Bully
Jimmy Hopkins might hate it here, but we think you'll warm up to Bullworth Academy quiiiite nicely.
Published: December 7, 2006
The schoolyard experience is one those things that transcends generations, in that everyone can relate to it. No matter if it was your grandparents or you yourself, there's an everlasting recognition of just how those tumultuous years were spent. Were you the physically disadvantaged yet vengeful nerd who took refuge in the library? Or perhaps the brawny meathead who got his kicks threatening the defenseless? It's a wholly mutual experience. That is to say, regardless of where your clique of choice lay, you knew damn well who was being picked on, who was considered untouchable and who had it coming to them (with the hope that someone was willing enough to dole the proper retribution).
Bully, while hardly the hallway terror it was once pinned as (hey, it sits quite soundly with a "Teen" rating), is smugly satisfying in that you are that kid who's willing to stand up and do something about it. Jimmy Hopkins isn't the most likeable cat in the world - at 15, he's already seen as many public school expulsions as his mother's seen remarriages - but heck if he's not determined to clean up the cesspool of a private school that is Bullworth Academy.
But becoming king of the campus isn't achieved overnight. From first setting foot on campus, it's immediately apparent that Jimmy won't be getting a warm "new kid" welcome. Measly bullies will chastise and shove you around as you pass by. School girls will giggle and laugh it off condescendingly as you stumble over pick-up lines. It becomes evidently clear that earning some respect around the school is going to take a bit of work. The one kid who actually makes an effort to befriend you - a delusional, ADD patient named Gary who takes his frustrations out on his malleable pal Pete - provides a sound foundation for scoping out what you're up against, but as you'll soon come to find, taking over campus is a one-man job.
The core of the game lies in tried-and-true mission-based gameplay, but with a fitting twist given its scholastic setting. You're in school, therefore, you've got to go to classes. For a good deal of your time spent on-campus, (Bully, like any good free-roaming game, expands into neighboring towns as you progress) you'll have to juggle a morning and afternoon class into your daily regiment. And while you might be groaning about how bogus classes sound, in reality, attending them is well worth its weight in gold. In addition to yielding some handy rewards (passing Art improves your game with the ladies, and in turn, boosts your health, while each good grade in Shop gets you a new and improved BMX bike). The classes themselves play out as mini-games - English is a surprisingly challenging word scramble, Chemistry is straight up button-timing, Photography is fun-filled snapshot-taking romp through town - and with only five passed classes needed to finish the course, they'll go through quickly enough that it'll never stale over. Heck if they don't go a little too quickly.
But there's oh so much more to attend to outside of the classroom, and lots to be done at Bullworth Academy and beyond. Teachers needs favors, cliques need ass-whoppins, girlfriends need swooning, and Jimmy seems to be just the guy to do it all. The chapter-based story more or less has you standing up to one student faction at a time, but that's where Jimmy's intentions become tough to distinguish. Beating people up apparently solves everything in this world, as knocking just a few waves of goons silly will earn you their hideout without a single attempt of redemption. Moreover, while Jimmy insists he's looking out for the little guy, his shameless rants of "I'm the boss!" and "You work for me now!" after taking out a clique in a final showdown seems all too self-absorbed and a far cry from his altruistic proposals. Chalk it up to adolescent capriciousness, we reckon.
But the direct results of your fisticuffs (think The Warriors, but toned down to the kind of roughhousing you'd expect on the schoolyard), and really your actions in general, is really something to be admired. Talk smack to the preppies after conquering their clique and, oh, what's this? They don't want any trouble? Precisely. And little by little, you'll earn that much-desired respect on campus. What's particularly fascinating is that, no matter how omnipotent Jimmy may establish himself amongst the school's many divided cliques, he's still a kid, and therefore is forcibly subsequent to authority figures whether you like it or not. It also makes for a stark distinction between this and the Grand Theft Auto titles. Jimmy is no untamed tiger. He can't bring an entire town to its knees with a series of fear-instilling antics. He's teaching some undisciplined students a thing or two about common decency, sure, but step out of line and try to rough up an adult or female figure and prefects or cops will come swarming in an instant to take your butt to the ground and haul you off to the local authority office. The younger students also cannot be physically harmed. It's a very no-nonsense policy, and with all the flack Rockstar garnered as a "Columbine simulator" long before the game even came out of the works, it's a sound reassurance that the team knows its audience here and can adjust what might normally be endless barriers in a free-roaming game as such.
One exception that might have the parents up in arms? You can kiss boys.
Bully, while hardly the hallway terror it was once pinned as (hey, it sits quite soundly with a "Teen" rating), is smugly satisfying in that you are that kid who's willing to stand up and do something about it. Jimmy Hopkins isn't the most likeable cat in the world - at 15, he's already seen as many public school expulsions as his mother's seen remarriages - but heck if he's not determined to clean up the cesspool of a private school that is Bullworth Academy.
But becoming king of the campus isn't achieved overnight. From first setting foot on campus, it's immediately apparent that Jimmy won't be getting a warm "new kid" welcome. Measly bullies will chastise and shove you around as you pass by. School girls will giggle and laugh it off condescendingly as you stumble over pick-up lines. It becomes evidently clear that earning some respect around the school is going to take a bit of work. The one kid who actually makes an effort to befriend you - a delusional, ADD patient named Gary who takes his frustrations out on his malleable pal Pete - provides a sound foundation for scoping out what you're up against, but as you'll soon come to find, taking over campus is a one-man job.
The core of the game lies in tried-and-true mission-based gameplay, but with a fitting twist given its scholastic setting. You're in school, therefore, you've got to go to classes. For a good deal of your time spent on-campus, (Bully, like any good free-roaming game, expands into neighboring towns as you progress) you'll have to juggle a morning and afternoon class into your daily regiment. And while you might be groaning about how bogus classes sound, in reality, attending them is well worth its weight in gold. In addition to yielding some handy rewards (passing Art improves your game with the ladies, and in turn, boosts your health, while each good grade in Shop gets you a new and improved BMX bike). The classes themselves play out as mini-games - English is a surprisingly challenging word scramble, Chemistry is straight up button-timing, Photography is fun-filled snapshot-taking romp through town - and with only five passed classes needed to finish the course, they'll go through quickly enough that it'll never stale over. Heck if they don't go a little too quickly.
But there's oh so much more to attend to outside of the classroom, and lots to be done at Bullworth Academy and beyond. Teachers needs favors, cliques need ass-whoppins, girlfriends need swooning, and Jimmy seems to be just the guy to do it all. The chapter-based story more or less has you standing up to one student faction at a time, but that's where Jimmy's intentions become tough to distinguish. Beating people up apparently solves everything in this world, as knocking just a few waves of goons silly will earn you their hideout without a single attempt of redemption. Moreover, while Jimmy insists he's looking out for the little guy, his shameless rants of "I'm the boss!" and "You work for me now!" after taking out a clique in a final showdown seems all too self-absorbed and a far cry from his altruistic proposals. Chalk it up to adolescent capriciousness, we reckon.
But the direct results of your fisticuffs (think The Warriors, but toned down to the kind of roughhousing you'd expect on the schoolyard), and really your actions in general, is really something to be admired. Talk smack to the preppies after conquering their clique and, oh, what's this? They don't want any trouble? Precisely. And little by little, you'll earn that much-desired respect on campus. What's particularly fascinating is that, no matter how omnipotent Jimmy may establish himself amongst the school's many divided cliques, he's still a kid, and therefore is forcibly subsequent to authority figures whether you like it or not. It also makes for a stark distinction between this and the Grand Theft Auto titles. Jimmy is no untamed tiger. He can't bring an entire town to its knees with a series of fear-instilling antics. He's teaching some undisciplined students a thing or two about common decency, sure, but step out of line and try to rough up an adult or female figure and prefects or cops will come swarming in an instant to take your butt to the ground and haul you off to the local authority office. The younger students also cannot be physically harmed. It's a very no-nonsense policy, and with all the flack Rockstar garnered as a "Columbine simulator" long before the game even came out of the works, it's a sound reassurance that the team knows its audience here and can adjust what might normally be endless barriers in a free-roaming game as such.
One exception that might have the parents up in arms? You can kiss boys.
