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Review
Lara reaches Bartoli HQ along the route of an increasingly trigger-happy narrative that would even give Swarznegger’s John Matrix a run for his Lira. Our current location is now a disused rat maze of sorts, an oubliette of inter-connecting dining rooms all sealed off by grenade launcher proof doors. Not that it puts Crofty off. Bartoli may be lord of the manor at the start of the level, but he certainly isn’t come the end. By that point too much thug blood has splattered on marble and too many dogs have gone the same way Lassie probably did when BBC1 dropped her. The coup de grace occurs when someone stupidly leaves enough C4 lying around for our golden girl to blow up one of the outhouses. Stupid Italians.
It must be terrible being in the employment of Bartoli. The Lara threat aside, anybody being called to his office would in all likelihood have to dodge half a dozen timed flames, back-flip off a red awning, and swim through enough green water to risk having themselves turned into the Incredible hulk. I’ve heard that Venetian architecture can be confusing, but this place even manages to make Pat Sharp’s Fun House look easy to navigate. Charles Rennie McKintosh would be turning in his grave. I mean there isn’t even a toilet. I’d presume from this that everyone on sentry duty just pees out of the nearest window. The water in Bartoli’s moat looks minging enough.
Mind you, I have to begrudgingly admit that goon intelligence has at least mildly improved in this level. The thugs shoot you from balconies now and occasionally hunt in packs. One of them even has the bright idea of crouching behind the wall that’s up in the rafters of the chandelier room. Reveling in his brainwave, and coiled like the proverbial spring, he moves with far more sinuous grace than usual when the time to attack comes around. Then he kind of….dies. At least he has a go though. Bartoli takes off as soon he gets wind of the sh.itstorm coming down. And it’s not as if the rats do any damage, unless you want to include the total carnage they do to the property’s market value.
The level works on many scores, not least in its difficulty setting. It’s heavy going for such an early level, but a ‘going’ that’s satisfying none the less. There’s a tendency here to feel very much at home amongst the lavish decorum, yet not quite as comfortable so you don’t become fearful that each wall you come across is going to have you stuck for at least the following week.
Bartoli’s Hideout was the level I found to be the hardest when I first played TR2, and I still to this day very much respect it’s many pitfalls. There’s also a great deal of potential for taking the wrong route, or sniffing around in the wrong corner. That’s quite something to boast about when you’re a level with possibly the smallest surface area of any in the game.
I feel I just have to mention one or two of the traps situated around the mansion, by the way. The three Japanese statues with the giant scimitars are a good place to start...
Bartoli : Stay away from those statues son. They’re there to keep the burglars away.
Bartoli Jnr : But I like them! In fact, I want one for my room daddy!
Bartoli : Don’t talk daft! And don’t let me catch you throwing your homework into those timed flames again, either!
Bartoli Jnr : But that was Fabrizio’s idea!
Bartoli : I don’t care. You’re giving me a headache now. Shut up and go and take the dogs for a walk
Bartoli Jnr : You mean for a swim?
Bartoli : Whatever!
Were he not to burn it first, one place Junior could do his homework is in the Hideout’s library. Mr Bartoli would appear to be quite the academic, choosing to sell all his furniture in funding his trips to Tibet yet still keeping hold of his books, or at least the red ones anyway. It’s no Lost library this place. But it’s still a more satisfying area to get into than it is to leave. I was slightly disappointed we didn’t get more to do there, truth be told. I was also a little bit gutted when it came to using the detonator. Blowing up a building is a computer game glory we should be able to feast our eyes on whenever possible, a reward in this case for all the hard work we have to put in to reach the end. Keeping the camera focused on Lara whilst the thing crumbles is a bit of a cop-out in my book. The player’s mood isn’t helped when some git starts shooting at him/her no sooner has the dust settled.
Overall though Bartoli’s Hideout is a dry, self-indulging understatement of wacky shoot-outs and perky puzzle-solving. There’s no great discovery waiting here in exchange for all your hard work down in Venice. Neither is there a suitable encore for the never-to-be-seen-again speedboat. What the segment does have though is a bucketful of harsh truths if you’re a ****-poor player, and enough persistent small arms fire to make a Max Payne fanatic discover his feminine side. Lock, load, pull the levers and smile. 9/10
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