The boys of Bad Company seem like the perfect sort of guys to have a drink with. They're a bunch of roughnecks, screw-up military boys with a bit of a gold thumb. The perfect types to tell great stories about turret emplacements, or tank advancements, or that hot number one of them nailed back in the States. Of course, they're also sent into a battlezone they're not expected to survive. That's they're punishment for being a bunch of chumps, ne'er-do-wells. Partly, they're just misunderstood. Partly, they're idiots. That's why they're called Bad Company.
Battlefield: Bad Company surprised me in a way few games have lately. The reason it surprised me? Well, let's see. Battlefield: Bad Company is a military shooter, a single-player follow-up to the Battlefield franchise. You run, gun, snipe, destroy, and do all-in-all manly things.
What throws me, personally, for a loop, is just how fantastically Battlefield: Bad Company has been put together. Like a Lego sculpture of the Statue of Liberty, every piece is in exactly the right place.
Enter: Bad Company. You play Private Preston Marlowe, the newset addition to the bunch. You join Private George Gordon Haggard Jr. ("Haggard"), Private Terrence Sweetwater, Sgt. Samuel Redford as you're sent to the frontlines of a U.S. war against the Russian Federation.