Dead Island was a bit strange. A showy, standout marketing campaign belied a familiar zombie game, its roots in Dead Rising and weapon-heavy looters like Borderlands obvious. For all the modesty of its combat, for all the bugs and rough edges, it was satisfying. The endless array of swipes, kicks, bashes, decapitations and dismemberment got repetitive fast, that's true. But when it was fresh, that shaky first-person melee offered an adrenaline rush that remains vivid.

The reason it's so vivid is because I'm playing the same game all over again in Dead Island Riptide, an uninspired and unashamed rehash. Not only is it less satisfying, but any satisfaction gained is done so begrudgingly, because the game plainly doesn't deserve it.