Far Cry 2 isn’t especially delicate about establishing its literary intentions – before the five-minute mark is up, a notorious arms dealer called the Jackal has recited Nietzsche at you. You’re here in Africa to kill him, but things haven’t worked out as planned, and now you’re dying of malaria while being lectured about man’s ‘will to power’ in a peculiarly hurried monotone. Far Cry 2 may dispense with all the sci-fi silliness of the open-world shooter that preceded it, but it is not without an otherworldly quality.

Despite initial appearances, this is neither really the Africa of grim newsreel footage nor the Africa of the safari holiday, even if the game’s landscape is a magnificently observed collage of tour-guide highlights: wind-rippled savannah, thick, buzzing jungle, and red dirt escarpments. This is, reasonably explicitly, a 21st century version of the Africa imagined by Joseph Conrad, where western man journeys into psychological darkness – a place of unremitting conflict perpetuated by the mad, amoral designs of outsiders. Inevitably, in a world so bleached of its humanity, the Jackal’s deeds begin to take on a new light.

Business is business, however, and surviving your fever you return to the job – but finding the Jackal isn’t a matter of scouring the open world. Instead, you have to gain favour with the people to whom he supplies weapons in the hope of a tip-off. These two factions, the APR and the UFLL, are eager for a ‘deniable asset’ to perform a few favours for them, invariably of a bloody, explosive nature. However, since all these jobs are off the books, you’ll be fair game for anyone who spots you along the way. It’s not an altogether convincing explanation as to why the entire world wants to kill you the second you step out of the ceasefire zone, but it makes progress tense, if slow. Conflict is unavoidable: while this is an open world, the navigable terrain is often restricted to narrow tracks, funnelling the player between hostile guard posts. Rare is the mission in which you can reach your objective without homicidal diversion, and eventually this overwhelming hostility begins to wear – particularly when made to trot back and forth through the same guard post to find its occupants have respawned each time.



Fortunately, combat is thrilling – each weapon packing a solid, vicious blast; movement suggesting heft and momentum. These fights are always under pressure: the hand-me-down guns can jam, or fall apart entirely, and ammunition is scarce. You may even be struck by malarial dizziness while in the midst of battle. These variables, rather than being annoying, create a balanced sense of chaos that keeps the gunplay teetering on the edge of what you can control with forward planning. The AI is erratic and initially comatose, but as the game progresses, or with the difficulty cranked up, it becomes a formidable challenge. As soon as you fire a shot at a guard post, the enemies back away behind cover and attempt to encircle you, making your Molotov cocktails vital for denying them access to your flanks. But though the realistic spread of fire has its tactical applications, it’s at its best when out of control, pressuring you to improvise routes out of the inferno.