DmC: Devil May Cry Review

I still remember the first time I ever played the original 2001 Devil May Cry. I mean, it was all just so cool. The style, the brutality, the never-ending combos, the white hair. But as years passed, that white sheen dulled to a time-worn gray, and the series' wildly stylish hacking and slashing fell into a deep, dark rut. Maybe it was because I got older. Maybe Capcom just ran out of ways to top its own over-the-top-ness. (Most likely some combination of the two.) The bottom line? Devil May Cry needed to change. And now, with the switch to developer Ninja Theory, it has -- mostly for the better.



So, right then: that hair. Dante looks different now, but contrary to popular belief, it's not the end of any world -- ours, Devil May Cry's, or otherwise. Don't get me wrong: this isn't the Devil May Cry you used to know. Ninja Theory's got Dante dancing on its marionette strings now, but -- once DmC manages to settle into a comfortable rhythm -- the balance of old and new hits almost all the right notes.

New Kid on the Chopping Block

That said, this one is a sloooooow starter, and the first couple hours give the impression that Ninja Theory's clumsily trying to follow in Capcom's uniquely ridiculous footsteps. Nudity? Hah! Pizza? That's our Dante! Suggestive camera angles and in-your-face sex jokes? Hoo boy, what won't they say? But then -- after a patch of equally agonizing (but for different reasons) taking-itself-seriously exposition -- the plot really comes into its own. It's here that the acting and motion capture chops (as previously demonstrated in console-only sleeper hits Heavenly Sword and Enslaved) really shine, bringing expressive nuance to otherwise-straightforward characters and story beats.


Rocky early goings aside, DmC's actually an extremely clever game. The dialog's smart and punchy, and Dante's extended puns had me emitting everything from restrained chuckles to full-on seismic guffaws. World design, however, is what really made me say (out loud, to no one in particular; I may need help), "Wow, some truly intelligent, creative people made this game." From an underground, upside-down industrial hell city to a neon-lit, never-ending supernatural dubstep dance club, each level bristles with imagination. Information's conveyed similarly well, with one area explaining Dante's backstory via elaborate graffiti while another continually adds voice-overs from a group planning session, complete with a chalkboard-based UI overlay. The story itself occasionally wades worrisomely far into melodrama territory, but nearly every other aspect of DmC exudes playful personality. Also, we're talking about a world that's been lobotomized by over-consumption of evil soda here, so it's difficult for the game to take itself too seriously.

Tears of Joy

Devil May Cry's been a combo-based console action-er since day one, but that doesn't mean the series is lacking in depth. Quite the contrary: Capcom's in-house-developed entries (well, aside from the execrable Devil May Cry 2) gained a reputation for demanding rigorous split-second precision and constant combo variety. For the most part, DmC: Devil May Cry continues that tradition, though with some slightly questionable changes. First, though, the good news: the series' trademark "style" system makes the leap fully intact, requiring you to switch between different weapons and avoid taking damage to keep your score-boosting rank from plummeting down to the darkest depths of grade school letterdom. The result is a combo system that might seem simple and button-mashy at first, but actually places the emphasis on timing, mobility, and situational awareness over complicated button strings that leave hands looking like brutally savaged pretzels.


Somewhat surprisingly, Ninja Theory's own additions to Devil May Cry's basic combat rhythm are DmC's biggest success. In short, weapons come in two main flavors: angel and devil. Angel weapons tend to be quick and rangy while devils deal more in heavy, slow-to-wind-up power shots. The twist, however, is that certain enemies only take damage from one type of weapon -- but not both. The scythe's ethereally hued hewing, for instance, might stop an ice demon in its frigid footsteps or burst an annoying angel thing's magic bubble, but anything with a shield will treat its slices like gentle kisses from kitten eyelashes. The fiery Eyrx fists or the hulking Arbiter axe, however, are all too happy to play rampaging bull to their suddenly brittle China shops.

Devilish Details

Ninja Theory truly triumphs, then, when it finds inventive ways to pair different enemy types, forcing mid-combo weapon switches (achieved by simply holding down one of two triggers or keys while attacking normally) and smart maneuvering. Meanwhile, chains that both yank enemies to you and pull you to wherever an enemy might be recall Nero's Devil Bringer arm from Devil May Cry 4 and lend a wonderful sense of control to the proceedings. No matter where I was, I felt like I could attack whatever happened to be the biggest thorn in my side in a heartbeat. Harpies tickling my intestines from on high? Not a problem when I can launch myself up to their level and, well, I guess the best way to describe it is fly with my sword. Alternatively, separating a particularly pesky baddie from the rest of the pack is as simple as flitting over to the other side of the battlefield and then drag them, kicking and screaming, with me.


It's aggravating that DmC's default difficulties don't really leverage these excellent systems as well as they could. It was only once I finished my first playthrough and unlocked Dante Must Die mode that things began to get interesting, with enemy placement and pairings, especially, taking a turn for the devious. I began to think I was playing in Soviet Russia. Indeed: the devils were making me cry. Sadly, I was able to pretty much cruise control my way through lower difficulties, with few-and-far-between deaths mainly resulting from clumsy platforming, boss fights, or a general lack of attentiveness on my part.

Brawling, Falling

The former two things, obviously, round out the remainder of DmC's package, and both have their own sticking points. Platforming, somewhat surprisingly, plays an especially large role all throughout, with high-flying sections making highly inventive use of DmC's brilliantly over-the-top world design. Rushing to save allies' careening car from certain doom as an entire city is obliterated by a pulse of demonic energy, for instance, is a total trip. Once again, the angel/devil dichotomy comes into play as well, giving Dante the ability to either angel whip between certain points – more like the son of Spider-Man than Sparda (Spardaman?) – or leverage devil powers to pull platforms in his general direction. It's a fairly simple and straightforward setup, but swinging feels nice – even if it's really only a matter of pressing one button at well-timed intervals.


That said, platforming never matches the intoxicating sense of control present in combat. Normal jumps feel too twitchy and imprecise, resulting in frustrating accidental falls and moments where the game doesn't quite register swinging inputs in time. Admittedly, checkpoints are generous enough that random death is rarely a deal-breaker, but it does serve to drive a quivering wedge right into the center of DmC's otherwise sublime sense of forward motion. There's this excellent flow to every other aspect of the game, so it's unfortunate when an uncontrollable death brings it to a halt.

Boss fights, meanwhile, don't frustrate nearly so much as they disappoint. DmC's gallery of titanic skin sacks, profanity-screaming insectoids, and evil fetuses that birth and un-birth their own mothers provide brilliantly absurd sights and sounds, but there's really not much to them. They hit hard, sure, but each has some incredibly obvious giant glowing weak point that makes bringing their colossal forms down a snap. The only real exceptions are an absolutely incredible Tron-esque face-off against the gigantic digitized head of a Fox News parody (yes, you read that correctly) and the final battle. The rest are amusing, but sadly lack the smart combat depth displayed in DmC's normal encounters.

Making Daddy Proud

It also bears mentioning that DmC's an impressively strong PC port, with pretty much every option you could want present and accounted for. Among other things, we get a buttery-smooth 60fps framerate (compared to consoles' 30), and I didn't encounter a single stability issue. Also, key bindings are fully remappable, although I really, really, really recommend playing this one with an Xbox pad or something along those lines. Beyond that, HD textures and V-Sync are part of the package, as are anti-aliasing, shadows, and other oft-ignored basics.


So yes, Dante's back and in many ways better than ever. Is the combat up to par with, say, Devil May Cry 3? Not quite. And no, the series will probably never top Devil May Cry 4's Dante vs Nero opening in terms of sheer testosterone-fueled zaniness. But Ninja Theory's managed to meld its own wildly inventive sensibilities with an obvious reverence for Devil May Cry's legacy, and the result is a very special experience. It might start slow, peter out toward the end, and pull a few too many punches on lower difficulties, but there's so much to love here that it's difficult to linger on those low points. Dante's cool again, and my inner middle-schooler is making super-lame finger pistols and jumping for joy.