I’ve always wondered what my life expectancy would have been as one of the extras in Starship Troopers. Would I have made it to one of the co-ed shower scenes, or been rent in twain by a bug creature that was probably just trying to defend its home?
The answer is a profound “no” to both. I would’ve fallen out of the lander and broken my neck like I was Orlando Bloom in Black Hawk Down, but somehow less competent, and also in the future.
Still, it turns out dying in slapstick fashion while fighting bugs (or robots) is a hell of a lot of fun, especially when you’re doing it in the name of Managed Democracy™. Being rip-roaring drunk for it all is just frosting.
Let me get the basics out of the way: Helldivers II is an online-only third-person shooter with a major focus on co-op (damn, that sentence has more hyphens than the last name of the most annoying guy at your middle school). Players use drop pods to land on different planets across two distinct warfronts and battle a pair of distinct enemy factions. A major draw is the “Stratagem” system, which lets you input Mortal-Kombat style combos to call in extra ammo, oversized airstrikes, automated sentries, and more. After completing a mission’s objectives, players book it to a designated extraction point, where they hold out against hordes of enemies until their getaway shuttle arrives.
I’m sure some people play this game tactically, cutting down swathes of bugs with perfectly-synchronized crossfire and calling in effective airstrikes at safe distances. I am not “some people”. I am the avatar of “Danger Close.” I am the broken arrow. I’ve got more drone strikes on deck than a Middle Eastern wedding during the Obama years. Rambo has a bobblehead of me on his desk.
Booze-fueled overconfidence aside, playing Helldivers II while you’re a few sheets to the wind is one hell of an experience. You’ll panic! You’ll stub your toe on your table while you shout in glee and/or disappointment! You’ll have to take a shit at the worst possible moment! Your friends will hate you!
Two things matter most when going into a mission in Helldivers 2: a can-do attitude and enough firepower to make the sun flinch. We’re on a mission from Super Earth to bring Democracy to the hiveminded Bugs and AI-controlled Automatons. Naturally, we also want to make the bugs into oil, because of course. As you complete missions, you’ll earn XP, currency, and resources for upgrading. It’s a nice little drip-feed that makes my drunk-ass brain capable of doing basic math (“if I save up exactly 69 more space bucks, I can buy the 500kg bomb, and cause even more friendly fire incidents…”).
I gotta say, it’s hard to accurately call in Stratagems when you’re eight-to-twelve Claws deep. I can recall more than a few instances when I’ve flubbed a crucial resupply or turned a squadmate into a bloody pancake with a poorly aimed airdrop. This all adds to the explosive chaos that makes Helldivers 2 so much goddamn fun to play, and also explains why I wouldn’t have lasted long in Vietnam.
Thankfully, I don’t think the government back on Super Earth really gives a shit about my abysmal accuracy rating or sub-minute average lifespan. Super Earth is all about results, and brother, I’m serving up results by the platter. They’re not necessarily the desired results, but they’re being served nonetheless. It’s a lot like going to Olive Garden, ordering the endless pasta, and only getting room-temperature Spaghetti-O’s…but the refills are fucking prompt.
I learned to stop questioning Super Earth early on – a friend nearly had to execute me for treason when I didn’t immediately salute the flag once we’d raised it. Lesson learned. Now I’m always on the lookout for potential traitors during flag-raising time, like some kind of demented Boy Scout troop leader. Spreading democracy is about having a positive attitude, people. That’s why Operation Iraqi Freedom encountered such resounding, long-term success.
The Bugs and Automatons aren’t people, though, which helps me avoid feeling icky when I drone strike the face off a planet.
It’s a lot of fun to match up with other Democracy Enthusiasts from across the globe and inevitably disappoint them with my weaponized incompetence. At least everybody tends to keep voice chat off, which means I just have to imagine the invective. The usernames aren’t quite on par with the ones you’ll see in Chivalry 2, but I went into battle alongside brave folks like “NoNutSamurai” and “WarCrimesEnjoyer,” whose names should probably never be put on a statue, anywhere.
Time to Complain
The secret biggest challenge of this game is actually playing it. You thought that just because you paid your $40 and downloaded the title that you’d actually be able to play it? You fool! You simpleton! You gormless child.
Helldivers II runs on servers that are apparently constructed from toothpicks, chewing gum, and good intentions, because they run just about as well as you would expect of devices constructed from said components.
Let me spin you a tale of one woeful night when I endeavored to play some Helldivers 2 with a friend. Oh, sweet naivete, ever be by my side.
I am six beverages in for the night, and have just finished watering my succulent, Jerome (he is 31 years old, which is fucking wild). A friend calls me on Discord and asks if I want to play some Helldivers 2.
“Fuck yeah,” I say. I wipe the thick layers of papier-mâché from my nude body, holster my sidearm, and settle in on my couch to enjoy some cooperative alien-blasting. Time to dive. I fire up the game.
I wait. I get a login error. I go online and see what people are saying on reddit. The top voted comment tells me to use the quick play “card” on my PS5 menu. I briefly feel like I’m having an aneurysm, then realize that said “cards” are, in fact, real things that exist.
I try this.
I get a black screen, then a little circle in the top corner that kind of looks like it’s loading.
Reddit tells me to wait.
I wait.
Nothing happens.
Reddit says that sometimes it takes a few tries.
I give it a few tries. No dice.
I tweet something salty at the developers and go to play The Finals instead. (Hate me if you will; I deserve your loathing. That said, The Finals is a ton of fun, even if it’s sweatier than the steam room at a Russian bathhouse when Vlad Putin walks in.)
The next day, Helldivers 2 works! For me! But not the friend I was trying to play with. We do something else (if I recall correctly, we vented our frustrations by watching other people try and fail to play Helldivers 2, but don’t hold me to it – my memory’s hazier than a Shanghai morning).
The day after that, it works for both of us, and we have a great time! If only it could have worked the two previous nights. I’d be a lot more forgiving if the game was labeled as “Early Access,” but it’s not. I don’t *entirely* blame the studio for this – a lot of my side-eye is getting saved for Sony, who put a whole-ass giant marketing budget behind this thing but apparently didn’t think to make sure it had servers that, you know, worked. I’m sure the server issues will be fixed sooner rather than later – hell, they’re already getting better – but it still leaves a sour taste in my ass. Wait, what?
OK, Complaining Over
Back to the good stuff. It’s a lot of fun to rampage through the galactic warfront with little-to-no thought of grand strategy besides “hehe big bug go splat.” It’s oddly heartwarming to see the “global effort” of all the game’s players piling in to help spread democracy across the Milky Way. We’re manifesting our destiny across the fucking galaxy.
On a smaller scale, though, things are different: I’ve honed my combat tactics to a fine edge, like an expensive, oversized knife wielded by a simpleminded preteen. I refuse to fire explosives at any range over the distance of “extremely unsafe,” and I watch the cooldown meter on the 500kg bomb like it’s the countdown to Free Blowjob Day. I don’t know how kilograms work – I’m not a goddamn socialist – but it makes a bigass boom, and that makes me happy at a fundamental level.
I put a decent chunk of time in on the first Helldivers, but I’ve got to say I enjoy this one more. The shift from twin-stick to third-person shooting makes it harder for my drunken hands to fumble their way toward accuracy, but you really feel like a disposable, semi-competent grunt while you’re playing HD2, thanks in large part to the more involved perspective.
The changes from the first game go further than the camera – for one, there aren’t (currently) any mechs or vehicles to inadvertently stomp your buddies with, but I’ve spotted wrecked versions of them sprawled around several battlefields as if in the aftermath of a mechanized bender…so I’m reasonably sure the devs will add them in at some point. They may also add a third enemy faction – I vaguely recall a high-tech race of aliens I introduced to the concept of democracy (and also my bootheel). Only time will tell. Until then, I’ll be doing shots of government-approved Super Liquor and blowing my own legs off with high-powered weaponry that I am in no sense qualified to use.
Oh, if I had to give the game a rating, I’d give it a solid 8.25/10, when it works.
See you in space, Helldivers. *belches loudly*
By the way – if you haven’t caught up on the other entries in the “Joys of…” series, take a look at these the next time you’re on the porcelain throne.
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