Capcom's heist of the first-quarter slot continues unabated with Devil May Cry 4 and, shortly, Suda 51's return with No More Heroes (more on that next). Titles such as Viewtiful Joe and Lost Planet have previously fit the bill and in many ways DMC4 has more in common with those two titles than its own franchise heritage.

Explain yourself.

I will.

The fourth iteration in this series, which sees protagonists/antagonists Nero and Dante take up demon-arm and pistola against the evil that operates in a spirit realm fit to burst, is the most “European” of sequels.

Give me time, I'm getting there.

Where Lost Planet took the Western action-movie genre approach to exploding whatever blocked your path and Viewtiful Joe took the iconography and literal technology of film to enrich its 2-D brawler plateau, DMC4 has decided to stretch out on the sofa of the hardcore society hang-out and smoke a cigarette. A French cigarette. The smoke rings it blows at you are delicate and well-formed, there are no rough edges, no rudeness, no ridiculous learning curve and no real need to take your party-hat off and put the more restrictive thinking cap on. The visuals are lush, the choreography of both the in-game action and the magnificent cutscenes is cinematic in scope and execution and the narrative unravels in its ridiculous way at lightning speed. But the game is in no rush if you aren't so inclined. There are two difficulty modes from which to choose; neither are an intimidation to the thumbs, both are a compliment to the overall gradient of the package. Overall this is a much more leisurely time-attack than one may be accustomed to, and the title is better for it. The ability to pan-out story mode difficulties from one save – with upgrades spilling over into both modes – is a something to be treasured and adds a sincere level of help to those usually intimidated by the genre.

The cutscenes are astonishing. Truly. Typically bizarre in characterisation and typicallyspectacular in execution; if anyone where wondering what happened to the early 21 st century fetish for martial-arts choreography the answer is Devil May Cry 4. With bells on.

If there are spanners in the oiled, shiny works of DMC4, it's the odd sexuality. Some might argue the repetitive nature of the hack-and-slash is issue enough to provide a warning but if the title where in the racing genre would it be just to scrutinise the act of driving?

Back to that bizarre sexuality.

There's an uncomfortable Itagaki-lite atmosphere to DMC4. The sexualisation of the women lands second place only to the sexualisation of the violence. And when both get mixed up you know there might be trouble in that area of ourselves we call moral discernment.

As a spoonful of sugar, DMC4 is just the right side of sweet. And not yet sickly. So far, so recommended.

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