Quantum Theory

Beyond this, Quantum Theory's failings are of scale and, perhaps, budget. Gears of War matches its polish with a steady stream of set -pieces to pique interest and offset the repetition at its core. Quantum Theory cannot offer such thrills, limiting set-pieces to awkward shoot-outs with sky-high gun turrets and padding the experience with room after room of the same three types of enemies. The game's central conceit, which has you infiltrating giant towers with the aim of bringing them down from the inside, encourages uninspiring, repetitive internal environments, a problem the game's art team fails to overcome.

Sometimes you'll be unable to progress because the graphics are still loading in; worse still, sometimes you'll be prevented from moving on after clearing a room simply because the designers are sending another group of the same enemies to your position. Only when this second or third wave of opponents has been dispatched will the next doorway open up. "Only one left? Shame." remarks your gravel-voiced character when you've reduced the numbers in his vicinity, in direct contrast to the your own feelings on the matter.

There's a single collectible in the game: futuristic CCTV-like orbs, known as 'Watchers', float, static in the environment. Destroy these and you unlock access to the things it has seen, rendered as information held in a menu option. There's modest enjoyment to be had in searching out the Watchers – principally because you have to squint into the sky to find them, rather than hunting behind the bins and pillars where such collectibles are usually found. However, the pay-off for finding them is so mild - the developer expecting you to be so enthralled by the game's mythology as to want to read up on its every detail - that there's little incentive to go back through the game in search of those you missed.

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Attribution

Quantum Theory's solitary innovation, which is only properly made available to you after four or five hours of play, comes when the rest of your squadron is killed, and you couple up with a lithe, anime-eyed girl. Holding down the L-bumper will hoist her into the air, throwing her towards any target you mark. If thrown on target, she'll then dispatch them with one swipe of her sword. The idea makes the game immediately more interesting, introducing the first true opportunity for tactics as you throw your companion across a room to divert attention or draw the fire of enemies.

Likewise, follow up a melee attack with an additional button press or two when she joins you, and together you can execute longer hand-to-hand combos, a simple idea that lends some non-Gears-inspired texture to the game. But the teamwork mechanic lacks finesse and, without the option to play as this sidekick, she is relegated to the role of humanised weapon, only slightly more interesting than the shotgun or rocket launcher you carry.

There is limited enjoyment to be had here, but it is far more faint that the echoes of Gears of War that resound throughout the game. The resulting tribute only illustrates just how much skill it takes to mould a handful of smart mechanics into a slick, enthralling journey, and how, just as Western developers are ill-advised to try to copy Japanese successes, the reverse is equally true.