5087 réponses à ce sujet

[Anima03]

 Thank you drayfish for your fantastic post.

[DangerousPuddy]

drayfish wrote...

I've never posted on this forum before, so I hope I don't embarrass myself or this discussion entirely – and I apologise for the wall of text that is to follow, but I'm an academic, and tedious tracts of self-important linguistic gymnastics is what we do.

My name is Dr. Dray, and I should start by saying: oh, dear, I've been cited for my nerd indignation. I'm surprised Made Nightwing didn't mention that my little fists were shaking with rage. But they were. They did. With feeble, pointless nerd rage.

I must point out though, that as flattered as I am to be referenced, were I still marking Made Nightwing's work I would have to circle this passage and remind him that these words are not in fact directly attributable to me: his phrasing is a paraphrase of our conversation rather than a quotation. ...However, he has an attentive mind, and I must admit that he has captured the majority of my issues with the ending, my penchant for hyperbole, and the general dislocation of the thematic threads that I felt violated the larger narrative arc of the trilogy. And I'm sad to say I did use the words 'thematically revolting' – although I've watched both the Matrix sequels and Godfather 3, so I've probably said that phrase quite a lot.  

If you'll permit me then, I did just want to write quickly in my own words to clarify some of my issues with these endings, and why I thought that they erode the themes heretofore at the core of their series. Of course, all of these arguments have no doubt been stated numerous times by voices far more worthy than mine over the past few weeks, but as someone intrigued by the production and reception of literature in all its forms this has been a fascinating – if disheartening – time to be an enormous fan of this fiction. I'd also like to particularly commend Strange Aeons for the fantastic post.  And that analogy: 'It’s like ending Pinocchio with Geppetto stuffing him into a wood chipper'. What an exquisite image!

So, putting aside all of the hanging plot threads that rankled me (where was the Normandy going? why did my squad mates live? Anderson is where now? wait, the catalyst was Haley Joel Osment? etc), I would like to explain why, when I was offered those three repellent choices, I turned and tried to unload my now infinite pistol into the whispy-space-ghost's face. It was not because I was unhappy that my Shepard would not get to drink Garrus under the table one last time, or get to help Tali build a back-porch on her new homestead, nor that I was pretty sure no one was going to remember to feed my space fish – it was because those three ideological options were so structurally indefensible that they broke the suspension of disbelief that Bioware had (up until that point) so spectacularly crafted for over a hundred hours of narrative. Suddenly Shepard was not simply being asked to sacrifice a race or a friend or him/herself for the greater good (all of which was no doubt expected by any player paying attention to the tone of the series), Shepard was being compelled, without even the chance to offer a counterpoint, to perform one of three actions that to my reading each fundamentally undermined the narrative foundations upon which the series seemed to rest.

In the Control ending, Shepard is invited to pursue the previously impossible path of attempting to dominate the reapers and bend them to his will. Momentarily putting aside the vulgarity of dominating a species to achieve one's own ends (and I will get to complaining about that premise soon enough), this has proved to be the failed modus operandi of every antagonist in this fiction up until this point – including the Illusive Man and Saren – all of whom have been chewed up and destroyed by their blind ambition, incapable of controlling forces beyond their comprehension. Nothing in the vague prognostication of the exposition-ghost offers any tangible justification for why Shepard's plunge into Reaper-control should play out any differently. In fact, as many people have already pointed out, Shepard has literally not five minutes before this moment watched the Illusive Man die as a consequence of this arrogant misconception.

The Destroy ending, however, seems even more perverse. One of the constants of the Mass Effect universe (and indeed much quality science fiction) has been an exploration of the notion that life is not simplistically bound to biology, that existence expands beyond the narrow parameters of blood and bone. That is why synthetic characters like Legion and EDI are so compelling in this context, why their quests to understand self-awareness – not simply to ape human behaviours – is so dramatic and compelling. Indeed, we even get glimpses of the Reapers having more sprawling and unknowable motivations that we puny mortals can comprehend... 

To then end the tale by forcing the player to obliterate several now-proven-legitimate forms of life in order to 'save' the traditional definition of fleshy existence is not only genocidal, it actually devolves Shephard's ideological growth, undermining his ascent toward a more enlightened conception of existence, something that the fiction has been steadily advancing no matter how Renegadishably you wanted to play.  This is particularly evident when the preceding actions of all three games entirely disprove the premise that synthetic will inevitably destroy organic: the Geth were the persecuted victims, trying their best to save the Quarians from themselves; EDI, given autonomy, immediately sought to aid her crew, even taking physical form in order to experience life from their perspective and finally learning that she too feared the implications of death.

And finally Synthesis, the ending that I suspect (unless we are to believe the Indoctrination Theory) is the 'good' option, proves to be the most distasteful of all. Shepard, up until this point has been an instrument though which change is achieved in this universe, and dependent upon your individual Renegade or Paragon choices, this may have resulted in siding with one species or another, letting this person live or that person die, even condemning races to extinction through your actions. But these decisions were always the result of a mediation of disparate opinions, and a consequence of the natural escalation of these disputes – Shepard was merely the fork in the path that decided which way the lava would run. His/her actions had an impact, but was responding to events in the universe that were already in motion before he/she arrived. 

To belabour the point: Shepard is an agent for arbitration, the tipping point of dialogues that have, at times, root causes that reach back across generations. Up until this moment in the game the narrative, and Shepard's role within it, has been about the negotiation of diversity, testing the validity of opposing viewpoints and selecting a path through which to evolve on to another layer of questioning. Suddenly with the Synthesis ending, Shepard's capacity to make decisions elevates from offering a moral tipping point to arbitrarily wiping such disparity from the world. Shepard imposes his/her will upon every species, every form of life within the galaxy, making them all a dreary homogenous oneness. At such a point, wiping negotiation and multiplicity from the universe, Shepard moves from being an influential voice amongst a biodiversity of thought to sacrificing him/herself in an omnipotent imposition of will.

(And lest we forget that the entire character arc of Javik (the 'bonus' paid-DLC character that gives unique context to the entire cycle of destruction upon which this fiction is based) is utilised to reveal that a lack of diversity, the failure to continue adapting to new circumstances, was the primary reason that his race was decimated. ...So I guess we have that to look forward to.)

And this was the analogy I made to Made Nightwing in our discussion (and which I have bored people with elsewhere): this bewildering finale felt as if you had been listening to a soaring orchestral movement that ended in a cacophonous blast, the musicians tossing down their instruments and walking away.  I find it hard to conceive how the creators of such a magnificent franchise could have made such a mess of their own universe. The plot holes, thematic inconsistencies and a deus ex machina that was unforgivable in ancient Greek theatre, let alone in any modern narrative, all combine to erode the foundations upon which the rest of the experience resides. (It's a disturbing sign when apologists for such an ending have to literally hope that what they witnessed was just a bad dream in the central character's head.)

I'm sure in my diatribe with Made Nightwing I would have cited Charles Dickens being alert to, and adapting his writing in response to the floods of letters he received from his fans in the serialised delivery of stories such as The Old Curiosity Shop. And I know I mentioned F.Scott Fitzgerald extensively redrafting Tender is the Night for a second publishing after receiving negative critical feedback.  Indeed, whatever you think of the final result, Ridley Scott was able to reassert a definitive vision of Blade Runner in spite of its original theatrical release.  Despite what critics might burble about artistic vision there is innumerable precedent for such reshaping, even beyond fundamental industry practices such as play-testings and film test-screenings.  If a work of art has failed in its communicative purpose (and unless angering and bewildering its most invested fans was the goal, then Mass Effect 3 has done so), then it cannot be considered a success, and is not worthy of regard.

And for those who would respond that I, and fans like myself, are simply upset because the endings do not offer some irrefutable 'clarity' that would mar the poetic mysteries of the ending, I would point out that I am in no way against obscure or bewildering endings: if they are earned. In contrast to a majority of viewers, I happen to love the ending of The Sopranos for precisely this reason – because, despite the momentary jolt of surprise it engendered, that audacious blank screen was wholly thematically supportable. The driving premise of that program was a man seeking therapy (a mobster, yes, but a psychologically damaged man) – indeed, the very first beat in that narrative was Tony Soprano walking into a psychiatrist's office.  The principle thematic tie of the entire series was therefore revealed to be a mediation upon the underlying psychological stimuli that produces identity: whether the capacity to interpret and understand one's impulses can impact upon the experience of one's life; whether one can attain agency over one's life. 

That ending might have been agonising, but it was entirely fitting that the series ended with a loaded ambiguity, inviting a myriad of interpretations in which we the audience were now placed into the role of the psychiatrist, suddenly compelled to reason out the ending of those final thirty seconds with the cumulative experience of the preceding six years of imagery. Did Tony die? Did he have a second plate of onion rings and enjoy his family's company? Did Meadow ever park that car? In its final act The Sopranos gives over the interpretive, descriptive function of its narrative to its audience, intimately binding the viewer to Tony Soprano's own (perhaps failed) attempts to comprehend himself and attain authorship over his life. ...But the only reason that they could even try this is because every minute of every episode to this point has been propagated upon the notion that Tony Soprano was a man with a subconscious that could be explored, and that motivated his actions whether as a loving father or brutal criminal.

The obscurities in the ending of Mass Effect 3 have not been similarly earned by its prior narrative. This narrative has not until this point been about dominance, extermination, and the imposition of uniformity – indeed, Shepard has spent over a hundred hours of narrative fighting against precisely these three themes. And if one of these three (and only these three) options must be selected in order to sustain life in the universe, then that life has been so devalued by that act as to make the sacrifice meaningless.

And that is why I shall continue to go on shooting Haley-Joel-Osment-ghost in the face.

...Sorry again for the length of this post.

Well put, thank you for this post.

[Kuari999]

drayfish wrote...

I've never posted on this forum before, so I hope I don't embarrass myself or this discussion entirely – and I apologise for the wall of text that is to follow, but I'm an academic, and tedious tracts of self-important linguistic gymnastics is what we do.

My name is Dr. Dray, and I should start by saying: oh, dear, I've been cited for my nerd indignation. I'm surprised Made Nightwing didn't mention that my little fists were shaking with rage. But they were. They did. With feeble, pointless nerd rage.

I must point out though, that as flattered as I am to be referenced, were I still marking Made Nightwing's work I would have to circle this passage and remind him that these words are not in fact directly attributable to me: his phrasing is a paraphrase of our conversation rather than a quotation. ...However, he has an attentive mind, and I must admit that he has captured the majority of my issues with the ending, my penchant for hyperbole, and the general dislocation of the thematic threads that I felt violated the larger narrative arc of the trilogy. And I'm sad to say I did use the words 'thematically revolting' – although I've watched both the Matrix sequels and Godfather 3, so I've probably said that phrase quite a lot.  

If you'll permit me then, I did just want to write quickly in my own words to clarify some of my issues with these endings, and why I thought that they erode the themes heretofore at the core of their series. Of course, all of these arguments have no doubt been stated numerous times by voices far more worthy than mine over the past few weeks, but as someone intrigued by the production and reception of literature in all its forms this has been a fascinating – if disheartening – time to be an enormous fan of this fiction. I'd also like to particularly commend Strange Aeons for the fantastic post.  And that analogy: 'It’s like ending Pinocchio with Geppetto stuffing him into a wood chipper'. What an exquisite image!

So, putting aside all of the hanging plot threads that rankled me (where was the Normandy going? why did my squad mates live? Anderson is where now? wait, the catalyst was Haley Joel Osment? etc), I would like to explain why, when I was offered those three repellent choices, I turned and tried to unload my now infinite pistol into the whispy-space-ghost's face. It was not because I was unhappy that my Shepard would not get to drink Garrus under the table one last time, or get to help Tali build a back-porch on her new homestead, nor that I was pretty sure no one was going to remember to feed my space fish – it was because those three ideological options were so structurally indefensible that they broke the suspension of disbelief that Bioware had (up until that point) so spectacularly crafted for over a hundred hours of narrative. Suddenly Shepard was not simply being asked to sacrifice a race or a friend or him/herself for the greater good (all of which was no doubt expected by any player paying attention to the tone of the series), Shepard was being compelled, without even the chance to offer a counterpoint, to perform one of three actions that to my reading each fundamentally undermined the narrative foundations upon which the series seemed to rest.

In the Control ending, Shepard is invited to pursue the previously impossible path of attempting to dominate the reapers and bend them to his will. Momentarily putting aside the vulgarity of dominating a species to achieve one's own ends (and I will get to complaining about that premise soon enough), this has proved to be the failed modus operandi of every antagonist in this fiction up until this point – including the Illusive Man and Saren – all of whom have been chewed up and destroyed by their blind ambition, incapable of controlling forces beyond their comprehension. Nothing in the vague prognostication of the exposition-ghost offers any tangible justification for why Shepard's plunge into Reaper-control should play out any differently. In fact, as many people have already pointed out, Shepard has literally not five minutes before this moment watched the Illusive Man die as a consequence of this arrogant misconception.

The Destroy ending, however, seems even more perverse. One of the constants of the Mass Effect universe (and indeed much quality science fiction) has been an exploration of the notion that life is not simplistically bound to biology, that existence expands beyond the narrow parameters of blood and bone. That is why synthetic characters like Legion and EDI are so compelling in this context, why their quests to understand self-awareness – not simply to ape human behaviours – is so dramatic and compelling. Indeed, we even get glimpses of the Reapers having more sprawling and unknowable motivations that we puny mortals can comprehend... 

To then end the tale by forcing the player to obliterate several now-proven-legitimate forms of life in order to 'save' the traditional definition of fleshy existence is not only genocidal, it actually devolves Shephard's ideological growth, undermining his ascent toward a more enlightened conception of existence, something that the fiction has been steadily advancing no matter how Renegadishably you wanted to play.  This is particularly evident when the preceding actions of all three games entirely disprove the premise that synthetic will inevitably destroy organic: the Geth were the persecuted victims, trying their best to save the Quarians from themselves; EDI, given autonomy, immediately sought to aid her crew, even taking physical form in order to experience life from their perspective and finally learning that she too feared the implications of death.

And finally Synthesis, the ending that I suspect (unless we are to believe the Indoctrination Theory) is the 'good' option, proves to be the most distasteful of all. Shepard, up until this point has been an instrument though which change is achieved in this universe, and dependent upon your individual Renegade or Paragon choices, this may have resulted in siding with one species or another, letting this person live or that person die, even condemning races to extinction through your actions. But these decisions were always the result of a mediation of disparate opinions, and a consequence of the natural escalation of these disputes – Shepard was merely the fork in the path that decided which way the lava would run. His/her actions had an impact, but was responding to events in the universe that were already in motion before he/she arrived. 

To belabour the point: Shepard is an agent for arbitration, the tipping point of dialogues that have, at times, root causes that reach back across generations. Up until this moment in the game the narrative, and Shepard's role within it, has been about the negotiation of diversity, testing the validity of opposing viewpoints and selecting a path through which to evolve on to another layer of questioning. Suddenly with the Synthesis ending, Shepard's capacity to make decisions elevates from offering a moral tipping point to arbitrarily wiping such disparity from the world. Shepard imposes his/her will upon every species, every form of life within the galaxy, making them all a dreary homogenous oneness. At such a point, wiping negotiation and multiplicity from the universe, Shepard moves from being an influential voice amongst a biodiversity of thought to sacrificing him/herself in an omnipotent imposition of will.

(And lest we forget that the entire character arc of Javik (the 'bonus' paid-DLC character that gives unique context to the entire cycle of destruction upon which this fiction is based) is utilised to reveal that a lack of diversity, the failure to continue adapting to new circumstances, was the primary reason that his race was decimated. ...So I guess we have that to look forward to.)

And this was the analogy I made to Made Nightwing in our discussion (and which I have bored people with elsewhere): this bewildering finale felt as if you had been listening to a soaring orchestral movement that ended in a cacophonous blast, the musicians tossing down their instruments and walking away.  I find it hard to conceive how the creators of such a magnificent franchise could have made such a mess of their own universe. The plot holes, thematic inconsistencies and a deus ex machina that was unforgivable in ancient Greek theatre, let alone in any modern narrative, all combine to erode the foundations upon which the rest of the experience resides. (It's a disturbing sign when apologists for such an ending have to literally hope that what they witnessed was just a bad dream in the central character's head.)

I'm sure in my diatribe with Made Nightwing I would have cited Charles Dickens being alert to, and adapting his writing in response to the floods of letters he received from his fans in the serialised delivery of stories such as The Old Curiosity Shop. And I know I mentioned F.Scott Fitzgerald extensively redrafting Tender is the Night for a second publishing after receiving negative critical feedback.  Indeed, whatever you think of the final result, Ridley Scott was able to reassert a definitive vision of Blade Runner in spite of its original theatrical release.  Despite what critics might burble about artistic vision there is innumerable precedent for such reshaping, even beyond fundamental industry practices such as play-testings and film test-screenings.  If a work of art has failed in its communicative purpose (and unless angering and bewildering its most invested fans was the goal, then Mass Effect 3 has done so), then it cannot be considered a success, and is not worthy of regard.

And for those who would respond that I, and fans like myself, are simply upset because the endings do not offer some irrefutable 'clarity' that would mar the poetic mysteries of the ending, I would point out that I am in no way against obscure or bewildering endings: if they are earned. In contrast to a majority of viewers, I happen to love the ending of The Sopranos for precisely this reason – because, despite the momentary jolt of surprise it engendered, that audacious blank screen was wholly thematically supportable. The driving premise of that program was a man seeking therapy (a mobster, yes, but a psychologically damaged man) – indeed, the very first beat in that narrative was Tony Soprano walking into a psychiatrist's office.  The principle thematic tie of the entire series was therefore revealed to be a mediation upon the underlying psychological stimuli that produces identity: whether the capacity to interpret and understand one's impulses can impact upon the experience of one's life; whether one can attain agency over one's life. 

That ending might have been agonising, but it was entirely fitting that the series ended with a loaded ambiguity, inviting a myriad of interpretations in which we the audience were now placed into the role of the psychiatrist, suddenly compelled to reason out the ending of those final thirty seconds with the cumulative experience of the preceding six years of imagery. Did Tony die? Did he have a second plate of onion rings and enjoy his family's company? Did Meadow ever park that car? In its final act The Sopranos gives over the interpretive, descriptive function of its narrative to its audience, intimately binding the viewer to Tony Soprano's own (perhaps failed) attempts to comprehend himself and attain authorship over his life. ...But the only reason that they could even try this is because every minute of every episode to this point has been propagated upon the notion that Tony Soprano was a man with a subconscious that could be explored, and that motivated his actions whether as a loving father or brutal criminal.

The obscurities in the ending of Mass Effect 3 have not been similarly earned by its prior narrative. This narrative has not until this point been about dominance, extermination, and the imposition of uniformity – indeed, Shepard has spent over a hundred hours of narrative fighting against precisely these three themes. And if one of these three (and only these three) options must be selected in order to sustain life in the universe, then that life has been so devalued by that act as to make the sacrifice meaningless.

And that is why I shall continue to go on shooting Haley-Joel-Osment-ghost in the face.

...Sorry again for the length of this post.

Thank you Doctor.  If you know any other gamer geeks like yourself that are also well educated professors, be sure to send them our way .  Having well educated and critical opinions on this would certainly go a long way to showing where BioWare screwed up.  At least, one would hope.

[ThatGuy39]

Quietness wrote...

nickkcin11 wrote...

ShepnTali wrote...

He's an entitled whiner who doesn't get it.

Oh, so you get it? That's great, you must be so smart and brilliant and insightful. Oh, well please kindly explain your way through all the plotholes and try to make the ending seem meaningful. Please. Show us what we all missed.

Judging by their posts elsewhere there is a level of sarcasm that just does not get through well on the typed word.

 
 
I thought the same thing. The poster was just being facetious, since that seemed to be the biggest arguments of the pro-ending/troll crowd. 

[Ice Cold J]

Very well stated, Made Nightwing and Drayfish.
You took what I was feeling and thinking and put it into words better than I have up until this point.
Thank you!

[optimistickied]

SkaldFish wrote...

optimistickied wrote...

drayfish wrote...

*CLIPPED*

In the Control ending, Shepard is invited to pursue the previously impossible path of attempting to dominate the reapers and bend them to his will. Momentarily putting aside the vulgarity of dominating a species to achieve one's own ends (and I will get to complaining about that premise soon enough), this has proved to be the failed modus operandi of every antagonist in this fiction up until this point – including the Illusive Man and Saren – all of whom have been chewed up and destroyed by their blind ambition, incapable of controlling forces beyond their comprehension. Nothing in the vague prognostication of the exposition-ghost offers any tangible justification for why Shepard's plunge into Reaper-control should play out any differently. In fact, as many people have already pointed out, Shepard has literally not five minutes before this moment watched the Illusive Man die as a consequence of this arrogant misconception.

Shepard isn't indoctrinated. He's pure. He has free will. The Catalyst is offering him the steering wheel. That's the difference between him and the Illusive Man and Saren. Shepard has become an ambassador for organic life, and proved the Catalyst's solution for containing the chaos is no longer viable.

<snip/>

@optimistickied: More later, because this discussion has been excellent and I have some possibly relevant observations, but first, I must take issue with this comment. Apologies if this repeats what someone else has already said; I haven't made it to the end of the thread yet.

When you contend that Shepard has free will, I think you unintentionally bring into focus one of the greatest absurdities of the "solution" offered by this ending: The only real control remains with the Catalyst, who becomes a transparent (no pun intended) proxy for The Game. There is no "free will" here, and suddenly no real story. Shepard is given three choices (the absurdities of which I won't rehash here) and only three choices, all of which smack of a Wizard of Oz-ish, "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain" deception. In this sense, The Game is the Catalyst's puppeteer. Your "free will" is bounded by the options provided by the Catalyst, whose claim, in turn, is that the Crucible has somehow made these choices possible. But the reality is that The Game has intruded in the most jarring way possible, exposing itself to us and saying "OK, time to wrap this up. Pick A, B, or C and speculation will ensue."

This is the ultimate parody of Shepard's free will within the context of the narrative -- a complete betrayal of the implicit contract between the creator of a story and its consumer. Suddenly, The Game speaks through the Catalyst and offers "choices" that expose the raw game mechanic just when we most desperately want/need to cling to our suspension of disbelief and see Shepard be able to be, "here at the end of all things," the character we have come to understand so well.

Free will inside a tiny box is really something else entirely.

I think Shepard has always had free will inside a tiny box. Mass Effect has always been a scripted trilogy. On Virmire, for example, we can't save Kaidan and Ashley. We can pick either Udina or Anderson for Councilor. Our options were never unlimited. The Catalyst merely suggests Shepard's perceived self-determination and ability to withstand Indoctrination has qualified him for Control.

Again, I think.

[DoctorCrowtgamer]

Made Nightwing wrote...

So, my lit professor and I are nerds. I throw in 'but the prize' references on my essays about Odysseus and Achilles, he throws in Firefly references in his lectures, we get on great. Now, I've previously mentioned that he disliked the endings, but today he gave me a full rundown on what exactly he found displeasing about the endgame:

"I don't get it. You get a choice between control. I just shot The Illusive Man five minutes ago because I said that we weren't ready for that power. Why on Earth isn't there an option to express how faulty that choice is? And then Destroy? Dammit, I just saved the geth and quarians, they're working together as a re-united race. Why is genocide an option? WHY? And then Synthesis just completely mistakes everything about evolution. There is no apex of evolution, we continue to adapt and move forward or we die. Aside from that, I'm forcing a choice on the entire galaxy, without the option to tell the damn thing to go to hell! All three endings were so entirely removed from the themes of the whole series that they were completely unrecognisable! It's like Casey had just finished playing Deus Ex and Mac had just watcched teh season finale of BSG."

"If I'm going to speak about 'artistic integrity', I will be compelled to point out that the ending was in no way the artistic vision of the team. BW has already stated that the ending was thought up between Casey and Mac, without any part of the peer review process being consulted. It was not a product of the team, but individuals. Aside from that, saying that artistic integrity forbids them from changing the ending is ridiculous. Many novelists have re-written entire works because of negative feedback on them. Charles Dickens wrote Oliver Twist in chapters, publishing each one as they went, and each chapter would be based on the feedback that he got for that chapter. Conan Doyle brought Holmes back from the dead. Those are just wo examples, there are many more. BW broke their own artistic integrity when they allowed EA to set their deadline. Now there are many things that you can say about ME1, but you can never say that it was rushed. The graphics were glitchy, sure, but the characters and dialogue were finely polished."

"In conclusion, I must say again that all the endings were thematically revolting. It is absolutely critical in the name of good writing that the ending of a story must match the journey. Mass Effect has never been a story about the disparity between synthetics and organics. As a matter of fact, it has been quite the obvious. For three games, BW has hinted and pointed out that life could be so much more greater and mysterious than the organic perception. It's driven the point home, time and time again, that unity is possible. So why, then, at the very end of a series that has clearly been about unity and co-existence, would they end it with the point that different forms of life simply cannot co-exist unless their diversity is totally stripped away? It makes no sense. Furthermore, it is emotionally crushing that all this hope of co-existence that has been built up from the quarian-geth storyline  (Geth Prime:...and then we will help you rebuild your world.) is suddenly yanked away at the last second. Good day."

Dr. C. Dray.

(Lit professor dropped in on P.13 to add onto my paraphrasing)

Pure awesome and dead on!

That last part is why I find Mass Effect 3 to be racist and just think about the game makes me feel sick.  The fact that something that racist could be produced and given a wide release with out one critic saying anything about it in this day and age makes me feel sad and ill.

There is a reason I call him Starhitler.

[Tony208]

Agree completely and pretty much what a lot of people have been saying all along. The choices go against everything Mass Effect was about.

Control > free will
Synthesis > diversity
Destroy > coexistence

Modifié par Tony208, 17 avril 2012 - 07:23 .

[JadedLibertine]

This is the greatest thread. The most sharp and brilliant dissection on why the ending is such reprehensible nonsense. And those on here who defend it do so in a reasoned and intelligent manner.

Made Nightwing, Strange Aeons and drayfish have won the internet. And my heart.

[pikey1969]

drayfish wrote...

I've never posted on this forum before, so I hope I don't embarrass myself or this discussion entirely – and I apologise for the wall of text that is to follow, but I'm an academic, and tedious tracts of self-important linguistic gymnastics is what we do.

My name is Dr. Dray, and I should start by saying: oh, dear, I've been cited for my nerd indignation. I'm surprised Made Nightwing didn't mention that my little fists were shaking with rage. But they were. They did. With feeble, pointless nerd rage.

I must point out though, that as flattered as I am to be referenced, were I still marking Made Nightwing's work I would have to circle this passage and remind him that these words are not in fact directly attributable to me: his phrasing is a paraphrase of our conversation rather than a quotation. ...However, he has an attentive mind, and I must admit that he has captured the majority of my issues with the ending, my penchant for hyperbole, and the general dislocation of the thematic threads that I felt violated the larger narrative arc of the trilogy. And I'm sad to say I did use the words 'thematically revolting' – although I've watched both the Matrix sequels and Godfather 3, so I've probably said that phrase quite a lot.  

If you'll permit me then, I did just want to write quickly in my own words to clarify some of my issues with these endings, and why I thought that they erode the themes heretofore at the core of their series. Of course, all of these arguments have no doubt been stated numerous times by voices far more worthy than mine over the past few weeks, but as someone intrigued by the production and reception of literature in all its forms this has been a fascinating – if disheartening – time to be an enormous fan of this fiction. I'd also like to particularly commend Strange Aeons for the fantastic post.  And that analogy: 'It’s like ending Pinocchio with Geppetto stuffing him into a wood chipper'. What an exquisite image!

So, putting aside all of the hanging plot threads that rankled me (where was the Normandy going? why did my squad mates live? Anderson is where now? wait, the catalyst was Haley Joel Osment? etc), I would like to explain why, when I was offered those three repellent choices, I turned and tried to unload my now infinite pistol into the whispy-space-ghost's face. It was not because I was unhappy that my Shepard would not get to drink Garrus under the table one last time, or get to help Tali build a back-porch on her new homestead, nor that I was pretty sure no one was going to remember to feed my space fish – it was because those three ideological options were so structurally indefensible that they broke the suspension of disbelief that Bioware had (up until that point) so spectacularly crafted for over a hundred hours of narrative. Suddenly Shepard was not simply being asked to sacrifice a race or a friend or him/herself for the greater good (all of which was no doubt expected by any player paying attention to the tone of the series), Shepard was being compelled, without even the chance to offer a counterpoint, to perform one of three actions that to my reading each fundamentally undermined the narrative foundations upon which the series seemed to rest.

In the Control ending, Shepard is invited to pursue the previously impossible path of attempting to dominate the reapers and bend them to his will. Momentarily putting aside the vulgarity of dominating a species to achieve one's own ends (and I will get to complaining about that premise soon enough), this has proved to be the failed modus operandi of every antagonist in this fiction up until this point – including the Illusive Man and Saren – all of whom have been chewed up and destroyed by their blind ambition, incapable of controlling forces beyond their comprehension. Nothing in the vague prognostication of the exposition-ghost offers any tangible justification for why Shepard's plunge into Reaper-control should play out any differently. In fact, as many people have already pointed out, Shepard has literally not five minutes before this moment watched the Illusive Man die as a consequence of this arrogant misconception.

The Destroy ending, however, seems even more perverse. One of the constants of the Mass Effect universe (and indeed much quality science fiction) has been an exploration of the notion that life is not simplistically bound to biology, that existence expands beyond the narrow parameters of blood and bone. That is why synthetic characters like Legion and EDI are so compelling in this context, why their quests to understand self-awareness – not simply to ape human behaviours – is so dramatic and compelling. Indeed, we even get glimpses of the Reapers having more sprawling and unknowable motivations that we puny mortals can comprehend... 

To then end the tale by forcing the player to obliterate several now-proven-legitimate forms of life in order to 'save' the traditional definition of fleshy existence is not only genocidal, it actually devolves Shephard's ideological growth, undermining his ascent toward a more enlightened conception of existence, something that the fiction has been steadily advancing no matter how Renegadishably you wanted to play.  This is particularly evident when the preceding actions of all three games entirely disprove the premise that synthetic will inevitably destroy organic: the Geth were the persecuted victims, trying their best to save the Quarians from themselves; EDI, given autonomy, immediately sought to aid her crew, even taking physical form in order to experience life from their perspective and finally learning that she too feared the implications of death.

And finally Synthesis, the ending that I suspect (unless we are to believe the Indoctrination Theory) is the 'good' option, proves to be the most distasteful of all. Shepard, up until this point has been an instrument though which change is achieved in this universe, and dependent upon your individual Renegade or Paragon choices, this may have resulted in siding with one species or another, letting this person live or that person die, even condemning races to extinction through your actions. But these decisions were always the result of a mediation of disparate opinions, and a consequence of the natural escalation of these disputes – Shepard was merely the fork in the path that decided which way the lava would run. His/her actions had an impact, but was responding to events in the universe that were already in motion before he/she arrived. 

To belabour the point: Shepard is an agent for arbitration, the tipping point of dialogues that have, at times, root causes that reach back across generations. Up until this moment in the game the narrative, and Shepard's role within it, has been about the negotiation of diversity, testing the validity of opposing viewpoints and selecting a path through which to evolve on to another layer of questioning. Suddenly with the Synthesis ending, Shepard's capacity to make decisions elevates from offering a moral tipping point to arbitrarily wiping such disparity from the world. Shepard imposes his/her will upon every species, every form of life within the galaxy, making them all a dreary homogenous oneness. At such a point, wiping negotiation and multiplicity from the universe, Shepard moves from being an influential voice amongst a biodiversity of thought to sacrificing him/herself in an omnipotent imposition of will.

(And lest we forget that the entire character arc of Javik (the 'bonus' paid-DLC character that gives unique context to the entire cycle of destruction upon which this fiction is based) is utilised to reveal that a lack of diversity, the failure to continue adapting to new circumstances, was the primary reason that his race was decimated. ...So I guess we have that to look forward to.)

And this was the analogy I made to Made Nightwing in our discussion (and which I have bored people with elsewhere): this bewildering finale felt as if you had been listening to a soaring orchestral movement that ended in a cacophonous blast, the musicians tossing down their instruments and walking away.  I find it hard to conceive how the creators of such a magnificent franchise could have made such a mess of their own universe. The plot holes, thematic inconsistencies and a deus ex machina that was unforgivable in ancient Greek theatre, let alone in any modern narrative, all combine to erode the foundations upon which the rest of the experience resides. (It's a disturbing sign when apologists for such an ending have to literally hope that what they witnessed was just a bad dream in the central character's head.)

I'm sure in my diatribe with Made Nightwing I would have cited Charles Dickens being alert to, and adapting his writing in response to the floods of letters he received from his fans in the serialised delivery of stories such as The Old Curiosity Shop. And I know I mentioned F.Scott Fitzgerald extensively redrafting Tender is the Night for a second publishing after receiving negative critical feedback.  Indeed, whatever you think of the final result, Ridley Scott was able to reassert a definitive vision of Blade Runner in spite of its original theatrical release.  Despite what critics might burble about artistic vision there is innumerable precedent for such reshaping, even beyond fundamental industry practices such as play-testings and film test-screenings.  If a work of art has failed in its communicative purpose (and unless angering and bewildering its most invested fans was the goal, then Mass Effect 3 has done so), then it cannot be considered a success, and is not worthy of regard.

And for those who would respond that I, and fans like myself, are simply upset because the endings do not offer some irrefutable 'clarity' that would mar the poetic mysteries of the ending, I would point out that I am in no way against obscure or bewildering endings: if they are earned. In contrast to a majority of viewers, I happen to love the ending of The Sopranos for precisely this reason – because, despite the momentary jolt of surprise it engendered, that audacious blank screen was wholly thematically supportable. The driving premise of that program was a man seeking therapy (a mobster, yes, but a psychologically damaged man) – indeed, the very first beat in that narrative was Tony Soprano walking into a psychiatrist's office.  The principle thematic tie of the entire series was therefore revealed to be a mediation upon the underlying psychological stimuli that produces identity: whether the capacity to interpret and understand one's impulses can impact upon the experience of one's life; whether one can attain agency over one's life. 

That ending might have been agonising, but it was entirely fitting that the series ended with a loaded ambiguity, inviting a myriad of interpretations in which we the audience were now placed into the role of the psychiatrist, suddenly compelled to reason out the ending of those final thirty seconds with the cumulative experience of the preceding six years of imagery. Did Tony die? Did he have a second plate of onion rings and enjoy his family's company? Did Meadow ever park that car? In its final act The Sopranos gives over the interpretive, descriptive function of its narrative to its audience, intimately binding the viewer to Tony Soprano's own (perhaps failed) attempts to comprehend himself and attain authorship over his life. ...But the only reason that they could even try this is because every minute of every episode to this point has been propagated upon the notion that Tony Soprano was a man with a subconscious that could be explored, and that motivated his actions whether as a loving father or brutal criminal.

The obscurities in the ending of Mass Effect 3 have not been similarly earned by its prior narrative. This narrative has not until this point been about dominance, extermination, and the imposition of uniformity – indeed, Shepard has spent over a hundred hours of narrative fighting against precisely these three themes. And if one of these three (and only these three) options must be selected in order to sustain life in the universe, then that life has been so devalued by that act as to make the sacrifice meaningless.

And that is why I shall continue to go on shooting Haley-Joel-Osment-ghost in the face.

...Sorry again for the length of this post.

Yikes, angry lit prof is angry. ;p

nice read. haven't seen a post this long that's been this worthwhile to read for quite some time now.

[Kulpy]

This Human will be accepted into the geth consensus for higher thinking achievments

[Cobra's_back]

Ice Cold J wrote...

Very well stated, Made Nightwing and Drayfish.
You took what I was feeling and thinking and put it into words better than I have up until this point.
Thank you!

This love the read.

[DoctorCrowtgamer]

Tony208 wrote...

Agree completely and pretty much what a lot of people have been saying all along. The choices go against everything Mass Effect was about.

Control > free will
Synthesis > diversity
Destroy > coexistence

Yep and that is why I can't look at any of the Mass Effect games any more with out feeling a little ill that this happened in this day and age.

[optimistickied]

recentio wrote...

I would go as far as to say people defending the ending are the ones too stupid to understand on a deeper level its myriad flaws. But, perhaps I should say "what is wrong with it" so as not to stretch their vocabularies to breaking.

You have tugged my limited vocabulary to its absolutely threshold, you sparking genius.

I even had to crack a Webster's.

I'm not overanalytical; I don't sit and pedantically deconstruct the various trivia that make up the media I find entertaining. I thought the endings were interesting. I made allowances. I do not necessarily want to receive Casey Hudson's head on a pike. I think the conceptual details of the endings have something very cool to say, and their shortcomings do not necessarily diminish my ability to extract meaning from them. Or satisfaction.

Moreover, I don't censure what I do not like; I don't place demands on anyone. I do believe very strongly in supporting a free creative environment. I think criticism is valid, but abusive brickbatting is not. I believe that by mollifying our criticisms, to humanize our interactions with one another on matters of subjectivity, we will probably lead to more meaningful discussion than: "It sucks and I demand a new one!"

[SkaldFish]

optimistickied wrote...

SkaldFish wrote...

<snip/>

Free will inside a tiny box is really something else entirely.

I think Shepard has always had free will inside a tiny box. Mass Effect has always been a scripted trilogy. On Virmire, for example, we can't save Kaidan and Ashley. We can pick either Udina or Anderson for Councilor. Our options were never unlimited. The Catalyst merely suggests Shepard's perceived self-determination and ability to withstand Indoctrination has qualified him for Control.

Again, I think.

Yes, I agree there's always been a box, so my point needs clarification.

Of course we never had unlimited choices. Shepard's "free will," as is the case in any branching interactive story matrix, is always restricted by what the writers have provided as branching options. Up until now, though, those writers have done a reasonable job of allowing the player to maintain suspension of disbelief by making those choices feel appropriate within the narrative context. (Actually, I think the Kaidan/Ashley decision way back in ME1 could have been handled more effectively, because I did feel the writers' hands come in and grab the controller, but that's a topic for another discussion.) Here, though, suspension of disbelief is shattered, for reasons that have been described very expertly by others here and on other BSN threads. Suddenly we are outside the story trying to make it all fit. It's no longer about the story. It's about us as we try to make sense of what The Game is forcing us to do. (EDIT: ...which is, basically, to suddenly jump into a different, much smaller box.)

Sure, we can, though some advanced apologetics, fill in the blanks to achieve some semblance of coherence, but this requires us to step out of the story, and that's my point, really: Good storytelling never requires this. I think video games in general encourage it, though, because in most cases the storytelling is fair to dismal kitsch, and we've been conditioned to accept that mediocrity by becoming unconscious apologists. The Mass Effect series had been different. Here we had coherence -- good-to-excellent storytelling, a carefully crafted universe, and at least some three-dimensional characters. We came to expect the series to follow the conventions of good storytelling (which DO exist, by the way -- it's not all about each person's subjective experience).

I personally believe -- this is just my opinion and is not a criticism of players but of the gaming industry -- that those who didn't mind or liked the ending are just exhibiting the behavior we've all been expected by the industry to display. We've all been conditioned to accept narrative mediocrity. We're not to mind dropping out of the story and taking on the role of writer when a game's writers fail. Better, in fact, if we forget that it even matters. Best if we actually begin to enjoy playing that role.

Modifié par SkaldFish, 17 avril 2012 - 08:23 .

[DoctorCrowtgamer]

optimistickied wrote...

recentio wrote...

I would go as far as to say people defending the ending are the ones too stupid to understand on a deeper level its myriad flaws. But, perhaps I should say "what is wrong with it" so as not to stretch their vocabularies to breaking.

You have tugged my limited vocabulary to its absolutely threshold, you sparking genius.

I even had to crack a Webster's.

I'm not overanalytical; I don't sit and pedantically deconstruct the various trivia that make up the media I find entertaining. I thought the endings were interesting. I made allowances. I do not necessarily want to receive Casey Hudson's head on a pike.

If it showed up in the mail I would not turn it down.

[pistolols]

like omg.. control or destroy the reapahs!?! You are right that is sooooooo thematically revolting! I was never able to put it into words but you took exactly what i was feeling and did it for me THANK YOU!

This goes against everything my shepard stands for! My shepard has never been forced to make a choice like this! My Shepard pretends Legion's loyalty mission in ME2 never existed! Ending the game with a decision that's actually difficult to make? RAAAGE!! I mean GEE WIZZ BiOwEAr, don't you know we were expecting Shepard to own Harbinger's ass with an Avenger assault rifle and see our LI's boobies?!? You guys are freaking jerks i'll never trust you or buy one of your freaking games again!

Modifié par pistolols, 17 avril 2012 - 08:41 .

[Phydeaux314]

Thank you, professor, for that excellent piece.

[Kushan101]

Fantastically written, highlighted the philosophical problems with the ending: rather than the myriad of plot holes already uncovered.

A great analysis, by both Strange Aeons and Dr Dray.

[DoctorCrowtgamer]

pistolols wrote...

like omg.. control or destroy the reapahs!?! You are right that is sooooooo thematically revolting! I was never able to put it into words but you took exactly what i was feeling and did it for me THANK YOU!

This goes against everything my shepard stands for! My shepard has never been forced to make a choice like this! My Shepard pretends Legion's loyalty mission in ME2 never existed! Ending the game with a decision that's actually difficult to make? RAAAGE!! I mean GEE WIZZ BiOwEAr, don't you know we were expecting Shepard to own Harbinger's ass with an Avenger assault rifle and see our LI's boobies?!? You guys are freaking jerks i'll never trust you or buy one of your freaking games again!

Parents really shouldn't let their four year olds post on message boards.

[Jassu1979]

I wondered how this thread could generate so many pages with such a relative small number of replies. And then I noticed people quoting the ENTIRE FIRST POST in all of its epic length only to add a single sentence of their own.

Guys, if you just want to say "thank you" or "well said", PLEASE refrain from including the entire wall of text in your reply. My poor mouse hurts from all that unnecessary scrolling...

[drayfish]

optimistickied wrote...

Oh, cool, and do you wear tweed? Completely serious. There is no tweed in American seminars.

The lack of textual reinforcement was kind of a downer, but I feel like there was some interesting visual storytelling going on, and the Catalyst, though unwanted, brought up some issues I was uncomfortable with, namely the role of technology. That prolonged sequence where you walk toward your choice in silence was pretty eerie for me. I admit the endings don't seem wholly consistent with the rest of the story, but do you think--all silliness aside--that synthesis, with all of its smacks of transhumanism, was a concept you would have liked to have seen explored more thoroughly? Do you think the posthuman man is an interesting subject, or one that fits within the Mass Effect trilogy? Do you think the Catalyst's warning to Shepard that the created will rebel against their creators is worthy of elucidation, or was it an unsatisfying platitude?

Also "Dr Dre." That's funny.

No tweed, unfortunately; but premature hair loss and the capacity to wear neck ties un-ironically. So there's that.
 
I would have loved more of an exploration of transhumanism in the ending – indeed, it felt like that's where we were headed anyway in the narrative. EDI, the free Geth, Shepard and his synthetic implants: the story has constantly been heading toward a blurring of the delineations between what can be considered organic or synthetic life (thereby making the Shiny-Faced-Catalyst's thesis that created-will-inevitably-destroy-creator even less defensible). My issue is that in taking that (literal) plunge and imposing this unification upon all states of life Shepard effectively wipes out the evolutionary growth that earns such ascension.
 
I will admit that the slowed, aching sequence of walking toward your selection, feeling the weight of that decision hanging over you before you even made it, was pretty powerful, and I was devastated when my final choice rippled through the universe, however (and I'm sorry to descend back into frothy rage territory) for me it felt emotionally cheap, because my Shepard was being compelled to make a decision that flew in the face of everything her experience had lead her to believe. 
 
Again, maybe that's the artistic choice that the creators of the game wanted people to experience: that no matter how hard you fight, how long you work, ultimately you must sell out your core values in order to succeed in this fight. ...But if so, wow that's grim, and doesn't say much for the value of the life being preserved.

[optimistickied]

SkaldFish wrote...

Yes, I agree there's always been a box, so my point needs clarification.

Of course we never had unlimited choices. Shepard's "free will," as is the case in any branching interactive story matrix, is always restricted by what the writers have provided as branching options. Up until now, though, those writers have done a reasonable job of allowing the player to maintain suspension of disbelief by making those choices feel appropriate within the narrative context. (Actually, I think the Kaidan/Ashley decision way back in ME1 could have been handled more effectively, because I did feel the writers' hands come in and grab the controller, but that's a topic for another discussion.) Here, though, suspension of disbelief is shattered, for reasons that have been described very expertly by others here and on other BSN threads. Suddenly we are outside the story trying to make it all fit. It's no longer about the story. It's about us as we try to make sense of what The Game is forcing us to do. (EDIT: ...which is, basically, to suddenly jump into a different, much smaller box.)

Sure, we can, though some advanced apologetics, fill in the blanks to achieve some semblance of coherence, but this requires us to step out of the story, and that's my point, really: Good storytelling never requires this. I think video games in general encourage it, though, because in most cases the storytelling is fair to dismal kitsch, and we've been conditioned to accept that mediocrity by becoming unconscious apologists. The Mass Effect series had been different. Here we had coherence -- good-to-excellent storytelling, a carefully crafted universe, and at least some three-dimensional characters. We came to expect the series to follow the conventions of good storytelling (which DO exist, by the way -- it's not all about each person's subjective experience).

I personally believe -- this is just my opinion and is not a criticism of players but of the gaming industry -- that those who didn't mind or liked the ending are just exhibiting the behavior we've all been expected by the industry to display. We've all been conditioned to accept narrative mediocrity. We're not to mind dropping out of the story and taking on the role of writer when a game's writers fail. Better, in fact, if we forget that it even matters. Best if we actually begin to enjoy playing that role.

I see what you're saying. For me, the choices at the ending felt reminiscent of many other choices I had made. I never really questioned the script. I made decisions based on the information that was presented to me. I made these decisions to advance the storyline. If the script did not indicate a character was lying, I accepted that that character was telling the truth.

I don't feel comfortable placing objective standards on storytelling. Mass Effect could be criticized as using stale, archetypal characters to advance a convoluted plot that is overly reliant on the established tropes of the genre. It's really hard for me to say that a matter of taste can be objectively defended. For all intents and purposes though, Mass Effect 3 is a conventional storyline, that does not grossly violate any of those cardinal rules people impose on the narrative structure.

And I guess I do take offense to the idea that, in order to accept the ending, I must be permissive of mediocrity. It's possible my standards are too low, I guess. I like interesting subjects, and I like to be challenged as a viewer or reader. If nothing else, I still genuinely enjoy being entertained.