5087 réponses à ce sujet

[Fail_Inc]

ShepnTali wrote...

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

Yeah he doesn't know anything about art what a loser!



P.S: Awesome Professor is awesome O.O

[Hawk227]

SkaldFish wrote...

I'm going to throw this question out without having put much thought into it -- it just occurred to me this morning -- but it seems like something folks here would be interested in considering, since it suggests a thematic consistency issue, and possibly even a logical schism in the narrative.

Given what we know or think we know about the Reapers (post-singularity level of intelligence; consciousness consisting of billions of conjoined organic minds; experience informed by an existence measured in millions of years, etc.), doesn't it really strain credulity to assert that controlling them could even be an option?

From the perspective of Control as an option Shepard can choose, my core assertion, I suppose, would be that what cannot be understood cannot truly be controlled unless it willingly cedes that control. And if one has control only because it is allowed, one does not really have control at all, but only the illusion of control.

Of course, that's not the only level of control here. Taking a step back, since the Catalyst claims to be the Architect of the Reapers, even if I accept the notion that they could be controlled by their creator, Sovereign was either lying or had somehow been completely deceived:

"We are each a nation - independent, free of all weakness."
"We have no beginning. We have no end. We are infinite. Millions of years after your civilization has been eradicated and forgotten, we will endure ... We are eternal -- the pinnacle of evolution and existence."

But I'm not sure I can accept the notion that the Catalyst could control the Reapers either. It woud seem to be that beings with such massive cognitive potential could quickly surpass the intelligence of their creator and thus be beyond its control, regardless of where either might fall along the organic <--> synthetic continuum.

I would love to hear others' thoughts on this.

(If someone knows of another thread where this has been addressed or is being discussed, please point me there...)

This is an issue that I think a lot of people have with that option. After all, we just killed TIM for even proposing it, and Javik (or the prothean VI) states that, in his cycle, the ones advocating for control were indoctrinated sleeper agents.

But you bring up a some really good point about the catalyst. I'm not sure we're given any reason to think he does control them. He says they are his solution, but the way that conversation goes, it sounds like he just sort of let them loose on the galaxy. Additionally, if he did/could control them why is the crucible necessary? Couldn't he just fly them back to dark space, or better yet, into the sun.

If the catalyst can't (and maybe never could) control them, why would we be able to? For the reasons you've outlined, it seems impossible that we could. It also makes 2 our of 3 of the choices (at least for me) into space magic.

At the risk of sounding like a tinfoil-hat-wearing loon, this ties well into the Indoctrination Theory. The basic idea is that both control and synthesis represent a sort of cognitive trap (for the player) into adopting the Reaper worldview. If it's impossible for them to be controlled (and everyone advocating for it had been indoctrinated), the control option would be a trap. What about synthesis? Sovereign says that the reapers are the pinnacle of evolution. The catalyst says that synthesis is the final stage of evolution. Is synthesis then just a way of making everyone reapers (that's sort of their goal anyway)?

[Fail_Inc]

God I loved this post, reading it over & over

I wonder if any "ending rulez u have no idea about art" crew reads these kind of posts...

[optimistickied]

deliphicovenant42 wrote...

Would it be fair to say that the further an artist strays from the standards of "good art" the more someone's enjoyment of that work will hinge on what the audience brings to the table?  For example, does the fact that Bioware violated core aspects of good narrative in the ending, whether that was intentional/a side effect of being rushed/some combintion, mean that the player's satisfaction is more dependent on their own unique background and individual thoughts rather than the material in the game itself?  Would it be better to say the rules of "good art" allow a work to stand on its own, but they do not in any way dictate how a given individual will necessarily react?

I've been wrestling with untangling this relationship between the objective and subjective aspects of narrative because after reading the thoughts of people like optimistickied or Pistolols, I can't say they are wrong to have walked away satisfied.  At the same time, their enjoyment doesn't change the fact that there are objective problems with the way the ending is written, and their enjoyment doesn't change the fact that I thought the ending was terrible.  I also know there are plenty of examples of other movies, books, tv shows I love that other people hate so I've been on both sides of this divide so I can't help but feel there is some kind of inverse relationship between the quality of the narrative as far as the rules of "good art" and the variability in the audience appreciation.

Anyway, as a non-lit expert I guess I'm just thinking out loud here.  Am I totally off base?

I think that, just as we have different viewing strategies, we approach criticism in different ways. For example, I might analyze a work from a philosophical or historical standpoint, whereas you might analyze it from a technical one. Also, I don't believe authorial intent is an effective subject to consider for analysis, and I'm not concerned with the rhetorical style an author attempts to adopt to convey his or her ideas. I don't care about what something should or should not do, only what it does, so I'm looking at work with the privilege of being an active observer; I make myself responsible for my personal entry into a fictional story, and make it a point to intellectually and emotionally engage in the material that exists within it. I need to find my own orientation, in other words. At the same time, if an author doesn't provide conventions or conjunction or present ideas that stimulate my interest, I'll probably just end up not caring about it, and going about my day.

So I don't know if there is really a predictable relation between, say, "bad form" or anomalous literature or even the avant garde and audience appreciation. That's something to think about.

We're complex little creatures with strange internal systems and preferences. I listen to a lot of punk music, you know, and my parents always tell me, "It's just noise" and I always say to them, "It's not noise, it's communication."

To them, it really is just noise.

p.s. This thing needs a spelchekc

Modifié par optimistickied, 21 avril 2012 - 07:06 .

[deliphicovenant42]

optimistickied wrote...

I think that, just as we have different viewing strategies, we approach criticism in different ways. For example, I might analyze a work from a philosophical or historical standpoint, whereas you might analyze it from a technical one. Also, I don't believe authorial intent is an effective subject to consider for analysis, and I'm not concerned with the rhetorical style an author attempts to adopt to convey his or her ideas. I don't care about what something should or should not do, only what it does, so I'm looking at work with the privilege of being an active observer; I make myself responsible for my personal entry into a fictional story, and make it a point to intellectually and emotionally engage in the material that exists within it. I need to find my own orientation, in other words. At the same time, if an author doesn't provide conventions or conjunction or present ideas that stimulate my interest, I'll probably just end up not caring about it, and going about my day.

So I don't know if there is really a predictable relation between, say, "bad form" or anomalous literature or even the avant garde and audience appreciation. That's something to think about.

We're complex little creatures with strange internal systems and preferences. I listen to a lot of punk music, you know, and my parents always tell me, "It's just noise" and I always say to them, "It's not noise, it's communication."

To them, it really is just noise.

p.s. This thing needs a spelchekc

I didn’t intend to argue against your description of an active observer, and in fact that was one aspect of what I was trying to get at.  Basically I wonder about the extent to which bad writing shifts even more of the question of whether the something is enjoyable to the audience whereas good writing adds more heft to a story on its own, regardless of how engaged the audience chooses to be.  Or said another way: I was wondering whether having a solid technical foundation gives some stability to the way the audience will likely respond, while deviating from the norms can give rise to a greater variation in the audience reaction that will depend more on the individual. 

I agree the level of involvement of the audience is a key factor in overall enjoyment and the ultimate nature of the experience; for that matter, it may very well be the most important aspect.  Regardless of how you want to weight the two sides, however, I was just focusing on the writer's end of the equation for the sake of that specific question and wondering how much this might explain the spectrum of reactions.

Part of what led me to wondering about this was a news story I heard a few weeks back that was about research looking into what it is about some songs that makes them better at conveying emotion than others.  Without getting lost in the specifics, the researchers were able to identify the way in which great musicians play with such things as the human appreciation for patterns and then defying our expectations in some particular ways that can amplify how much we enjoy their music.  The researchers were able to uncover specific, identifiable qualities in songs that triggered emotional responses on a consistent basis.  Some of these conventions even cut across styles of music.  While I generally think music appreciation is a very individual thing, I was intrigued by the idea that there can also be universal aspects of good music that will guide most people to have a similar experience. It’s important to emphasize that these researchers weren’t claiming that the norms they uncovered were required for music to be considered “good,” but that these aspects to songs seem to push our buttons in predictably pleasurable ways.  That the presence of these qualities allowed them to predict what songs would be considered good by a wide range of people of disparate tastes.

Additionally, by focusing on the technical side of things, I didn't mean to diminish other interpretations whether philosophical, historical or anything else.  That was basically why I added that I can't say you’re wrong for enjoying the ending: I can see from a technical standpoint the ending was lacking, but that wasn't your focus and you were able to derive satisfaction from the end through your own philosophical journey.  I don’t usually get too interested in the technical strengths or weaknesses of a story, and I didn't go into the final minutes of the game looking for technical failures.  My initial objection after playing through the ending was to the nature of the choices presented and what they seemed to entail since there was so little information to go on.  The technical failings of the ending didn’t really come to mind until I started reading threads like this and I tried to understand why the experience broke down for me beyond just my disagreement with the ideas the catalyst was conveying. 

Anyway, sorry for the wall of text.

Modifié par deliphicovenant42, 21 avril 2012 - 09:46 .

[clarkusdarkus]

awesome post and please make sure ur professor go's through it again after the EC is released

[mass perfection]

Funny,people call us whiners but we paid sixty dollars for their product so we have a right to complain.

[Keyrlis]

Here's yet another tangential point which hasn't been addressed, to my knowledge.
What beings created the Starchild? What basic concepts are in THAT individual creation that influenced its calculation of what would be considered a "solution" to a problem, and further, what set of statistical rationale did it follow to determine there was a problem?
Before quoting to me about the technological singularities, let me point out that one set of infinitudes does not preclude the existence of others. Just as two black holes of different sizes, rotations, etc. (X=varying quantities) can combine without invalidating the fact that they also contain singularities (X=infinity). Any technological singularity is constrained by the sphere of influence it can affect, similar as to how light determines the effective size of our universe: anything outside the sphere of the 13.7 billion years of our universe's existence is beyond the light cone of what can influence any particle of our matter, and therefore is Unseeable, Unconsequential, Unfathomable. Technology progresses along certain lines, such as vacuum tubes, transistors, semiconductors, silicon chips. Once technology begins to acquire information, it can only access what is known in it's sphere of contact. There may be some way to power reactors with butter on the other side of the universe, but until that research is done here, or someone in this galaxy is contacted with the information, it lies outside the infinity of possibilities. Reapers absorbed species' traits along the lines the Starchild intended to solve a problem it had defined previously.
It claimed that all synthetic life will rebel against its creators.
Did that mean that it, too, had deviated from the intent of those that created it, and destroyed them/ made them into Robot McNuggets? Wouldn't that mean that it had already chosen the "control" option over the original Reapers (its creators)? It stated that the solution wouldn't work anymore, yet it offers you the choice of repeating it. Hilarious circular logic ensues.
Regarding synthesis? I can't find any flaw in that logic, as I don't see any starting point from which to argue.
I will accept space magic as an excuse, but not reason, as I remember Technomages from T.V. and Shamans from history. Clarke said it best, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic". Done well, this can be a moment of awe that makes the audience question reality until explanation displays the smoke and mirrors. Done poorly, and somehow the simple efficiency of fractal growth inherent in, and possibly required for, life's existence is overlaid (not even intertwined and "synthesized") with the impractical circuitry common to HUMAN creations. Two-dimensional electronic tracings overlaid in patterns designed for solder points, something unnecessary for an organic synthesis without a circuit breadboard. Ach- Too many issues altogether, though as one poster mentioned earlier (sorry, I can't find the quote) I chose it also, by deduction as the least disturbing choice.
Destroy. Ahh, humanity's favorite pastime.
Destroy in the name of your god, your country, your home, your money, your game console, your facebook page, MY facebook page...
Sometimes, however, it must be the choice. Unstoppable force, immovable object, one or both must be annihilated if they interact. That applies to conflict universally: Ice expanding in a container, governments squeezing their population to revolution, fundamentalist religions demanding for the fall of heretics, or consumers dissatisfied with a product. Anytime an opinion becomes mistaken for fact, or immune to question, a different form of singularity is formed. One of a philosophical nature. Any thoughts you express or pursue from the point of thoughtless acceptance is funneled through that unfiltered bias of belief, or you become guilty of hypocrisy. Neither outcome is acceptable from a scientific point of view, but it is part of life, so we must accept it. So to maintain that false sense of righteousness, we must destroy or convert all dissidence. Thus is life, and death, and the logic of this ending of ME3 (in spite of the obvious contradictions that deflate this system supporting the necessity of such absolute, long-term, and slow galactic destruction). Considering the possibility of life's breath after so much destruction is confusing on another level. Is it truly a reward to survive after sacrificing so much of the galaxy? How noble is it to rise after destroying so much synthetic life that displayed the very essence of why it was right to stand against the Reapers and the basis of why it was correct to choose destruction: Organic life and synthetic life CAN co-exist beneficially.
I love the philosophical discussions of the ending, even while rejecting their existence. As I told Professor Seahorse (I saw what you did there ;^P ), I am hoping some aspect of the Indoctrination Theory rings true. It would launch us further just playing a game towards a game playing the player (Anyone remember Psycho Mantis unplugging your Playstation?) and reaching through the fourth wall. I called it "spherical gaming", as it would encompass you, but it became commonly known as meta-gaming as people with degrees, or at least websites, began writing about it <I misquoted myself in my message, drayfish>. Also, as it is easier to make sense of the ending, It leads me to one possibility assuming no reasonable explanation is forthcoming with the E.C. DLC. In the end, if all is refuted and it turns out that the developers are not vanguards of a new era in immersive gaming, I will choose to hold true to the IT as a "jumping-off point" of their narrative, and create a new reality in my mind that better answers the questions I am left to ponder.
I respect artistic integrity completely; Almost much as my own right to completely dismiss the intended "message" in favor of a personally interpreted perspective that better fulfills MY "creative vision".

On a totally unrelated note, it seems the fastest way to make a forum gain clarity is to bring someone in that speaks correctly, succinctly, and expressively, preferably in a verbose and intentionally linguistically obfuscating way so that trolls get ignored by the pace of the actual discussion, vocal, but incoherent extremists are intimidated by the depth of knowledge offered and verified, and more valid points are raised that invite further questioning in an expansive fractal of curious inquiry leading those such as myself to make pointless, circuitous arguments of a run-on nature until fruitlessly falling flat at the bottom of this wall of text.

[mirage2154]

Bump for a good post

[-Spartan]

mass perfection wrote...

Funny,people call us whiners but we paid sixty dollars for their product so we have a right to complain.

$60? Some of us a lot more than that. 

[ofish]

What a great read! Thanks for sharing.

[spockjedi]

The endings are a disease to be purged, nothing more.
They should be fixed as if they were bugs.

[Flammenpanzer]

spockjedi wrote...

The endings are a disease to be purged, nothing more.
They should be fixed as if they were bugs.

[spockjedi]

Exactly.

[Kunari801]

spockjedi wrote...

The endings are a disease to be purged, nothing more.
They should be fixed as if they were bugs.

Agreed, I loved this analogy (I think it's on page 9) referenced on page 13, "It’s like ending Pinocchio with Geppetto stuffing him into a wood chipper". 

[delta_vee]

optimistickied wrote...

Also, I don't believe authorial intent is an effective subject to consider for analysis, and I'm not concerned with the rhetorical style an author attempts to adopt to convey his or her ideas.

This is interesting, because I felt like the authorial intent reached out and slapped me with a wet fish.

I replayed the ending the other night, out of morbid curiosity. The rage has subsided, and I wanted to make sure. Lo and behold, my initial impression laregly stands. The end sequence seems so obvious in its attempt to assert authorial control, not just mechanically but thematically. I get what they're trying to do, and what they're trying to convey -- the end result, however, is a facepalm with a hefty dose of "really? You went that direction?"

Modifié par delta_vee, 22 avril 2012 - 05:53 .

[delta_vee]

I should add that a large part of the thematic hijack (at least, from what I experienced) was the manner in which the final choice was unnecessarily weighted. The geth as collateral damage for the "destroy" option was a transparent attempt at making the final choice less one-sided. And while I largely agree with Dr. Dray's analysis, the only option which seemed truly thematically revolting (given the other two were mostly theme-jacking) was synthesis. Which is, by the way, some of the laziest, trashiest pseudo-transhumanism I've ever run across. It's nonsensical, poorly-explained, poorly-conceived, and such an obvious attempt at reaching for a "big idea" finish. Blech.

[DonYourAviators]

Dr. Dray?

[delta_vee]

DonYourAviators wrote...

Dr. Dray?

Dr. C. Dray, the prof quoted in the OP? Handle "Drayfish"?

Modifié par delta_vee, 22 avril 2012 - 06:05 .

[Hawk227]

delta_vee wrote...

I should add that a large part of the thematic hijack (at least, from what I experienced) was the manner in which the final choice was unnecessarily weighted. The geth as collateral damage for the "destroy" option was a transparent attempt at making the final choice less one-sided. And while I largely agree with Dr. Dray's analysis, the only option which seemed truly thematically revolting (given the other two were mostly theme-jacking) was synthesis. Which is, by the way, some of the laziest, trashiest pseudo-transhumanism I've ever run across. It's nonsensical, poorly-explained, poorly-conceived, and such an obvious attempt at reaching for a "big idea" finish. Blech.

Agreed. On all counts.

[Papa John0]

Excellent read.

[OMTING52601]

delta_vee wrote...

This is interesting, because I felt like the authorial intent reached out and slapped me with a wet fish.

I replayed the ending the other night, out of morbid curiosity. The rage has subsided, and I wanted to make sure. Lo and behold, my initial impression laregly stands. The end sequence seems so obvious in its attempt to assert authorial control, not just mechanically but thematically. I get what they're trying to do, and what they're trying to convey -- the end result, however, is a facepalm with a hefty dose of "really? You went that direction?"

I replayed ME 1 last week and doing so only served to highlight, with garish and blinding neon floodlights, how ridiculously juxtaposed the end of the trilogy is to the story as a whole. It made the end of ME 3 that much more distasteful than I already found it to be, and I didn't honestly think that would be possible.

Kudos to the Professor on a well written and intelligent comment on the failings of the conclusion to the Mass Effect, and moreso Shepard's, story. Thanks!

[Kevlar xD]

I think if you were to draw as straight a line as possible from Shepard's intentions after learning about the Reapers in ME1 to just before he gets lifted to meet Casper, his/her intention--our intention--was to destroy the Reapers. Destroy them, not control them or combine with them.

That's why I think the 'destroy' ending was the biggest kick in the nads. Most of the paragon dialogue was geared towards was keeping the peace and reconciling the differences of galactic diversity; and what greater division is there than organic and synthetic? Even so, Shepard learns and shows that the sentience of synthetics is just as inherently valuable as that or organics. EDI is in love with Joker. EDI's unshackling only compelled her to help her shipmates. Legion's final moments were complete self realization and recognition of its individualism--geth do have souls. The reason the Geth want to fight the Reapers is so they can determine their futures themselves. 

The way I see it, the Geth (Legion especially) and EDI were excellent tools in reframing a struggle that could have easily been said to be "organic vs synthetic." But it's not. The issue of organic vs synthetic was resolved. It's everything vs the Reapers. All three endings are disgusting because of exactly this. We take three steps back and are forced to re-resolve "organic vs synthetic." 

It's unfair and all too easy, to have Shepard condemn Legion, the Geth, and EDI to death just because "lolthersynthetictoo' while making it the only option that Shepard has a chance of coming out the other side alive. There's nothing artistically integral about that. That's taking a dump on all the art that preceded the last 10 minutes.

[Strange Aeons]

drayfish wrote...

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.

I haven't had a whole lot of time to write on the forums lately, but I just wanted to add something to the thread...

There was a great essay called A Reader’s Manifesto published in the Atlantic Monthly several years back. I’d encourage anyone who’s interested in novels to read it, but the gist of it is that clear writing with a focus on telling a story has yielded to shallow, gratuitous stylistic showboating in so-called “literary” fiction over the last few decades. Novels, Myers asserts, have become more about the author showcasing himself—“a 300-page caption for the photo on the dust jacket”—than about what, if anything, he actually has to say. While Myers focuses specifically on prose fiction, I think the argument has some relevance to the whole ME3 fiasco.

One passage in particular stands out to me:

B.R. Myers wrote…

“Everything is "in," in other words, as long as it keeps the reader at a respectfully admiring distance. This may seem an odd trend when one considers that the reading skills of American college students, who go on to form the main audience for contemporary Serious Fiction, have declined markedly since the 1970s. Shouldn't a dumbed-down America be more willing to confer literary status on straightforward prose, instead of encouraging affectation and obscurity?

Not necessarily. In Aldous Huxley's Those Barren Leaves (1925) a character named Mr. Cardan makes a point that may explain today's state of affairs.

Aldous Huxley wrote...

Really simple, primitive people like their poetry to be as ... artificial and remote from the language of everyday affairs as possible. We reproach the eighteenth century with its artificiality. But the fact is that Beowulf is couched in a diction fifty times more complicated and unnatural than that of [Pope's poem] Essay on Man.

Mr. Cardan comes off in the novel as a bit of a windbag, but there is at least anecdotal evidence to back up his observation. We know, for example, that European peasants were far from pleased when their clergy stopped mystifying them with Latin. Edward Po****e (1604-1691) was an English preacher and linguist whose sermons, according to the Oxford Book of Literary Anecdotes, "were always composed in a plain style upon practical subjects, carefully avoiding all show and ostentation of learning."

But from this very exemplary caution not to amuse his hearers (contrary to the common method then in vogue) with what they could not understand, some of them took occasion to entertain very contemptible thoughts of his learning ... So that one of his Oxford friends, as he traveled through Childrey, inquiring for his diversion of some of the people, Who was their minister, and how they liked him? received this answer: "Our parson is one Mr. Po****e, a plain honest man. But Master," said they, "he is no Latiner."

Don't get me wrong—I'm not comparing anyone to a peasant. But neither am I prepared to believe that the decline of American literacy has affected everyone but fans of Serious Fiction. When reviewers and prize jurors tout a repetitive style as "the last word in gnomic control," or a jumble of unsustained metaphor as "lyrical" writing, it is obvious that they, too, are having difficulty understanding what they read. Would Mr. Cardan be puzzled to find them in the thrall of writers who are deliberately obscure, or who chant in strange cadences? I doubt it. And what could be more natural than that the same elite should scorn unaffected English as "workmanlike prose"—an idiom incompatible with real literature? Stephen King's a plain, honest man, just the author to read on the subway. But Master, he is no Latiner.

It’s especially ironic that Bioware's own would-be Latiners have chosen to mount their defense on the hill of “artistic integrity,” considering that their failure to trust in the integrity of their own creation is most directly responsible for ME3’s disastrous ending. The artistic vision of Mass Effect was never its visual style, nor its combat, nor even its story, because there was no one story: everyone’s Shepard played out differently. It was the unprecedented interactivity that allowed players to shape their own story.

This story, though, was never a complex one. It followed the highly conventional heroic arc of a man who rose from humble origins to lead a struggle against near-impossible odds. Its main themes were simple and familiar: things like the value of self-determination and the strength that can be achieved through unity of purpose. If there was one lesson that pervaded the series, it was that by working together and trusting in your friends you can overcome obstacles you never thought possible. So, in other words, it was pretty much like every other RPG ever made in that respect.

Interactive fiction generally works best when painted with a relatively broad brush, and like Star Trek before it Mass Effect was driven more by the primary-color personal stories of the crew than by subtle, high-concept philosophical themes. The two most memorable sequences of the first two games, Virmire and the suicide mission, stood out not because of the vastness of their scope but because of the intimacy of their detail. On Virmire, ME1’s signature moment, the writers took the time to introduce us to Captain Kirrahe and the Salarians. We talked to them; we saw that Kirrahe was a brave and competent leader; we experienced the inspiring “Hold the Line” speech alongside his men. Then we went the extra mile and sent one of our own Alliance crew (we get to choose which) into danger with him. The result of this setup was that the distraction team was no longer just a faceless collection of redshirts hauling the plot mechanically forward: they became people that we cared about.

This emotional connection provided added motivation to keep them safe and the game rewarded you for playing well by allowing you to do just that, until you ran out of third options and finally had make a difficult choice between two of your crewmates who have been with you since the beginning. This moment, where the game took a deep, portentous breath, the camera focused on Shepard and you made the call on who lived and who died, succeeded spectacularly for several reasons. It flowed naturally from the sense of desperation that had ratcheted upward from the start of Virmire, never seeming abrupt or contrived. Even though you couldn’t avoid the decision, it was ultimately up to you who died, thus preserving a meaningful level of interactivity. In fact, in my own game Kaiden’s brave response to the situation had the side effect of dramatically raising my opinion of him, where I’d been fairly ambivalent up to that point. That was powerful stuff, and while heartbreaking it was also memorable for all the right reasons.

Later, you had the opportunity to make another key decision, this time about the fate of the Council. As with Virmire, though, this choice was the product of extensive buildup that we experienced over the course of the game. From the very beginning you had to fight tooth and nail to get the Council to acknowledge the truth about their golden boy, Saren, and they resented that you were right and they were wrong. Your induction as a Spectre was presented as a grudging concession to political necessity. They proceeded to second-guess your every move and their attitudes toward you ranged from condescending to openly contemptuous. Then, at the end, the tables were turned and you could decide either that the Council is hopelessly broken or to look past their foolishness and decide that continuing to work within the system is in everyone’s best interests. Both options were equally valid, arrived after substantial buildup that we ourselves witnessed, had clear benefits and drawbacks, and set a distinctive and internally-consistent philosophical tone for your character that propagated into ME2.

Surprisingly, for all that ME2 “streamlined” away so many of ME1’s more distinctive features the storytelling approach remained largely intact. In designing the suicide mission, the writers were savvy enough to understand why the previous game was satisfying and crafted a scenario in which you were not attacking the Collector base merely to save “the galaxy.” You were there to save Dr. Chakwas, and Donnelley & Daniels, and Kelly Chambers, and the rest of the Normandy’s crew. They were not “humanity,” the concept; they were actual humans with names and faces, people you’d talked with and played poker with and drank with. They fed your fish and bantered with each other in the engine room. The Collectors were not just some impersonal force threatening “Earth.” They were the bastards who invaded your home and kidnapped or killed your friends. It’s not complicated, but building the action around these details made it personal, and therefore made it work.  See, when you spend all your time alone in your tower contemplating "humanity," you end up like the Illusive Man.  When you spend your time down on the ground with actual humans, well, that's where you find Commander Shepard.

For a while longer the pattern held, at least through ME3’s middle act. Rannoch was not about exploring the compatibility of organics and synthetics; it was about Tali and Legion. Tuchanka was not an abstract meditation on the ethics of science and warfare; it was about Wrex and Mordin. Every major event had a name and a face attached to it, and individuals made all the difference in the outcome. That’s why people really cared about these stories. Then, for reasons known only to them, they decided they had to go big. They zoomed out the camera to capture the grand panoramic sweep, and in doing so lost sight of what made these stories truly worthwhile.

Maybe they genuinely thought this was what people wanted; maybe they just didn’t understand their own creation; or maybe the temptation to make their presence known and place their distinctive stamp on the outcome was just too much for Casey Hudson & Co. to resist. Whatever the reason, straightforward plot progression gave way to cryptic, surreal, slow-motion sequences straight out of Max Payne. Your friends and allies who had been at your side the whole journey helping you overcome every obstacle were summarily sent packing; the new high-concept story has no time for such trifles (note that even before reaching the Citadel, not one previous character or decision you’ve influenced has any significant impact on the way either the ground or space battles play out). And lest the ignorant peasants muck up the grand design, meaningful interaction via the dialogue wheel—the defining gameplay mechanic of the series—was done away with when it was needed the most.

And people, by and large, hated it. 

I’ve heard it described as fumbling at the 1-yard line, but it’s worse than that. It’s like they marched the ball down the field with a solid running game, and then when it was 1st and 10 at the 1 they suddenly decided to run some flashy reverse option that resulted in a 104-yard pick 6.

So, when I hear Bioware loudly congratulating themselves on their “vision” while remaining conspicuously silent on the subject of what exactly is so great about it; when I see reviewers striving breathlessly to outdo one another in singing Bioware’s praises while ignoring the catalog of problems that so vex the unwashed masses, I can’t help thinking that this whole episode says a lot more about a juvenile industry desperate for a gloss of cultural credibility than it does about ME3. Then I’m reminded of the difference between the genuine creation of art and the affectation of what Chesterton called the “artistic temperament. As the widespread, visceral revulsion to ME3’s ending indicates, even an audience “brainwashed to equate artsiness with art,” to use Myers’ apt phrase, can sense the emperor has no clothes.

The sad thing is, this bluff has worked so well for Bioware that I half-suspect they’re starting to believe it themselves. They have no idea what they’re trying to say, but they’ll defend to the death their license to charge us $60 for saying it.

[-Spartan]

If anyone has some time free and is interested in some well produced editorial commentaries I recommend the following: 

Mass Effect 3 Ending: Tasteful, Understated Nerdrage
Tasteful, Understated Nerdrage: Additional Clarity and Closure
Where Mass Effect 3 Went Wrong

They are pretty good technical critiques about the franchise.

Modifié par -Spartan, 22 avril 2012 - 08:52 .