Think Critical

In a recent rash decision to reset my iPhone to its factory state, I’ve been forced to take a look at not only the apps that reside there but also to the content within. Instapaper was one of these. In the Read Later section, I had more articles than I was ever going to realistically get to. As I slashed and burned the list, I chose to save a handful, one of those was from Patrick Stafford, circa November 2012.

It couldn’t have been more perfect.

Titled, “We play games way too fast,” the article’s focus is on just that. So many players—especially those who are also writers—play games far too quickly to fully appreciate the amount of detail that litters many modern titles (those with big budgets and open worlds especially).

Just a couple of days ago, I finished Assassin’s Creed III. Coincidentally, Stafford’s article centers around the same specific title. For a long time, I’ve wondered what it would be like to really spend time with the games I play. As a father of two, my play sessions are shorter and less frequent all the time, though my interest remains as high as ever. With AC3 I decided to really take my time and exhaust everything that the game had to (readily) offer, even if it meant taking a couple of months to finish. Did I go full-completionist and get every achievement? No. Did I have every conversation with every NPC? No. But I did complete the story, sailing, trinkets, and homestead missions.

What I found was interesting. For one, the sheer amount of acting in the game is astonishing. How many players see all of the mo-cap that I saw, hear all of the dialogue that I heard? I’m guessing not many. Then, how many of those who saw it, actually listened or watched closely (no smartphone checks during cutscenes, kids)? That pushes the number even lower. And I haven’t even mentioned multi-player, which by the time I’d mined the single-player game for everything I felt even slightly inclined toward, I could not have cared less about.

It’s great that our games contain such huge amounts of content, but are they better for it? I’d say no. On the surface, it seems to me that the more lines a character had to deliver, the weaker the performance was, culminating with Connor himself. The farther any given bit of dialogue was from the main mission, the more lifeless Connor’s delivery seemed. Haytham, Lee, Achilles, all had stronger performances. But they also had far fewer lines to record.

So what of stopping to smell the flowers? In that department I couldn’t be happier. The scenery breathes peacefully and deserves several “Hey, let me just watch the river rapids, or that soaring eagle, or the teeming city street, for a minute,” moments.

So here’s what I say in response to Stafford. When deciding how much time I’ll take with a game, taking in the sights is a must. People-watching here and there, great. But when it comes to narrative, I’ll follow the momentum. If a side quest is interesting, I’ll pursue it, but when the final confrontation approaches, I’ll let things lie. Whatever the world was like when the main characters completed their story, that is how the story will end for me.

Even then, it will still take me weeks and weeks to finish, let alone how long I’ll wait to pull the trigger on the purchase in the first place.

Ken Levine in a wonderful interview with Tom Bissell:

When I was working on Thief with Doug Church, way, way back in the day, we always said that vibe was more important than story. I think that’s the same thing as what you’re saying. Put the player in an interesting world and make him feel like there’s interesting things around the corner. That’s way more important than specific details about what’s going on.

I’ve always considered myself to be a fan of storytelling in games. Bioshock, Thief—and more recently—Skyrim and Dishonored are favorites of mine, but until I read the above statement, I would have described what I liked about them very differently. Now, I see that it is the atmosphere, the vibe as Levine put it, that makes these games so persistent in my memory. I liked living in these games as much (with the possible exception of Bioshock) than I cared for discovering the next major plot point.

The vibe of most games keeps me coming back. I love reading lore and watching artfully made cutscenes. I appreciate clever game mechanics. But the real hook is the atmosphere. I want to be there, to spend time there, to see and hear all that the game world has to offer. The rest just gives my character a reason to do so.