The more cutscenes and set-pieces I go through in this game, the more disjointed the tone seems. You slaughter untold numbers of poor schmuck draftees with nary a twinge of conscience, but when your compadre goes to pop a cap in one of the regime’s genuinely evil bastards you get all wound up and start spouting stuff about “you’re better than that” and “they’re not worth it,” or whatever. Half the time you are stone-cold killer guerilla lord, the other half rough and tumble orphan with a heart of gold. It’s like they mashed up an urchin from Oliver with Anton Chigurh.