Jiminy, it's been a wee while since MK first made parents all jumpy with its grisly portrayals of fighting fatalities. Twenty three years, in fact.

And in that time we've all become so horribly jaded to pixelated violence that no one really cares what goes on in one-on-one punch-ups any more. No, moral guardians are far too obsessed with Grand Theft Auto and Call of Duty to give a button that I've just pushed my hand into the skull of my opponent and I'm witness to some terrifying fracturing that should slay the man where he stands. Miraculously he lives, and proceeds to hurt me in even worse ways. So much for medical reality.

MKX is one super violent son of a ninja bunny, glorifying in X-ray views of fighters' breaking insides as they're being torn to ribbons.

It's as polished as Patrick Stewart's bonce and features a reasonable story. Well, reasonable for a fighter, it's no Borderlands but usually these things are peppered with godawful voice acting and the worst backgrounder this side of Brookside.

There's a whole platter of online titbits on which to indulge, from typical challenges to factions, which pin your colours to a worldwide mast of thousands. It's global gang warfare with weekly prizes for the winning faction.

We're not blessed with variety, but fans of one-on-one brawlers shouldn't be expecting any. This is Mortal Kombat: it's a blood-spattered, utterly brutal joy to behold.