I made a mistake. Over the weekend, I played a different game, Saints Row: Gat Outta Hell.
I don't regret it, it was kind of awesome, but that does mean that I
lost contact with the central thread of urgency that is so vital to the
experience of any open world game.
When you're knee-deep in this rpg stuff, it seems like it matters. I have to follow Laddie the dog so he can lead me to the missing Johnny (who was, by the way, not
down a well, despite what the cliche would have you believe). And
Cornelius will be so disappointed if I don't retrieve his gold pocket
watch by blowing up an outhouse. And, of course, the village of Arroyo needs
the G.E.C.K. (so much so that the shaman has contacted me via the
astral plane - which feels genre-breaking to me, but whatever, without
that message, you could easily be under the impression that you had all
the time in the world).
It's an illusion that all the
great games are able to pull off to one degree or another, and an
excellent way to devour time one "minor" sidequest at a time. However,
it is somewhat fragile. If your brain gets diverted into another track,
it's possible that you may come to see the artifice that underlies the
game's presentation - why, the complex and often acrimonious politics of
Vault City are really just an excuse to run between the same two
locations a half dozen times.
And when you get to that level of abstraction, you have to take a step back, otherwise you start convincing yourself that Tetris is the only game worth playing because nothing else is quite so pure, and that sort of thinking doesn't lead anywhere good.
Fallout 2
is more than just a game, it is a story. Sure, from a purely plot
perspective, that story doesn't a whole lot of sense - a village sends
its brightest scion out into the post apocalyptic wasteland to find a
technological relic, and then that chosen one spends weeks killing wild
dogs, reconciling a father with his daughter, and otherwise running
miscellaneous errands for people, sometimes in the hope of finding
information, but mostly just because people give vague promises of
reward (like, I'm sure finding that kid's doll in the slums of Vault
City was a profitable use of my time) - but I don't think plot is quite
so important when it comes to video game storytelling.
Much
has been made of games' place in contemporary culture. Debate has raged
over whether they can be considered art. And much of that debate
focuses on the medium's intrinsic storytelling weaknesses - in
particular the huge disconnect that often lies between a game's
ostensible plot and the emergent story that arises out of actually
playing the game. Usually, this weakness is brought up in the context of
violence (your character is supposed to be a war-weary veteran or
idealistic reporter or something, but always winds up killing enough
people to be ranked as one of history's greatest mass murderers), but Fallout 2
is an example of the same problem from a different angle. Story-wise,
you're supposed to be driven relentlessly forward, but the gameplay is
most rewarding when you move off the beaten path and just randomly
explore (seriously, without the internet to tell you where things are,
the only way to solve some of these quests is through brute force
scouring the map).
However, I honestly think too much
is made of this weakness. Every medium has its strengths. Nothing is
ever going to be as good as the psychological novel when it comes to
exploring the nuance of a single character, but the novel can't do
visual spectacle or fast-paced plot nearly as well as movies can. For
all their other storytelling weaknesses, I think games excel above all
other mediums when it comes to the creation of setting. Nothing else is
quite so good at taking you out of your ordinary life and putting you
into a new situation, at transporting you to a new time and place, and
getting you to think in terms of this new world instead of your own.
Fallout 2 is not quite as good at this as Fallout: New Vegas,
but it's still pretty great. When you stroll into Vault City, you can
feel the texture of the place. The contrast between the dirty scrapped
together sheds of the outer slums and the neat and pretty houses of the
city proper, contrasted still further with the severe and high-tech
industrial look of the vault door that juts out of the side of the
nearby mountain - nothing much needs to be said about the history or the
future of this place in order to get the point across. You can
practically feel the privilege of the residents, the desperation of the
squatters, and the mad, brilliant hubris of the ancients just by looking
at the scenery.
And unlike a painting or a movie, you
are not just a passive witness to some other person's amazing set
design. If you want to take a peek into this building or see what's going on with that
extra, you can. Granted, due to technological limitations, there
usually isn't much depth there, but that doesn't do much to diminish the
magic. Even with your highly constrained autonomy, there is a certain
amount of automatic buy-in. You decide where to go. You can make
decisions that ultimately affect these communities. You can talk to,
steal from, and/or kill every one of these characters. You are a part of
this world.
Which kind of makes the game's hidden
deadline a double bummer. Having bypassed Lynette, the xenophobic head
councilor of Vault City in order to broker a deal between her second in
command and the newly repaired (thanks to yours truly) power plant of
the ghoul city of Gecko (which features a welcome cameo from Harold, a
minor, but memorable npc from the first game), I now have information
that points me to Vault 15 (an important location in the first game),
and possibly a G.E.C.K. Which is great, but unfortunately there are two
cities - Redding and New Reno - between me and my destination. I am now
put in an awkward position regarding the game's plot. I could easily
bypass both, seeing as how they are completely irrelevant to my
ostensible quest, but if I do, I will have no reason at all to go back.
Do I explore for the sake of exploration or do I roleplay as my
character?
This is the sort of choice that keeps Fallout 2 from reaching perfection.
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