50 Cent: Blood on the Sand

50 Cent: Blood on the Sand

Publisher: THQ
Platform: PlayStation 3, Xbox 360
UK Price (as reviewed): £39.99 (inc. VAT)
US Price (as reviewed): $56.99 (ex. Tax)

Anyone who’s ever read my critiques of one of the many music games that are glutting the market knows that my personal music tastes are a little away from the mainstay. To me a good bit of anti-folk or folk-rock is going to appeal a lot more than a generation of singers whose only function seems to be singing (or talking) about how good they are in bed and how great they are at killing people, yo.

Give me some Down Trodden String Band or John K. Samson over the likes of Puffy Daddy or the white-noise spewing computers that must be composing the majority of dance music. Bob Dylan could take Eminem to town, any day.

Not that I’m going to let that somewhat snobbish prejudice stand between me and 50 Cent’s second effort to make a computer game though. That’s a good thing too because, believe it or not, there are quite a few things about Blood on the Sand that make it a rather excellent, enjoyable experience.


But the soundtrack? Ugh. With title tracks like ‘My Gun Go Off’ and ‘Much 2 Much’, Blood on the Sand is never going to go down alongside Outlaws and Vice City as one of the best game soundtracks, in my opinion.

The plot of the game too, which is 50 percent misogynism and 50 percent bad role model enforcement, is doomed to be eye-rolled out of existence. The story sounds like a bad amalgamation of Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and a Steven Seagal movie, neither of which are good ingredients to start off with.

In fact, to say that Blood on the Sand even has a plot is an injustice comparable to blinding a kitten or teaching children it’s OK to grow up to be thuggish, gun-toting louts.

It’s not a plot; it’s a feeble excuse for violence, one which starts with 50 Cent and the rest of his crew (read: not sailors) finishing a series of gigs in what people who watch 24 must think that the entire Middle East looks like. The game world is blatantly meant to be Iraq, but the developer constantly stops short of saying it for fear of offending anyone, which is unusual given the actual content.


After the last of 50’s not-Iraq gigs he goes to collect his payment of ten million dollars, only to find that the money is gone; stolen. 50 does whatever any reasonable man does and whips out a shotgun, demanding answers. Well, actually he had the shotgun out before hand and it’s worth mentioning that he’s depicted as carrying a belt of grenades while giving the concerts too, but nevermind. You get the idea.

As way of recompense, Fifty and Co. are offered a fabulous crystal skull stolen from the set of Indiana Jones that used to belong to an ancient king. Satisfied with the deal, G-Unit heads to the airport – but is waylaid en route and the skull is stolen too. Fiddy ain’t happy and so takes the G-Unit to war against the local warlords in an effort to reclaim the skull, wreak some vengeance and drop a few rhymes about the brutality of street violence and how he’ll always be true to the street, yo.

Ludicrous as it is (or is that Ludacris?) though, there is actually some redeeming qualities to be found deep within Blood on the Sand’s recesses, provided you’re gangsta enough to get stuck in to the actual gameplay.