God of War is another example of a new kind of video game. Or, rather, it is an example of an old kind of video game, but it stars a new kind of video game protagonist, the Superpowered Badass Who Only Cares About Himself. There was also a SBWOCAH in the lead role of last autumn's Prince Of Persia: Warrior Within. Maybe it is a trend.

Let's hope it is not a trend, because the SBWOCAH is just about the dreariest thing to hit video gaming since Gran Turismo. The SBWOCAH is boring and stupid. The SBWOCAH can turn a terrific game into a world-class irritant with one meaty hand tied behind his back.

But enough generalities. The SBWOCAH in God of War is named Kratos. He is bald and angry and drinks stanozolol for breakfast. He has a big red stripe painted (tattooed?) onto his face. He looks like Mel Gibson did in Braveheart, only more Republican.

Kratos is a sort of errand-boy to the gods of ancient Greece. Back in the day, Zeus forbade the gods to wage war on each other, but he failed to do anything to curb their jealousy or their greed or their pettiness. This left Olympus practically boiling over with frustration and bloodlust. This is where Kratos comes in. When we meet him, he is just wrapping up ten years of service, during which the gods have all used him to fight the battles they were not allowed to. He has severed countless heads and stabbed ridiculous numbers of people to death. He is bitter and does not like his job. Please, he asks, can't I go and do something else now?

No, says Olympus. Apparently Aries (the God of War of the title) is laying waste to Athens and needs to be stopped. So poor Kratos sets sail, hoping this will be his last mission. We suspect things will not turn out well, because we know that in three weeks Kratos will hurl himself off a cliff, but we assume there's fun to be had along the way. We pick up the controller with genuine enthusiasm.

Nearly every single play experience in God of War is a delight. Fighting the monsters is challenging and exciting. Finding the hidden keys is sleuthy excellence. Solving the puzzles is a thrill. But Kratos himself is a sullen, self-important waste of pixels, and he ruins the game. Flat out ruins it.

Here is the problem. Kratos is a jerk. He is an ass. When he meets a wounded soldier or a frightened civilian, his first reaction is to sneer and refuse to help. Whenever he has a chance to offer assistance or protection, he aggressively refuses it. Check that; he never misses a chance to stab an innocent civilian in the belly. Killing the locals fills up his health meter, see, so it's easier to think of them as first-aid kits than as, you know, people.

Explanation: Kratos has feelings too. At night, he has nightmares. He is Tormented. Tormented! Who are we to judge if his moral compass is a little off? He has bad dreams! And they won't stop! That must be so hard!

Early in the game, in the same scene that tells us about the bad dreams, we see Kratos in bed with a pair of topless women. This is useful, because it tells us that not even hot sweaty monkey action can make those terrible nightmares go away. Also, it is useful because 13-year-old boys like to look at low-poygon-count computer-rendered boobies, and also because word of mouth about nudity spreads quickly, and also because nothing sells video games like a crowd of horny 13-year-old boys. Except possibly a crowd of horny 13-year-old boys who are simultaneously excited about the prospect of playing as a mean angry unreconstructed SBWOCAH.

This is the most cynical kind of marketing, and if you are a grownup you will find it insulting. If you are a 13-year-old boy you should find it insulting too.