With Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate just around the corner for western audiences, perhaps it is an appropriate time to reflect precisely upon what it is that causes people to spend so much time hunting, crafting and… dancing in the lobby. Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate, essentially a remake of a Wii title, has been available now for the better part of 2 years, and yet its servers still see a healthy amount of daily usage. Why do we never tire of it?

The world of Monster Hunter is hardly a forgiving one. I remember when first loading up the game being thrust into a world in which I had no clue as to what I was supposed to be doing or how I was supposed to be doing it. I had all these tools and options available to me, but very little in the way of instruction as to what I should be doing with them. Why should I use a lance over a bow? How exactly do I cook meat? What is the best meal to eat before setting out? Why do I need all this… stuff? This initial sense of bewilderment put me off at first, and I imagine it has possibly put other potential fans off too. With a bit of coercion from friends however, I persevered and tried to make sense of this baffling world.

Having friends to show you the ropes goes a long way, I might add. After my initial attempt to figure things out, I explained my initial frustrations — “I dun geddit!” — to my friend, who quickly took me on a crash course through my first few big monsters and the general methodology for approaching quests. Learning fundamentals, such as bringing honey along to make an extra ten mega potions on the fly or throwing dung bombs in the face of a monster trying to eat you, are crucial bits of information that can make or break a successful hunt. You quickly realise that there is no reason to be conservative with your resources. Stingy item use results in dead hunters.

Multiplayer is what makes Monster Hunter what it is to most people. This really is one of the finest ways to spend an evening with your friends — you’re not only playing with them, but working with them. It’s a rare opportunity to exercise your teamwork skills with people to whom you’re close. There’s a subtle difference in the feeling of triumph you get from thinking “I did it!” to “We did it!”, and you’ll have a plethora of moments both funny and epic to remember between you.

One thing Monster Hunter does really well is making your character feel human. Ridiculously-sized weapons aside, you really feel the mortal limitations you would expect from being a squishy, warm-blooded mammal on two legs. Overextending yourself can lead to exhaustion, and the heavier weapons like great swords and hammers are significantly more awkward to wield than a sword and shield. Getting hit by a huge monster will not only hurt as much as you would expect, but quite likely hurl you a good distance too. Some particularly ravenous monsters will even munch on you given the chance.

This game never lets you forget: these are gigantic forces of nature you’re dealing with. You are just a puny human, regardless of how fancy your equipment gets. You can, and will, be rendered utterly helpless. You just have to deal with it. What’s so fun about taking all that abuse? Aren’t games supposed to be empowering?

The first few kills are exhilarating. You can spend a good fifteen minutes brawling and tussling with this beast, feeling utterly powerless as you get hurled around, knocked over, and brought to the brink of collapse repeatedly. Yet there are small victories along the way — breaking parts of the monster, toppling it, exhausting it — that remind you that you are making progress.

Once you finally reach the point where your target limps away, battered and broken, there’s a pang of remorse as well. You begin to question your motivations. Hunting is your job, but what have you really achieved by killing this innocent animal? During the monster’s dying throes, you can’t help but feel guilty for the needless devastation you have wrought. You’re not so sure you like your job.

Then you remember that this is a video game you’re playing. As the victory music plays, you reap the rewards of your hard work by gleefully carving up the corpse of the poor creature. This what you achieved. It feels awesome. Bloody, gory awesomeness.

Therein lies another strength of the series. The monsters themselves feel like genuine creatures — granted, extraordinary, out-of-this-world creatures, but creatures nonetheless — with instincts, ecology and behavioural patterns. They get angry, they get tired, they eat, they sleep. They make the environment their own, from Gigginox’s ceiling-crawling to Barroth’s mud slinging antics. No doubt, this is thanks to the development team’s efforts to research real animals when coming up with monster designs and behaviour. Capcom has put in major effort to make the whole experience believable, and it really shows… but what about the long term appeal of Monster Hunter?