Assassin's Creed

Take two pounds of Prince of Persia, spice it up with a hint of Batman, then top it off with a healthy dose of Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion sauce, and voilà (as the French say): you've got Assassin's Creed. The game stars a lowly bartender who, apparently, has some really cool ancestors, including one who was a badass assassin in 1191 A.D. Via some sci-fi mumbo-jumbo, the bartender gets to "relive" his ancestor's memories (which, the game tells us, are stored in his D.N.A.). We spent the bulk of the game as the cowled Altair, a rooftop-lurking assassin, adept at pickpocketing, eavesdropping, and driving his sleeve-knife into people's necks. Though things do get choppy on occasion, the graphics are just plain jaw-droppingly awesome. The Old World Jerusalem cities are rendered with a tremendous amount of detail. The game's controls are a bit unorthodox—unorthodox enough to require not one but two semiredundant tutorials within the first hour. And, like our wives/girlfriends, the game frustrates as much as it pleases. After the game was over, we strapped ourselves into the game's memory-exploring machine, but the only ancestors we could find were all Schlitzed-up, sitting in dark kitchens playing solitaire. Our family sucks!