Do you ever find yourself getting frustrated by that frat guy in the horror movie who insists on going off in the dark, alone, to investigate what that noise was? Perhaps frustrated to the point that you begin to cheer for his demise as an example to the rest of the Scooby gang and a genetic improvement of the species as a whole?
I find that frustration increases exponentially when that "frat guy" is my character in a video game, and the metaphorical "going off to see what that noise was" is the only thing I can do to continue to progress in the game.
Grand Theft Auto: Chinatown Wars for the DS would be one-quarter in length if the third time someone insulted and threatened the protaganist he did what he's shown no disinclination to do with any other random person in the game and shot the source of his abuse in the head. More galling, the game's ultimate outcome would be very little different. GTA: CW has one of the most irritating scripts I've ever read. *All* the storyline mission characters stop insulting the protaganist, denying him necessary information, and refusing to help him only long enough to threaten him with death or incarceration and demand he do things that are definitely dangerous, usually illegal from the outset, and not infrequently counter-intuitive with any reasonable goals the player's character ought to have. Needless to say this denial of assistance and paranoid willingness to kill the protaganist persists long after the protaganist has walked through fire for the mission-giver to retrieve a keg of kerosene. Never in my life have I seen a game so desperately in need of a "'I have a better idea.' <Keep shooting the would-be mission giver until I run out of bullets>" button.
The GTA games in general seem to suffer to this to varying degrees. Rarely do the protaganists seem to have much of a reason to commit to their mission-givers' plans. CJ of GTA:San Andreas has as little reason for helping out "OG Loque" as he does for bringing him down. Not to mention the missions for Mike Toreno, who barely lets up from abusing him after CJ rescues him from the trunk of a car. Tommy from GTA: Vice City fares a little better, in as much as at least having some personal initiative, but he stays loyal to Lance Vance long after it begins to appear that he's popped a gasket. The original GTA 3's hero is pretty much a complete cipher and stooge. Say what one will about Saints Row 2, at least the protaganist seems to be working for his own ends and at his own say-so. Sandbox games: With great power comes great responsibility; with a large backyard comes complete inability to escape the plot.
Half-Life 2: It doesn't take a PhD in theoretical physics to know that climbing into the enemy's coffin-apparatus is probably not the best idea in the world.
And then there's Oblivion, in which I have admittedly sketchy memories of being chewed out by another character for my "foolishness" or "naivite" on at least two occasions for doing the only damn thing I could do to advance the relevant plotline.
I just completed Dead Space, a game whose plot advancement depends on following orders from people who constantly mutter to themselves and/or speak to people who aren't really there. In defense of Isaac, the lead, at the end he's being told what to do by one of the few people he has any real reason to trust in a completely insane situation. Still...
This may be the one area where videogame narratives MUST break away from traditional linear story-telling narratives. In a game, where you control the lead characters, elements which may seem like "foreshadowing" in traditional narratives all but scream for the player to throw the narrative a monkey wrench in the name of saving his own ass; minor suspensions of disbelief in the name of plot progression become unassailable barriers to maintaining the illusion of player control. For all the anti-aliasing, per-pixel shading, enhanced physics, and so-called "open worlds", so many of our games give us characters who are able to take on small armies single handed but utterly incapable of avoiding a landmine marked with waving flags and neon paint. However competent they are in other areas, how easy is it for the player to identify with the architect of their own decline?
I find that frustration increases exponentially when that "frat guy" is my character in a video game, and the metaphorical "going off to see what that noise was" is the only thing I can do to continue to progress in the game.
Grand Theft Auto: Chinatown Wars for the DS would be one-quarter in length if the third time someone insulted and threatened the protaganist he did what he's shown no disinclination to do with any other random person in the game and shot the source of his abuse in the head. More galling, the game's ultimate outcome would be very little different. GTA: CW has one of the most irritating scripts I've ever read. *All* the storyline mission characters stop insulting the protaganist, denying him necessary information, and refusing to help him only long enough to threaten him with death or incarceration and demand he do things that are definitely dangerous, usually illegal from the outset, and not infrequently counter-intuitive with any reasonable goals the player's character ought to have. Needless to say this denial of assistance and paranoid willingness to kill the protaganist persists long after the protaganist has walked through fire for the mission-giver to retrieve a keg of kerosene. Never in my life have I seen a game so desperately in need of a "'I have a better idea.' <Keep shooting the would-be mission giver until I run out of bullets>" button.
The GTA games in general seem to suffer to this to varying degrees. Rarely do the protaganists seem to have much of a reason to commit to their mission-givers' plans. CJ of GTA:San Andreas has as little reason for helping out "OG Loque" as he does for bringing him down. Not to mention the missions for Mike Toreno, who barely lets up from abusing him after CJ rescues him from the trunk of a car. Tommy from GTA: Vice City fares a little better, in as much as at least having some personal initiative, but he stays loyal to Lance Vance long after it begins to appear that he's popped a gasket. The original GTA 3's hero is pretty much a complete cipher and stooge. Say what one will about Saints Row 2, at least the protaganist seems to be working for his own ends and at his own say-so. Sandbox games: With great power comes great responsibility; with a large backyard comes complete inability to escape the plot.
Half-Life 2: It doesn't take a PhD in theoretical physics to know that climbing into the enemy's coffin-apparatus is probably not the best idea in the world.
And then there's Oblivion, in which I have admittedly sketchy memories of being chewed out by another character for my "foolishness" or "naivite" on at least two occasions for doing the only damn thing I could do to advance the relevant plotline.
I just completed Dead Space, a game whose plot advancement depends on following orders from people who constantly mutter to themselves and/or speak to people who aren't really there. In defense of Isaac, the lead, at the end he's being told what to do by one of the few people he has any real reason to trust in a completely insane situation. Still...
This may be the one area where videogame narratives MUST break away from traditional linear story-telling narratives. In a game, where you control the lead characters, elements which may seem like "foreshadowing" in traditional narratives all but scream for the player to throw the narrative a monkey wrench in the name of saving his own ass; minor suspensions of disbelief in the name of plot progression become unassailable barriers to maintaining the illusion of player control. For all the anti-aliasing, per-pixel shading, enhanced physics, and so-called "open worlds", so many of our games give us characters who are able to take on small armies single handed but utterly incapable of avoiding a landmine marked with waving flags and neon paint. However competent they are in other areas, how easy is it for the player to identify with the architect of their own decline?
