Contracts is an extremely entertaining stroll through 47's darkest memories...

User Rating: 8.8 | Hitman: Contracts PC
The question of whether video games breed murderers or those with psychotic tendencies are drawn to violent titles tends to crop up every once in a while, both in the global media and here in my office. A few of my coworkers have tipped an eyebrow in the direction of the occasional conversations my pal D.G. and I exchange over the gnarly tosses and tumbles accorded by the combination of a rocket launcher and Havok physics, or the amount of realistic gore that graces the walls and floor of games like Doom 3 or The Suffering. We’ve discussed the ethics of popping unarmed civilians in the noggin with a pair of scissors in Postal 2 as well as the general subject of what we enjoy most about slinging bullets and plasma rounds around haunted moon bases and the pastoral countryside of Nazi-occupied France. The verdict for the former: “It’s a game. Get over it.” As for the latter, first-person shooters tend to satisfy a yen for exploration in both familiar and exotic settings, resource management in the form of ammo and inventory, and a highly intoxicating rush (however mild or strong) that comes from trying to keep the avatar through whose eyes the gameworld is viewed safe from harm against staggering odds that one couldn’t even hope to survive in a realm without magic health kits and those delightful F6/F9 buttons.

I’m certain that we drew some looks from my office mates (all of them young enough to “get” video games, but each of them either theologically opposed to or uninterested in FPSs) when discussing Hitman: Contracts, especially the part about donning a filched BDSM zipper mask and the effects of puncturing the base of a man’s skull with a meat hook. Number 47 visits the grottiest locales of his career during a series of shock-induced flashbacks (favorite detail: it’s always raining and nasty in every reminiscence, since 47 can hear the rain pattering outside of the room in which he lays dying from a gunshot wound in the present). As before, his goal is to kill – either as judiciously or wantonly as the player prefers, although a Quake-style rampage just doesn’t work in a game like this – an occupation that some members of polite society might view as objectionable even when played for pretend.

Here’s where I simply sidestep the question of whether the nay-sayers are right; I’m not here to stand on a soapbox about personality triggers. For me, however, Contracts hits all the right notes when it comes to shooters and the occasional sneaker: interesting settings, resource management (here in the form of smuggling implements of death into high-security areas and, more than anything, timing), and the challenge of completing a mission not just alive but undetected. Like I did with Hitman 2, I played each level in Contracts from every angle: quick-and-professional for a Silent Assassin rating, the Voorhees Method whereby I quietly relocate every biker or bodyguard to a pile out back, and even an occasional noisy burst of misbehavin’ with a purloined shotgun or Uzi. Contracts’ levels are arranged to reward experimentation. I wandered through every scenario wide-eyed like a particularly evil kid in a candy store, always on the lookout for impromptu weaponry and a unique approach to a front-and-center view of each mark’s last breath.

If I have any nits to pick over Contracts, I would ascribe them to a certain degree of restlessness over revisiting certain areas (at a sssssllllooooowww walk, no less, since running often draws suspicion) while trying out different methods of invasion. I wandered around the Beldingford Manor level for what seems like forever while trying to figure out a way to stealthily subtract two targets from the world’s population while keeping a captive (and the horses whose alarmed brays kept him secure) among the living. Grief like that is easily assuaged by walking away from the PC for a while, and I always found myself itching for another try soon after.

Hitman: Contracts looks great, runs well (load times are practically nonexistent; how on earth do they do that?), and leaves wannabe assassins with the satisfaction of a stylish sendoff for some genuinely monstrous people. Although I typically prefer games in which kicking open a door with a railgun in hand is the right approach to any situation, sneaking through said portal in the dark with little more than a pillow or pool cue is never so entertaining as when #47 fulfills his professional obligations. I’m not here to discuss whether simulating cold-blooded murder is right, but I can tell you exactly when it became fun.