I lost count of the number of times the game stopped to show me one of Drake’s hands slipping off a ledge, the camera swooping up to peer down on my avatar dangling one-handedly over the latest routine precipice, before he, in no way surprisingly, regained a safe grip and the game saw fit to restore my control. The game is like a bossy child, constantly tapping you on the arm and ordering you in a squeaky voice to Feel Excited Now. There is nothing less dramatic than a constant anxiety to keep the tension at a single high pitch.