#oneaday Day 786: On Endings

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I’m not going to discuss Mass Effect 3‘s ending here, largely because, as you all know, I have not played the game, nor will I be doing so. I have, however, been reading up on it and I understand that it is SUPER-MILD SPOILER rather bittersweet — or just plain bitter, if you prefer to look at it that way. /SUPER-MILD SPOILER

There’s been a ton of coverage regarding fan outcry over the ending. For the most part, those complaining about the ending (and even, in some cases, petitioning BioWare to change it) have been held up as figures of ridicule, the exemplification of that overused and increasingly meaningless word “entitlement”. Some professional industry commentators have even taken to insulting and verbally abusing people who believe that the ending is “wrong”, with one notable example referring to anyone who had criticised either Mass Effect 3‘s controversial DLC strategy or its ending as “whiny fucking babies”. (That netted an instant total loss of respect and an unfollow from me, incidentally, not that the person in question likely cared.)

Other outlets took a slightly more measured approach to criticising this group, noting that forcing BioWare to change its creative work according to public opinion rather than steadfastly sticking to the ending it chose to write would cause Mass Effect to cease being art and to simply be another product. (I would argue — and have done — that it’s already there, but that’s a whole other issue.) Meanwhile, articles like this one, that offer a well-considered message of support to disenfranchised fans, are rather more rare.

I’m not quite sure where I stand on the debate. From what I understand of the ending, the thing that people are most upset about is the fact that it appears to render most of the decisions made throughout the course of the entire three-game series completely irrelevant. Given that this “decision-making, choose-your-own-adventure then deal with the consequences” nature has been a key selling point for the entire Mass Effect series, I can see why people would be pissed off about it. And if this truly is the case (still haven’t played it, remember) then I’d be inclined to come down on the side of supporting those who are upset at the ending.

On the flip side, I have nothing against a bittersweet ending. In fact, some of my favourite endings over the years have been bittersweet ones. (Spoilers ahead. Highlight the text to read it. Mobile users, copy and paste the white text into a note or something.) Take Conker’s Bad Fur Day, for example, where despite kicking all kinds of ass throughout the course of the game, culminating in an epic battle spoofing Alien, Conker’s girlfriend, whom he has simply been trying to make it home to for the whole game, is still dead. Or Final Fantasy XIII-2 (another game which saw a bit of fan upset regarding the ending, though not to the degree of spawning a petition) where Serah dies in Noel’s arms, having suffered a vision just like all the Yeuls the duo had seen throughout the course of the game — a possibility which the game had set up and repeatedly reminded the player of throughout. Or To The Moon, where the old man dies and it’s still massively upsetting despite the fact you’ve known for the whole game it’s going to happen. Or how about Persona 3 (I haven’t played FES yet so don’t spoil it if I’m wrong here!) where it’s rather strongly implied that the protagonist dies peacefully on the school rooftop surrounded by his friends. Or Persona 4, where after spending a year with people, building up close friendships, solving a series of horrible murders and eventually saving the world, you have to leave them all behind by getting on a train and not looking back. I even loved Fallout 3‘s original ending, where the player character dies a horrible, painful death in a radiation-filled room while saving everyone else. Or… you get the idea by now, surely.

I liked all of those endings. I thought they were effective and, in many cases, quite moving. I think the difference we’re seeing with Mass Effect 3, however, is that the ending is being seen as rather at odds with the way the rest of the game — nay, series — has played out to date, and fans feel that they are being cheated out of the choice of ending that they want, deserve, whatever you want to call it. Of course, there is a very complicated flowchart in a ring binder somewhere in BioWare HQ that maps out all the possibile decisions players might have made over the course of the three Mass Effect games, and attempting to untangle that in order to produce an ending that would satisfy everyone would be absolutely impossible.

Without getting into spoiler territory here, though, I feel it would at least have been possible for there to be one or two alternative ways for the saga to end besides those which are already there — and which are, from what I’ve read, relatively similar in their execution, if not their consequences and eventual outcome. It seems very strange for BioWare to do this given that they’ve been so good at endings in the past — look at the variety of ways Dragon Age: Origins can conclude, for example, whereby the player is pushed towards the final battle of the game, making it seem like a linear run to the finish, but is then thrown a number of massive decision points that significantly affect exactly how the ending goes down. The outcome is the same in each case, but the means by which it is achieved is enormously different — and, more to the point, is dependent on player choice as well as how they have played their character up until that point, factors which Mass Effect fans feel that the trilogy’s conclusion is not taking into account.

Basically, I can see both sides of the argument here, though both sides also have a lot to learn about respectful debate. Many in each camp are making valid points which then have all credibility removed when someone causes things to descend into name-calling and hair-pulling. A debate over something like this should be interesting and exciting, not leaving everyone involved and any onlookers feeling faintly disgusted and ashamed. A game provoking such discussion should be celebrated; instead, this whole episode is proving to be something of an ugly blot on gaming history.

#oneaday, Day 314: In Which I Spoil The Crap Out Of DEADLY PREMONITION

I beat DEADLY PREMONITION tonight and made the confident announcement that it was, barring any last-minute wonders, very much my Game of the Year for 2010. It won’t be everyone’s Game of the Year for 2010 by any means, for various reasons. But personally speaking, it’s very much the most satisfying gaming experience I’ve had all year. Which is nice.

Throughout the course of this post, I am going to spoil the crap out of the game, so if you haven’t beaten it and are intending to, you may wish to skip this one. If you have no intention of beating the game, feel free to stick around. And if you have beaten the game, you’re probably in a similar position to me right now.

I can pin down DEADLY PREMONITION‘s appeal to me on a personal level very simply. It takes elements from two of my favourite game series of all time—Silent Hill and Persona—and blends them together to produce a game which skitters precariously along the boundary between madness and sanity and somehow doesn’t ever completely fall into the trap of “indecipherable nonsense”.

First, the Persona angle. DEADLY PREMONITION‘s world of the town of Greenvale is a well-realised one. As you progress through the game, you get to know the layout of the town and the routines of its residents. You also get to know each and every one of the residents throughout the course of the story. If you choose to take on the 50 “side missions”, then you get to know many of the characters very well indeed. This is just like Persona‘s Social Link system: optional material which fleshes out the game world and its characters enormously. If you take your time to enjoy this material, then events which occur later in the story take on much greater emotional significance as you really “know” the people concerned. It also means that when the time finally comes to say goodbye to Greenvale at the end of the game, it’s a difficult thing to do.

Next, the Silent Hill angle. It becomes very apparent early in the game that protagonist Francis York Morgan is not all he seems. For starters, he spends a huge amount of his time conversing with someone you can’t see named Zach. For much of the game, it seems that “Zach” is a cypher through which York can communicate directly with the player. Indeed, it certainly seems that way when York asks a question of Zach and it’s up to the player to choose Zach’s response.

But the wonderful thing about DEADLY PREMONITION‘s story is that we get to know York very well as the narrative progresses. It becomes apparent that he is scarred mentally by something terrible which happened in his past—his father killing his mother, and then himself. As the investigation into the murders in Greenvale proceeds, it becomes apparent to York why this incident took place. He accepts why his father did it when he is put into the exact same situation—the person he loves is “soiled” with the red seeds the murderer is so obsessed with. With this acceptance, York also admits who he really is—he is Zach, and York is the dual personality he invented to deal with the situation, not the other way around.

York’s mental scars show themselves in other ways, too—any time he begins profiling the killer and tracking down clues with which to determine what happened, he lapses into a dark “Other World”, much like Dark Silent Hill. It’s never explained exactly why this happens, but my belief upon beating the game is that the things seen as York and Zach aren’t to be taken literally. We can tell this by the fact that Zach fights a giant, monstrous version of Kaysen at the end of the game as the town’s iconic clock tower lies in ruins, yet when everything gets back to “normal”, the clock tower is perfectly intact. Similarly, after fighting George as a giant, muscular “immortal” monster, he dies as a normal man. My guess is that York and Zach view these monstrous people simply as monsters, perhaps to distance him/themself from their “humanity”. This is also borne out by the fact that when York visits Diane’s art gallery with George and Emily and Greenvale apparently becomes “Other Greenvale”, they don’t comment on it at all—because they don’t see it.

Of course, a question is raised when Emily has to rescue York from the clock tower—she sees the Other World and the creatures. Why? Is it because she has come to understand and love York and is seeing things the way he does? Perhaps. The fact that this isn’t explained may be unsatisfying to some people, but I like the fact that there are some questions which are open to interpretation.

I could be wrong about all of this, of course. I’m sure there’s plenty of interpretations all over the web by now—I haven’t looked at them yet. But the fact that a game offers such scope for discussion and interpretation is admirable.

Deep part over. Let’s also talk about some of the quirky things that make DEADLY PREMONITION such a memorable game. For one, the music. There are several points throughout the game where the only rational explanation for the choice of music is to be as inappropriate as possible. Take, for example, Emily following the dog Willie to track down the missing York. This sequence is accompanied by what can only be described as Latino J-hip-hop-electronica. Somehow it works.

By far the most striking use of bizarre music, though, is a flashback sequence where the player controls the Raincoat Killer, who is running through the town of Greenvale slaughtering anyone who gets in his way with a gigantic axe. The musical accompaniment to this scene? A really quite beautiful version of Amazing Grace. The juxtaposition between the music and the horrors taking place on screen actually ends up being profoundly emotional, and sets the tone for the last part of the game, which is a veritable rollercoaster of drama and emotion.

I think my favourite thing, though, is that despite the fact the game appears to be a horror/crime story, there’s a convincing love story element to it, too. The growing feelings between York (or, specifically, Zach) and Emily throughout the course of the game is handled incredibly well. The love story reaches its peak just as Emily is killed, making what could have been a ridiculous scene—she pulls a whole tree out of her stomach, for heaven’s sake—one with considerable impact and shock value, and one which spurs the player, York and Zach on to see the whole debacle through to its conclusion. It’s also refreshing to see a game which isn’t afraid to end some of its story threads in tragedy for principal characters.

I could rabbit on about this game for hours, but at a little over 1,000 words I’ll end that there. Several members of The Squadron of Shame are interested in recording a special DEADLY PREMONITION podcast at some point. If you’ve beaten it and you’re interested in joining us for some discussion (I’m looking at you, Raze, Schilling) then let me know and perhaps you can be a special guest. You can also drop by the Squawkbox and share your thoughts there, too.

So with that, then, it’s back to Fallout: New Vegas as the next entry in the Pile of Shame, I believe I said.