I see myself as a patient guy. Aside from my younger sisters, it takes an act of God to push me over the edge. Takedown in Modern Warfare 2 — commonly known as that damned favela level — manages to shove all sensibility I have down a garbage disposal until my temper clogs the drain. By the end of it all, a load of questions fill my head, but one floats to the top of the gunk: Who at Infinity Ward had the gall to design this monstrosity?
I must have gone to hell when I booted up Takedown, because there is no reason for this level to be this punishing and unforgiving during the first act. How am I supposed to navigate this labyrinth? It’s never clear where I need to go, and half the time I end up back at the start. It’s too hard to understand the layout under such turmoil. Why do I have to choose my own path? I was fine with the past games funneling me down a narrow corridor or fighting off endless waves of targets until help arrives. I never asked to be a rat in a scientist’s maze. Infinity Ward should have taken a page from Perfect Dark Zero, because this part is begging for painted arrows on the ground.
Enemies pop out of every nook and cranny imaginable like murderous whack-a-moles. They even have the audacity to blindfire behind doors — how is that fair? I admire Rojas’s cronies bravado as they run into my hail of bullets, but they should get the hint to give up after I fragged the thirtieth militant. It’s almost a full company versus my lowly squad of three, yet for every two I kill another five fill in their ranks. Each second I try to rest some bastard throws a grenade while another asshole is taking puck shots at me from the rooftops. For some reason the game thinks this spot is a perfect place to save a checkpoint. Man, what an unforgiving bitch.
At every twist and turn of these damn streets I run into a dozen militia with enough firepower to rival Brazil’s own military. Everyone in this shantytown has a gun except for those chickenshit civilians. I assume from living in such conditions they would be use to random gun fights, so why do they have to be a bunch of clueless lemmings running into my line of fire? Can’t they just pickup one of the hundreds of pistols lying around and give me a hand? Great, I shot one too many civies and now I have to reload the checkpoint. I could lower the difficulty, but that is beneath my standards — I am not letting this game beat me.
It’s not like Meat and Royce are helping me out all that much either. Isn’t this a team effort? I swore Soap said I was leading this chase, yet Meat keeps running off into the middle of the gauntlet as if he is eager to piss into the wind. What’s that Royce? Meat is down? I don’t know about you, buddy, but I’m pinned down and taking fire on all fronts. It would have been nice if we stuck together on this mission, but I guess it’s just now you and… Shit! Now he is gone too. So much for teamwork. Now I have to be the lone bullet magnet. I even hear dogs around the corner. Is there no end to this madness?
After climbing though these levels of hell, I have that bastard Rojas in my sights. Unfortunately, he is on the second floor of a shack and I can’t shoot him. Guess I better buckle down and continue this cat and mouse… Wait! Where the hell did Soap and Ghost come from?! I just when through all that shit to see a scripted moment of Soap tackling Rojas and that’s it? I feel like a total badass pushing through all that agony, and then Soap goes and steals my thunder. At least this poor excuse for a level is finally over. I don’t know who is to blame, but, since it’s a team effort, I’m calling all of you out. Congratulations Infinity Ward, you managed to make a level that has no redeeming qualities what so ever.