#the lack of choice and the railroading of the player is a core mechanic

[northern-passage]

hey. have you all heard about this. they’re making a squid game reality tv show. like an actual squid games. have you heard about that. did you hear about amazon also planning a disco elysium tv series, and a life is strange tv series? of course we already have rings of power and then over on HBO we have the last of us and then wherever that shit halo show is streaming. and don’t forget all the star wars spin offs whose taglines are “the revolution will be televised” while being streamed by one of the worst media companies of all time who uses their billions of dollars to support bigots in the government and create military propaganda. have you heard about the booktok industry plant? have you heard about that author who gets their agent to spoon-feed them tropes so they can write the most soulless, bland fanfic that they can then repackage as a YA novel (she’s a new york times best-selling author btw) have you heard about all of that?

the creative industry is so discouraging right now. sometimes i really struggle to find any motivation at all when i see the way certain stories are treated - completely bastardized, milked for all their worth (and then beaten like a dead horse just for good measure) or otherwise you have creators that clearly could not care less, nothing but a cash grab with a pretty coat of paint, usually piggybacking off of trends or just using a pre-existing media (because then you already have a pre-existing fanbase. easy money!) and i’m not going to pretend like i understand how all of it works, what the process is from book/game to movie deal to netflix show but i will say i hate that this is the “goal” now, that this seems to be the expectation with so much art these days, whether the creator wants it or not.

it’s all just so... bleak.

#anyways. sorry i saw the squid games thing this morning and snapped i guess #obviously im under no delusion that any of this would ever apply to tnp or anything i write at all #but it's still really discouraging. it's still hard to find the motivation to create in this kind of grim capitalist environment... #especially when it comes to games which are already underappreciated #and i really dislike the games to movies/shows trend #the level design the mechanics the music the art style all of that is just as integral to the story as the dialogue and narrative itself #games are a way to experience a story it's a different way of telling a story. it loses meaning when you strip that away. imo #as someone who 'makes games' i guess. #like with IF the whole POINT is the player interaction #the choices #and there are so many games out there (literally disco elysium and life is strange) where that's a core mechanic #the last of us it's the opposite #the lack of choice and the railroading of the player is a core mechanic #it's not the same when it's just some actor in a costume. the player is part of the narrative. it's important #sigh. anyways support indie creators i guess #personal

[casualarsonist]

RDR2 Last Impressions

Click here for my formal review of the game:

https://casualarsonist.tumblr.com/post/179824865660/red-dead-redemption-2-review-ps4

Full disclosure, I haven’t finished RDR2 yet. I’ve put close to eighy hours into the thing, at a guess, and I still haven’t finished it. There was a time I was hoping to 100% it, and while that’s not an impossible task, it is exceedingly time consuming, and not something that I’m ever likely going to care enough to do. The last few hours of my time were spent just begging for it to end, and failing that, I simply reached the point where I finally stopped caring about finding everything, put down the control, and left. Late into my run, once everything in the game finally opened up, I did feel a gentle nudge that gave me the energy where there was none before to keep pursuing the side-activities and challenges. But everything in the game only opens up in the epilogue - the last eight of nearly one hundred hours, once the main story has been completed. It’s unprecedented, in my experience. And it’s impressive, if frustrating. But it’s also incredibly draining to waste so much time trying to figure out ways to do things that you don’t realise can’t be done until after the main part of the game is effectively finished. And by the time the game comes round to letting you have free-reign, it’s been going on far too long for you to care anymore. 

My final impressions of Red Dead Redemption 2 are...mixed. The main issue being that the problems I identified much earlier in my playthrough never resolved themselves, and only became more frustrating as I was exposed to them again and again. My horse never stopped veering into trees, or into rocks, or into people in towns and giving me a wanted level. I never really managed to completely master the temperamental, complicated, and unresponsive controls. The game never stopped feeling like it was a bloated copycat of its predecessor, enslaved by the tropes its towering forerunner established. One of the biggest issues I experienced was during one of the multi-stage side missions that exist in the world to be stumbled upon by unsuspecting travellers. These missions are one of the most valuable parts of the game’s design, filling the world with organic moments that advance themselves with the passing of time, but are unmarked for the player, meaning that your thirst for exploration is the only thing that can help you find and unlock these stories. One of these ambient side-missions involves helping a railway foreman with the construction of part of the line. You have to track down an employee stealing from him, and later chase off some aggressive competitors, and after a time the construction of the railway is supposed to progress along its intended route until it’s finished. Mine did not. Instead, after I had cleared the land for the company’s advance, my railway just up and disappeared. I first discovered this when I unwittingly rode into a sky-coloured chasm in the ground, tumbling for a good 30 seconds before reloading the game. Once, maybe twice, a blank, featureless ridge of flattened gravel would load in, but nine times out of ten, it would simply be a void - a massive hole in the ground that let you see through into other parts of the map. If your horse fell in, anything it was carrying would be lost, which caused me to nearly break my controller after I lost the first perfect raccoon skin I’d found in dozens of hours. This void cordoned off an enormous section of the eastern part of the world, meaning that if ever I wanted to travel from west to east I’d have to divert my journey by three or four minutes to skirt around it, and if ever I forgot that it was there, well, too bad. This enormous glitch was never fixed in the weeks I played this game, and was a thorn in my side for dozens of hours, and had the game not been quite so long, perhaps this issue wouldn’t have progressed into such frustrating territory, but with the amount of time I spent in its company it became a real burden, which is analagous to much of my experience with RDR2. 

After those eighty hours I felt that the game failed to rise above its flaws. It’s often a breathtaking experience, but it’s a tiresome and frustrating one too. Which isn’t to say that it’s not worth the price - I honestly don’t think I’ve ever gotten more of ‘my money’s worth’ out of a game than when playing RDR2; I mean, how can one complain when there’s so much to do? Make no mistake, it’s not that Red Dead lacks value in any kind of tangible sense, but my overall satisfaction in the experience was noticeably waning for something that was seven years in the making and with all that money thrown at it; for something that should have been a generation-defining experience. No, sadly, what RDR2 represents is a triumph of efforts and budgets beyond anything else. It’s a testament to what a massive team of developers and artists can do with infinite money, as much as it is a testament to the bloated product of such a lengthy and ambitious project. For all its virtues, RDR2 is not a particularly well-made game. In fact, all the apocryphal tales of its creation simply serve to render more starkly how lacking it is in terms of its core design. It is by far the most cumbersome of Rockstar’s games, easily the least fun to actually play, to control, and while I was initially happy to credit this as a commitment to recreating the slow, methodical pacing of life in the time in which it is set, at this point I’m far more certain that it’s actually just shitty design. Picking up God of War after putting RDR2 down was a breath of fresh air, and as Kratos smashed his fist through the lid of chests in order to wholly retrieve whatever spoils lay within, I came to realise that having to watch Arthur crouch down, creak open a lid, and one-by-one take out each individual item again and again and again had left me somewhat traumatised. God of War is an engaging experience, but rarely forces the player into inconvenience for the sake of immersion; it only ever asks you to do things that it plans on rewarding you for doing. Every chest has a useful item in it, every corner of the game has something worth seeing. Collectibles are hidden, but not obscured, and in following your instincts you can find treasures that are both practical enhancements to your character, and small emotional rewards that positively reinforce your behaviour. There is plenty of exploration to be done, but there are no true dead-ends. There is a point to everything. And while the hack-and-slash genre is, in my opinion, mechanically crude and difficult to innovate, God of War is a superbly refined product. RDR2 is not. 

I would compare it to assembling a ten-thousand piece puzzle. There’s a certain respect that such a mammoth undertaking earns, undoubtedly. Whether you enjoy that kind of thing or not, you can’t help but admire it. But it’s an activity of diminishing returns, and after a while you find yourself just looking at the box to see the finished product. In the same way, after a time I wanted to skip out on RDR2 and read the wiki. In lieu of that, I found myself just railroading the story missions towards the end, which isn’t difficult, given that the entire second half of the game is a series of dumb shooting galleries. There’s a very clear turning point, after which literally every single mission follows the same formula, and that formula always revolves around killing everything in sight, which feels even more out of place given that it runs parallel to your character more frequently voicing his doubts about the gang’s brutality. It’s no coincidence that during this latter half of the story is where it becomes abundantly clear that the game’s shooting mechanics are terrible. Lock on, fire, lock on, fire, for five to ten minutes straight. All depth falls out of the bottom of the gameplay, and it feels like the team either ran out of time or inspiration and just phoned in the final ten hours of the main story. When the game finally reaches its climax, the tension in the story is squandered as it forces you into a pointless, repetitive, and overlong fist-fight, and then things finish up with little sense of closure. For those that played RDR1, Marston’s death feels like a fitting, if crushing, end point for that character. But there is little of that sense of satisfying drama here. Instead, the game’s epilogue, rather than wrapping up loose ends, takes the place of the ending of the third act. Again, while I might have initially thought of it as a bold move, that feeling quickly wore away in favour of the opinion that it’s just shit writing. 

It’s not entirely mismanaged, though. The fact that the game forces the player to follow through with the debt collections for a long time before offering a choice, and then eventually forcing them to let the debtors go, is an example of the gameplay smartly imparting the definite shift in Morgan’s personality. It understands your discomfort at having to enforce them, and then slowly changes its own rules to reflect the changing mindset of the character. And the game is superb at retrofitting a backstory to the existing characters carried backwards from RDR1: Dutch’s final speech of RDR1 is repeated almost verbatim here as a ploy to get himself out of a bind, and in that moment completely redefines his end in the first game from a man musing on his own animal nature, to a shyster, full of empty words and devoid of real convictions and values; a pathetic human being. But for the largest part, the moments of genuine pathos are disrupted by the irreverence of the world, or by the repetition of ideas for the sake of drawing out the story, or by the disconnect between the narrative and the gameplay.

Red Dead Redemption 2 feels like two games serving separate, conflicting interests. On one hand it’s a third-person survival game that relishes the grind; a slow, methodical approach. It suffers from many of that genre’s flaws, such as unrefined controls, and a struggle to strike a balance between labour and frustration, but its dedication to the realism of its interactivity endears at times. On the other hand, it’s also a typical Rockstar narrative of crime, morality, and revenge - largely humourous, but retrofitted into a bloated body that doesn’t match it. It’s a teenager’s head sewed to an old man’s torso, with a brash intention that its creaking frame can’t properly execute. Rockstar’s writing style is a bad fit for the introspective themes the narrative aims for; the Housers cannot help themselves but plant their tongues firmly in their cheeks, and while the era in which the game is set is ripe for parody, that parody doesn’t mesh with the seriousness of the main character’s struggle. John Marston was a man whose nature was never legitimately contradicted by the gameplay. In RDR2, ‘Arthur Morgan the character’ can be in the middle of a crisis of conscience when the player decides it’s time for ‘Arthur Morgan the avatar’ to start the bandit challenges, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. It’s just too disjointed. And I don’t care what genre you’re talking about, or what kind of achievements the game itself has earned, a 3:100 story-to-content ratio is never going to offer a wholly satisfying experience. No matter the price, you’ll definitely get your money’s worth here, but whether that’s going to feel like a good thing or a bad thing at the end, well, that’s an outcome a little less certain. 

#red dead redemption 2 #rockstar #ps4 #western #video game #review #open world #action #arthur morgan #dan houser #houser