WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE
When Naughty Dog released Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune for the PS3 in 2007, something shifted. Games suddenly began competing directly with a specific movie genre: the action-adventure blockbuster. Why bother with cinema anymore when games could deliver cinematic direction, charismatic characters, and professional voice acting—while also putting the outcome of the action scenes in the player’s hands?
At the time, the question felt legitimate. Hollywood action films in the 2000s were drowning in CGI excess, mistaking scale for spectacle. The more artificial everything looked, the less danger we felt. No matter how elaborate the visual effects, the illusion was impossible to sustain. The hero was never truly at risk. The louder and more violent the scene became, the safer we knew the protagonist actually was.
Uncharted offered an alternative. As Nathan Drake—a roguish modern descendant of explorer Francis Drake—you embark on an Indiana Jones–style archaeological adventure in search of El Dorado. At your side are Elena Fisher, a documentarian and love interest, and Victor “Sully” Sullivan, mentor and surrogate father. It’s classic pulp adventure, delivered with a confident grin.
And crucially, unlike in movies, danger actually matters. The more chaotic the situation becomes, the closer you are to failure. Waterfalls, crumbling ruins, cliffsides, and ancient temples form the backdrop as you climb, jump, shoot, and scramble your way forward. Simple environmental puzzles break up the pacing. It’s adventurous, atmospheric, and carried by a rousing score and dense jungle soundscape. At the time, it felt like the future of cinematic storytelling.
Replaying Drake’s Fortune today—this time via Bluepoint’s PS4 remaster—I understand why its reputation has cooled. The gameplay loop is undeniably repetitive: arena after arena, enemies spawning from all directions. The controls can feel stiff. These criticisms are valid.
But I just don’t care.
Whether it’s the quality of the remaster or tempered expectations, the game still feels slick enough. It balances combat, set pieces, puzzles, and cinematics with impressive pacing over its tight eight-hour runtime. Yes, it’s less refined than later entries, but it remains engaging throughout. Its simplicity makes it instantly readable, designed around player intuition rather than complexity.
Nothing in Uncharted is truly original. Third-person shooting, cover mechanics, climbing sequences—it’s all familiar. But within its rigidly linear structure, the game maintains a strong sense of rhythm. Failure carries weight thanks to a restrictive checkpoint system, and I consistently feel guided by developers who understand how to pace tension and release.
Combat is the dominant mechanic, and the arenas are clearly telegraphed. You spot ammo, cover positions, weapon pickups—maybe even a turret—before the enemies flood in. The difficulty curve is well judged. Early encounters are forgiving; later ones demand constant movement, situational awareness, and quick improvisation. Grenades force you out of cover, snipers lock you down, and grenade launchers punish hesitation.
It becomes a juggling act, and a satisfying one. I never tired of flushing enemies out of cover, improvising attacks, and watching a plan come together under pressure.
That said, the game has real problems.
The platforming is bad—worse than it should be, even by 2007 standards. Failed jumps often succeed arbitrarily on a later attempt, with no clear indication of what changed. One infamous balcony sequence killed me so many times that I briefly questioned whether I was even heading the right way. I was—but the game demanded near-pixel-perfect positioning without communicating it clearly.
The story, for all Naughty Dog’s reputation, is also fairly thin. The character dialogue is sharp and charming, but the El Dorado plot is a dull MacGuffin. Nathan’s supposed connection to Francis Drake is barely explored. I care about the characters, not the treasure—and fortunately, that’s enough to carry the experience.
The villains, however, are a missed opportunity. There are three of them, none particularly memorable. Instead of functioning as distinct narrative or mechanical threats, they blur together, culminating in a limp final confrontation with the least interesting of the bunch.
And those triple-A elements still matter. The chemistry between the leads, the dialogue, the cinematics, the voice acting, and—above all—the pacing remain exemplary. Bluepoint’s remaster smooths out most of the original’s frustrations, delivering a stable 60 FPS experience that finally lets the game breathe.
The PS3 version can rest now. This is the definitive way to play Drake’s Fortune.
As an introduction to a landmark series, it still works remarkably well. And if this is the weakest entry—as I remember—then I’m genuinely looking forward to what comes next.
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