Trauma Center: New Blood

Trauma Center: New Blood

Trauma Center: New Blood

Still on the cutting edge.

As I write this, the third season of House is playing in the background. If you haven't seen this medical drama series, by the way, then go out and buy Season One right this second. It's a bit like a murder mystery, except the murderers are all ridiculously obscure and unlikely diseases and the chief detective is a sardonic bastard of a genius with a limp and some excellent one-liners.

I mention this because I'd bet very good money that somebody closely involved with Trauma Center: New Blood has developed as much of an affection for this series as I have over the past year or two. The opening sequence is so similar to House's opening credits that it borders on plagiarism - right down to the music, fading-in-and-out medical diagrams, even the fonts. It makes me laugh out loud every time I see it.

More than the title sequence, the whole game has taken a turn for the serious in New Blood. Where Second Opinion had the slightly incompetent Dr Derek Stiles with his invariable arm-outstretched pledge of 'I won't let you die!', New Blood has two coolly professional, gifted doctors who start the game working out in Alaska to get away from the pressures of their own talent (or something). Instead of mad Japanese sci-fi nonsense, this time around you spend a good eighty percent of your time doing operations that might conceivably be performed in real life - albeit with Trauma Center's trademark magic healing gel, giant shards of glass hidden in organs and implanted microchips in the brain.

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