Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots review

NEED TO KNOW

What is it A re-release of Solid Snake’s legendary final mission.
Release date August 27, 2026
Expect to pay $50/£40
Publisher Konami
Developer Kojima Productions, Konami
Reviewed on RTX 5090, Ryzen 7 9800X3D 4.7 GHz, 64GB RAM & Steam Deck
Multiplayer None
Steam Deck Verified
Link Official site

Stealth has changed.

It’s no longer about avoidance, visibility, or tension. It’s an endless series of “stealth action” games trivializing the uncertainty of sneaking and pushing players into open conflict. The age of camouflage has become the age of tall grass: stealth is no longer treated as a genre worthy of big budgets, but an optional feature of conventional action games. [Takes a long drag from a cigarette] Stealth has changed. And when the player’s visibility is under total control… espionage becomes routine.

Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots was at the vanguard of the stealth action shift in 2008—but playing it today, the particular way it mixes mercurial stealth and heavy weaponry is anything but routine. Snake is outfitted with a tranq pistol, non-lethal CQC training, and the latest OctoCamo sneaking suit, an ingenious invention of espionage that automatically camouflages the user to their surroundings. In his other pocket are enough guns to arm a strike force—SMGs, shotguns, ARs, RPGs, a rail gun—customizable with Create-a-Class attachments.

Naked sun

Man does it feel great to see Guns of the Patriots cleaned up. It’s a special one for me: MGS4 landed just as I reached the age to enjoy games on a deeper level. It was also my first Metal Gear, which is a little hilarious in hindsight, given how obsessed the story is with its own past.

In 2026 I’m seriously charmed by the 2008-ness of this world: from the fully functional iPod (still intact here, but lacking Konami’s official Metal Gear hype podcasts) to Kojima’s infatuation with the XM8 and P90 (objectively the coolest guns ever made). Hindsight hasn’t done wonders for its meandering plot and sometimes dull cutscenes, but Kojima’s vision for a world consumed by greed and accelerated by decision-making AIs is uncomfortably spot-on. More than anything else though, MGS4’s long exile has given me a new appreciation for its extremely balanced stealth.

MGS4

(Image credit: Konami)

Acts 1 and 2—where MGS4 really flexes its sneaking muscles—are the sort of triumphant stealth sandboxes that are quite rare these days. Maps are focused and linear, but brimming with options. Guards are reactive, consistent, emotive, and learnable. The years have gifted me patience for stillness, and MGS4 is most fun at a snail’s pace. Slithering between guards six inches away from their boots camouflaged as a patch of dirt is a bigger thrill than crouching through tall grass in Horizon, Ghost of Tsushima, or any modern Assassin’s Creed.

I love that Kojima can’t help but hand players a box of toys with hidden functions. I’m always picking up three times more gear than I’ll ever use, which I’ve learned is a blessing, because every replay is an opportunity to get fixated on a tool. This time, I finally learned how useful Playboy magazines can be when you’re trying to ghost an area. This is also the playthrough in which I remembered that the Mark 2 robot, a drivable drone with a cloak and stun prod, is very useful for covertly retrieving items in risky locations.

MGS4

(Image credit: Konami)

Tactical espionage action

Replaying Guns of the Patriots and Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory in the same year is highlighting just how bland open worlds have made level design. I love MGS5, but its small Far Cry villages that have to be approachable from all angles are trounced by MGS4’s busy battlefields. My favorite is the Act 2 raid on Liquid’s mansion, where Snake has to bypass several active warzones either by choosing a side or concealing himself in the chaos.

In my first run through the forest, I crawled up the middle until I found a perfectly Snake-sized crevice in a berm that wrapped around the riskiest sightlines. After that I got caught, shot to death, and tried again, this time finding an alternate route by diving under a shallow river. These areas pack a lot of intentional, almost invisible routes in relatively small spaces, and they’re patrolled by nuanced guards that inspire experimentation.

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PMC troops can hear you but not see you, or see you but not clearly enough to investigate, or be prompted to investigate, but not be in a hurry about it. Their physical and verbal reactions communicate their alertness without today’s explicit “detection meters,” and Kojima’s lack of restraint means there are like 12 different ways to knock one out. It’s hard not to think Snake is the coolest spy in the world once you’ve gone the extra mile to understand MGS4’s extra CQC moves—body slams, chokeholds, stun knife zap, disarms, and of course, holding a guy up at gunpoint, searching him for valuables, then squeezing his nuts until he passes out.

This is true of every Metal Gear, but it’s so smart to have an “evasion” phase between “caution” and “alert” where guards frantically search the area expecting to find you. It makes stealth far less binary, and the unpredictability of search patterns in this state is a solid punishment for recklessness.

Movie mode

MGS4’s enduring flaw is its second half, where it all-but abandons what it does best. Act 3 is a boring follow mission capped off by the greatest “turret sequence” ever conceived. Act 4 is a walk down memory lane that’s more button pressing than sneaking, and Act 5 gets brilliant again, but ends too soon.

MGS4

(Image credit: Konami)

This sequel is famous for its long cutscenes, exposition dumps, and inscrutable proper nouns, but honestly, I love all that garbage. I’m the guy who finished MGS4 then returned to the launcher to read the MGS4 Database, a contained wikipedia for all things nanomachine. I have a high tolerance and admiration for Kojima’s tastes and always find a lot to like about his characters and dramas, cringe be damned. Like how Meryl hates her dad Roy Campbell because she thought he was her uncle her entire life—forgot that bit until a database deep dive. And that weird hairless monkey that drinks cola and smokes cigs? Betcha didn’t know his name is Little Gray, and that he only smokes because Snake made it look cool.

For the first half, MGS4 has a damn-near perfect balance of game and spectacle. Then the game parts get shorter and boring. From then on it only occasionally recovers its pulse with a cool boss fight, “holy shit” cinematic trick that other videogames just never even try, and a memorable finale. There is, weirdly, not enough filler. It’s enough to make me wonder if MGS4 was squeezed for time and heavily cut in the same way that Phantom Pain would eventually release without a real ending.

MGS4

(Image credit: Konami)

I want more video settings in this PC port, that’s for sure, but I appreciate the goodies that this Master Collection could’ve gotten away with skipping, like a digital art book, manual scan, and that sweet database app.

I also clocked some small touches that confirm Konami didn’t just boost the resolution and call it a day: There’s a late-game moment where you need to shake the PS3 controller that could’ve been replaced by a generic controller glyph, but instead it recognized I was on a Steam Deck and showed custom art for the machine. And the Codec call where Otacon jokes about putting in “disc two?” He now has new lines about being on the “PC platform, a digital title!” Nice one, Konami.

This game rocks. It’s not a bulletproof recommendation given the slog of a back half, but in exchange you get some of the strongest stealth encounters in videogames and Kojima’s signature goofy, genuine storytelling with all the glitz that a PS3 could muster (and, blessedly, none of the slowdown). There’s still nothing like it 18 years later, and now I can easily revisit it whenever I want.