This year’s model puts you in a fake Cuba that’s also a fake Haiti, complete with a fake dictator played by a fake Latino. Shoot, hunt, run through the jungle, all while trying to undermine a charismatic supervillain crafted out of cliches: it’s as formulaic as a Big Mac. What began as a tech showcase with a last-second, half-baked sci-fi story has become a biennial exercise in repetition, an endless cycle of the same chaos in a different jungle, the same appropriation of a different culture, the same game with just enough changes to give credulous preview writers something to fill their column inches with. And even for a business as inherently cynical as entertainment, and as inherently cynical as big budget games, Far Cry is exceptionally cynical.
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