Like the over-eager partygoer who zooms from guest to guest telling everyone about ‘these hilarious cat pictures’ he found on the internet, Saints Row 2 is at once terribly late and increasingly desperate. Thing is, while unwanted revellers generally have the decency to drink themselves into a urine-soaked pit of self-loathing, this will take more than simply covering your nose to ignore.

Anyone with half a brain can see that even if Volition was sitting on the greatest game of all time, its main selling point would be its ability to beat GTA IV to shop shelves. Sadly, this hasn’t happened and no amount of claiming that this is some sort of comic book Yin to Rockstar’s Yang will paper over the many cracks. After all, a number of its main features have already spread to the streets of Liberty City.

Still, at least the customisation options it sported last time out have been given an upgrade. As could be expected, the level of detail available is immense, offering six variables for your character’s cheekbones alone. However, with a Lego-style, one size fits all attitude to hair, body tone and so on, it won’t be long before the nation’s 360s are packed full of transvestites of every possible flavour. Damn you, inevitability! What’s more, Volition has spared a thought for the crude gamer, stepping in to save them the effort of thinking which gameplay-related animations look like someone doing a poo on someone else’s head. Tied to each created character will be a positive and negative reaction, chosen from a selection before the action begins. So, if you’ve ever wanted to gun someone down in the street then dance on their still-warm corpse, there’s no longer the prospect of jail time shortly afterwards.

As for the main event, broadly speaking we were tasked with incinerating several rival drug dens. Rather conveniently placed in unguarded static caravans, it was a simple task to skip between them and do, as they say, the business. Luckily, all available weapons had been unlocked before our clammy hands arrived, allowing access to the much-fêted Satchel charges. As the name suggests, these take the tasteful form of backpacks that can be thrown around at will then remotely detonated. Comically, AI routines appear to deliberately ignore this, so groups of well-to-do coffee drinkers can be sneaked upon; the white duct-taped package that suddenly appears next to their lattes not bothering them at all until, well, you know the rest. More amusing still is the ability to grab any passing pedestrian and use them as a human shield. Accessed via a bumper hold, it proves even more delicious at first as you inevitably forget to put pressure on, and the innocent is dismissively dispatched through some window, head first. Like most things in life, it’s the small touches that really make a difference.

All of this, plus the fact you can pick up tyres and other debris, reducing combat to prehistoric levels, means that Saints Row should offer thrills on a par with Thorpe Park. Trouble is, when the whole country’s already visited Alton Towers, only the most dedicated will most likely bother. Or people who still hold an insane grudge about them destroying The Beast. Sniff.

Dave Shaw