A few made-in-Japan heroes-like the ninja Hanzo, who swings a sickle and chain-put a faster spin on the bloodletting, but most of the cast aren't much different from their cousins in China's Three Kingdoms. Interior stages aren't cutting it set in booby-trapped castles, they take away the trademark tactics, the cavalry charges and clashing armies, and go back to the genre's grindstone with mazes and monotony.
While the Sun-Tzu slant gives Samurai Warriors an edge over most slashers, so little has changed since the series' inception that its shortcomings-namely, repetitiveness and choppy performance-are starting to show. To thwart a warlord, you'll have to maintain your army's morale, know when to attack and retreat, and work in concert with allied commanders. But it's the behind-the-scenes strategy that puts the art in Samurai's otherwise mindlessly fun war. Each of the game's 15 or so playable fighters specializes in a specific pointy object and wades through rivals with a repertoire of pokes. On the surface, the series is simple: If it moves, stab it, and when it stops, find something else to skewer. Dynasty Warriors' cast of thousands may be got up in different garb, but the song remains the same in Samurai Warriors. Sushi replaces dim sum, and Samurai, rather than Chinese swordsmen, spill blood by the gallon.
