, however, is in the graphics department. The entire game forces cooperation and a well-oiled, complimentary team will wreck shop, while rouge units who are in it for themselves are quickly punished with a well-placed bullet to the face from cover. It’s fun to try and keep the enemy on their toes while simultaneously keeping an eye on your important support troops. As long as they get the OK, radiomen can call down reinforcements in the form of artillery strikes, or radio in ammunition and health drops, which are equally important. For example, the radiomen and officers are kind of a one-two punch, serving in tandem as support classes. There is a team restriction on how many players can be a certain class, which is fine, since you don’t really need an entire army of fire-bugs getting sniped to death as they attempt to burn the other army alive.īut while classes in Day of Infamy are familiar, the ways you can use them are what's really interesting, if not downright innovative. The classes themselves are more or less pretty straightforward: Officer, Flamethrower (lord, this one is fun), Rifleman, Radioman, Support, Engineer, Machine Gunner, Assault, and Sharpshooter. The way you can coordinate with your fellow soldiers and the myriad available classes will have you coming back for more, no matter how often you are shot, blown-up or fried to a crisp. Whether you are fighting for the Commonwealth, the good ol' U-S-of-A, or the Germans, this game is a blast. Day of Infamy is confusing, difficult, chaotic and at times, frustrating. There aren’t any arcade style numbers splashing across the screen and no pop-ups telling you that you are, in fact, the man. Which, more often than not, will get you killed. ![]() There’s no mini-map, ally-indicators, aiming reticule…in fact, if you want to know whether or not the enemy you just shot at is dead, you’ll have to hump over there and confirm your own kill. Luckily, much like Dark Souls, the things you start off hating, you end up loving.ĭay of Infamy holds no hands and refuses to coddle. ![]() Questions like: Where am I going? Where is my aiming reticule? and Is that my teammate? abound while you get used to the gameplay and dying over and over. Day of Infamy starts out feeling confusing and bare-bones. This is the game you wish you were playing as 11-year-olds camp spawn points and scream into the mic, claiming to know where your mother is and what she’s been doing (hint: you won’t like the answers) and asserting intimate knowledge of your personal sexual preferences. This game, to put it simply, is hardcore. Hell, it doesn’t even come with a mirror. It doesn’t come with saddlebags, chrome or sweet handlebar streamers. And by “bike” I mean a roaring, squirrely Harley Davidson. If the Call of Duty titles are the “training wheels” of war FPS, then Day of Infamy is the bike.
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