“The Ending is a very delicate time,”
this is something that Frank Herbert could have said, if he had played ME3.
When I think of the endings controversy, I am inevitably reminded of how so many factors contributed to its failure; how the sum become more than the parts; each factor of failure adding to the disappointment and frustration of this or that player, to the point it resulted into a perfect storm: a multitude of gamers, often with markedly distinct preferences, expressing their disappointment in a previously unheard scale.
I don’t bring an original approach to the table. In fact, I suspect, there is little in the following wall of text that hasn’t been written ad nauseam, a voice in the chorus. But that was not my goal, either; I am simply trying to give form to some of my own thoughts on the matter: an exercise in catharsis.
If this was victory, why does it feel just like defeat?
Such were my thoughts after playing ME3. When I first played the ending, two things immediately felt extremely odd: the lack of logic of the catalyst’s arguments, and the lack of argumentation against, from Shepard. The EC improved this, but didn’t completely correct it, far from it. The Catalyst argumentation is still illogical and, while Shepard can now argue against it, it is too little and too feeble.
When I watch Shepard’s last confrontation, it just doesn’t feel like if an actual conflict is going on. The Catalyst is in control, holding all the cards, and Shepard is somehow aware of this. She is resigned to a submissive role, accepting whatever the catalyst is willing to offer, without more than faint protests, at best. The question is, why?
Whatever the reason, the logic of the catalyst’s arguments was built upon extremely thin ice, but still the game appears to assume that Shepard would inevitably agree with this logic; either by passive capitulation, or grudgingly resignation. There is no way to argue against the holes in the catalyst logic and, at best, Shepard may make a tangent about reapers waging war, to immediately concede implicit defeat, by not even pointing how irrelevant is the catalyst contra-argument is.
At this point, some may argue that it would be irrelevant for Shepard to express her views. The catalyst would not accept her arguments, anyway. But I think this misses the point:
It is not just about winning the argument, it is also about staying true to the character we were playing.
Like many others, I suspect the authors envisioned the catalyst like an amoral god figure, which provided the player with the information about what the reapers goals were, and how to achieve Shepard’s own goals. Hence the symbolic elevator scene and, perhaps, also why Shepard acts with a completely out of character meekness: The catalyst wasn’t supposed to be an antagonist. However, due to his role in the creation of the reapers to further his own plans, the catalyst becomes necessarily the last of Shepard’s adversaries.
Apparently, the conflict between the catalyst’s intended role as an information provider and his apparently unintended role as the enemy may be an accident. It is just that, due to who he is, he is not simply explaining facts; he is implicitly, and explicitly, justifying his actions. Here is where Shepard’s passivity becomes uncomfortable for the player, as the character offers no option to refute his arguments. Being forced to implicitly accept the catalyst argument by her inaction, Shepard feels defeated in spirit, resulting in the player’s frustration.
But it gets worse. Then the Catalyst offers his choices. And because the catalyst is the one proposing them, whatever victory Shepard may achieve feels tainted.
The problem of the unreliable informer
The catalyst, as the main enemy, is necessarily unreliable. How to trust someone like him? Especially while he offers no proof that things will happen like he says. The only way to solve this seems to be by metagaming, something that many gamers do not enjoy.
That which you conquer vs. that which you’re granted
What is the most rewarding? What you conquer by your own efforts or what you are allowed to do by an apparently all powerful godling?(that apparently still can proceed with his original plans if Shepard doesn’t take what he offers). My answer would be the former, as the later lessens significantly the feeling of achievement. It is like winning a match in some sport because your opponent quit the field. It is technically a victory, but feels hollow.
Note that it doesn’t even have to be actually granted. If anything, it likely was intended to be understood that catalyst had no option anyway but to comply, but all it takes is reasonable doubt to poison the feel of victory. And if the unreliability of the catalyst wasn’t enough, the “so be it,” does the rest. Like Caesar’s wife, Victory must not only be honest, it must look so.
The Nature of a Man, (or a Woman)
The three choices; they all have uncomfortable side effects. That was intended and, in theory, it was a good idea, and even a necessary one; a way to measure the nature of our Shepard. The problem is that, for many of us, the costs were far too high.
The point of the cost was to make the decision difficult for the player, so that she can later enjoy and value more what she achieved by doing it. If however, the cost goes beyond of what the player feels comfortable to sacrifice, then it ruins its purpose, as the intended reward now brings no satisfaction. As they are, many seem to feel that the current costs require not only a sacrifice of Shepard’s life but also of her soul, as what is required of her is monstrous. Even Refusal is so flawed.
Of survival and sacrifice
Shepard’s survival was a powerful motivator for many, and also the ultimate cost they were willing to pay to achieve victory. But the sacrifice was – arguably – clumsily implemented and feels contrived.
If Sacrifice is the ultimate price, it must feel noble and fitting, not something that is there just “because Shepard must die.” Especially after all that the player was already asked to abdicate of her character.
But there is still another, big problem, with Survival:
After the prior failure of the endings at several levels; I suspect many a player found, like me, the need to look for some form of satisfying closure. The player was already required to sacrifice Shepard’s previously unconquerable spirit, and then her character’s soul, and all for what?
A victory that felt hollow.
But at least, we still would have Shepard’s life, right? After all, life is a chance of healing, a way to end Shepard’s trials with hope. And in keeping hope, there is victory.
Wrong.
It is true that Bioware strongly suggests that, in one case, Shepard may survive. But they never fully commit with that possibility. Suddenly, after going out of the way to show, (and not just suggest), how perfect synthesis is, in Destroy it is like they were embarrassed to even show Shepard’s face during her last gasp. Why?
Games are imminently a visual medium. I don’t believe, for a second, that the authors would forget this. So they likely felt they needed to keep this one ambivalent. And as a result, far less satisfying that it could have been. Again, why?
Possibly as a mean to balance it with the other choices, that they may have believed to be far less appealing for many. But if so, I believe it was the wrong approach:
Either those players felt control or synthesis had appeal, or they didn't. But if they didn’t, no manner of downgrading the appeal of destroy would make the others more appealing. At best they would look equally unappealing. Instead of balancing the endings, they just closed more one door for the players, which now find yet another possibly satisfying resolution to Shepard’s trials (mostly) closed.
And so my rant ends.
Note: Edited for clarity (the irony)
Modifié par vallore, 09 juillet 2012 - 10:13 .
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