'Assassin' succeeds on second attempt

Even though they arrive like clockwork, not all sequels are created equal. Many games enroll in the "Die Harder" school of merciless expansion: more real estate, more terrorists, more guns, more Bruce. A select few, however, are more like "Spider-Man 2," chiseling a graceful form out of the raw material that's already there. "Assassin's Creed II" brings an absurd number of improvements to the series, but its greatest characteristic is something you can't put a number on: elegance.

The first game's killing (and climbing) fields lacked depth, but this one immerses the player in vivid, bustling versions of Florence and Venice during the Renaissance. It's perfect for the NYU study-abroader who'd rather experience Florence as an aerodynamic murderer with a fetish for bales of hay.

Altaïr, the hollow Hashashin, has been replaced by Ezio Auditore da Firenze, a smooth-talking (but refreshingly human) son of a nobleman whose career as an Assassin always feels like a matter of honor and necessity. The rigid skeleton of the original game — epitomized by regular business meetings at the Assassin Castle — has been dismantled in favor of an engaging linear narrative. Ezio has many more interesting and useful friends than Altaïr, including Leonardo da Vinci and a whore in a nun outfit.

When you have over 200 developers at your disposal, it's hard to avoid making a sequel that is, in the immortal words of Epic Games' Cliff Bleszinski, "bigger, better and more badass." What's surprising is that ACII doesn't just present evolution for the sake of evolution: It's a step in a much more coherent, fully and artfully realized direction. Every addition makes sense and feels like a fulfillment of the underlying mechanics. Swooping down from above and stabbing two guards in the neck with a single button press feels like the kind of absurd (but still tactical) skill that the game's context-sensitive control scheme was designed for. Everything from the warmer color scheme to the tweaked fleeing system feels balanced. As a character, Ezio feels complete. The game isn't just more badass: It's the kind of badass the developers have been going for.

The primary story is full of treachery, political intrigue, and a suitable level of stereotypical Italian melodrama. Ubisoft Montreal's penchant for fluid and accurate animation comes in handy during the game's many cut scenes, where the loud caricatures like to talk with their hands. The accents are ... not good, but the game makes up for lapses in authenticity with its filthy mouth. They don't call you a stronzo in Grand Theft Auto.

ACII is also wrapped up in the sci-fi metanarrative left over from the first game, which has boring bartender Desmond Miles helping the 21st-century Assassins defeat the 21st-century Templars by reliving his ancestors' memories. It's a convenient way to explain the virtuality (and the gameishness) of these reconstructions and to explore the question of nature versus nurture — what makes us who we are, Assassin or not? Is it DNA, or is it experience? What if they were the same thing? That's the game's tenuous answer, and I'm not sure if it would satisfy Randolph and Mortimer in "Trading Places."

The metanarrative also indulges in a big fat Dan Brown conspiracy theory, revising history and theology to the point of sheer, bombastic stupidity. But who cares? You don't have to watch professor Tom Hanks figure it out. You get to see it, play it, muck around in it; it's a world, not an object, and sometimes you even feel like you're living in it.

Matt Margini is arts editor.