Opinion: Quantum Breaking The Boundaries
Or
Can We Turn Back Time?
Some things will always
be timeless; I still remember the excitement of the teenage me when playing Max
Payne, the novelty of the comic book art style and the sheer pleasure of slow
motion jumping into a room full of mafia goons and filling them full of lead.
There is no denying that Max Payne was a revolutionary game, if only for the
introduction of Bullet Time to the world.
I am also one of the ten
people on the planet who loved Alan Wake, clunky controls included, so it will
come as no surprise when I started drooling at the release trailers for
Remedy’s latest outing, Quantum Break. The trailers promised us much;
grippingly beautiful graphics, the usual intriguing story and a new mechanic:
stopping time.
Now the game has been
out a few months, the dust has settled on the mixed reviews and I’m sure
several of you will have played it, and some of you will have hated it. Clunky
action, underwhelming gameplay
and too many cutscenes, right? Well, if you think that then I’m here to tell
you that you played it wrong. That’s right, you heard me.
The modern gaming era
(post 2008) has made us lazy as gamers. Endless Call of Duty (and clone) games, with their
perfect graphics and ever shortening stories have enticed the *shudders*
‘casual gamer’ swearily out of the shadows and onto headsets, leading
developers to lower the bar from the thoughtful and incredibly well made
shooters that prefaced them (Half Life 2 anybody?).
Even worse is the
nightmarish generation now watching other people play games on Youtube. Now,
for some games, I think this is totally appropriate. I’m certainly guilty of
using trophy guides, or watching someone playing a game if I’m on the fence
about buying it. But what of the thoughtful, introspective games that want you
to be lonely? The Dark Souls series does its best to create an immersive,
oppressive atmosphere of struggling from bonfire to bonfire. Watching someone
else play it whilst giggling and screaming into a microphone lessens that
experience for me. The games I grew up loving were all about being immersed in
an experience and whilst there may be an argument that it’s up to developers to
make us feel that way, I feel there is a responsibility of the audience to at
least try to go with them and experience their art as they intended it to be.
This brings me back to
my point. Yes, Quantum Break’s time mechanic was limited to glamorous bullet
time and a few very spurious time puzzles, but this was never a game that was
about a revolutionary mechanic, just as Max Payne was never about Bullet Time.
Also, remember in the context of the game he has only a few hours to learn to
use his powers, not the years Paul has had. I’d have liked more complex
puzzles, but narratively it made sense to limit them.
The time mechanics in
both games were framing devices for the story of the main character. Make no mistake, the
story was sublime. Whilst I will be the first person to be annoyed at its
brevity, and I absolutely accept that the levels were very short, it was the
first game since Dragon Age Inquisition where I felt that that compulsion to
finish it. The story of a brother’s love, rage and revenge, it played like a
movie.
I felt driven to catch
the evil Paul, and ignored all logic in the chase for vengeance, justice and
heroic triumph. Even as time went on, and every genius character in the game
told Jack that there was no way he could fix anything, still I believed they
were wrong. He would do it, would he not? After all, I’m the hero and the hero
always wins. The real genius is, that is exactly how
Jack feels. This is his chase, and the ridiculousness of the logic and refusal
to bow to the inevitable was a clever play on audience expectation. The game
painstakingly told us how it would end, and yet we spent the whole time
thinking things would turn out differently just because we were the ones
playing it. Just as Jack was confused and ignored things because they did not
suit the narrative he was trying to create, so did we too as gamers.
Maybe you chose
differently in the junction points, and the resulting decisions did not play
out the way you wanted them to. I replayed every single one to make sure I
watched all the videos, and definitely feel that some decisions were better
than others. When I played it first time, I tried to act like Paul would. We
know that he loved Jack, and genuinely wanted his help. So I was compassionate,
then disbelieving, and by the end enraged. I gave into the immersion and tried
to make the decisions I felt the character would make, not the ones that I
would make. That subtle distinction totally changed how I experienced
everything.
Take even the complaints
that the in action graphics were fuzzy. If you look really closely, you can see
trails as Jack moves, almost like he is moving in an adrenaline fuelled dream,
where nothing is real and he has no time for details. Isn’t that exactly what
his story was like? Again, a clever design ploy that feels like a creative
decision rather than a lazy one.
Another complaint was
that if people skipped the collectibles, or did not watch the mini-series in between
each episode then things did not make much sense. Why do you think they
included them in the first place? That’s the nod to the gamer, the moment to
relax and enjoy the world they’ve built, a brief respite from the insanity.
They were informative, funny and endearing, fantastic bits of world building
and a brave innovation to stick between the episodes.
Sure, the combat could
have been much slicker, but if you did not have fun stopping a hall full of soldiers
and then making time explode around them, then I really have no idea what could
possibly entertain you.
The real innovation was
Remedy’s commitment to delivering a story that was consistent to the world they
created, where the experience was immersive, but demanded your attention and willingness
to play as the characters, rather than just treat it like disposable Youtube
fodder. If you didn’t enjoy it first time round, go back to it, shut out the
world around you and BE Jack Joyce. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
Johnny Di Girolamo /
@jdigirolamo
Post a Comment