But, more often than not, it feels like he moves with steady purpose. Max is surprisingly spry when he needs to be, vaulting over desks and sliding into cover in situations of dire circumstance. This time around he's probably pushing 230 on a good day, and every pound is felt in every move. In the original Max Payne, he looked around five foot ten, 160 pounds. The moment I picked up the controller inside Rockstar's New York City offices to play Max Payne 3 for the first time, I knew that this new Max was not the gaunt NYPD cop of years past.
It'd be painful if it wasn't so much fun. In Max Payne 3, Rockstar has found a way to make you feel Max's every step, every bullet and every bone-crunching fall. Maybe it's that flawed human aspect that makes him such a compelling character. Just look at him: Ratty clothes, constant stubble. Compared to the idyllic body structure of Nathan Drake or Captain Price, Max is a veritable slob. It shows in his face, in his scars, and, most notably, in his gut.
