(Often, early game reviews give bad games too much credit; diamonds in the rough, too little. We’ll try to look at deserving games with that perspective whenever possible. Hindsight + games = hindsnipe.)
Grand Theft Auto IV turns its subtitles off by default, except when translating foreign dialogue. In the game, you control a guy from an unnamed Balkan/Slavic/Russian zone, but since this is set in fictional New York City, he and his immigrant friends/foes don’t drop into their mother tongue all that often.
That is, except when they feel like calling someone a faggot. The word comes up surprisingly often when referring to openly gay character Bernie Crane, but the kicker is, they stick to their own language for the slur. It’s a weird move, handling the word with the thin veil of subtitles. The game pushes pretty much every other verbal and stereotypical boundary, particularly with the Bernie character, an embarrassing mess of gay stereotypes already (lisp, enunciation, posters of naked men covering his walls, squeals, hand gestures, wimpiness, and on and on). Rockstar North, the game’s makers, may as well have rendered the word “faggot” on the character’s virtual forehead as a twisted tech demo.
No point in making the case that the game is insensitive; I just ran over a hooker. But it’s worth noting that GTA IV is painfully indecisive about whether it wants to be a satire, examination, or celebration of crime–and it’s the lack of brazen consistency that does the game in. Not so bad at first; the war-torn Niko Bellic is essentially forced into Liberty City’s criminal underbelly to save his dolt of a cousin from mob debt collectors. And he goes about this in a gradual manner best suited for the stretched length of a video game. For example, Niko befriends a likable pot dealer early on, a guy who gets tough but generally is defensive, not aggressive, about his turf. Good character–hardened, yet believable–and his contrast with Niko wears well on both characters. The push-and-pull of survival versus morality, all mixed with such likable crime peers, is a central point in the game’s early goings, and the stress on conversational friendships makes this palpable, particularly in the well-written exchanges between the main cousins.
I’m not so stuck on plot in games–usually prefer to just play the damn thing, since most games are written and acted so poorly. But in an early review, I couldn’t help but smile on GTA IV’s execution of the plot. You’re running, gunning, driving, and stealing, yet with a fully-formed sense of purpose and internal conflict. That’s a unique base structure to interact with, uncommon in games–making people invest in well-written characters so that they’ll want to play as them because of empathy.
Midway through the game (admittedly, almost six hours in), this dissolves. The last relatively redemptive mission you do is for an egotistical “clean the streets” ruffian, and even this work is solely to rack up your in-game bank account. We’re cash-crazy now? Niko talks about needing to help his cousin with money, but you’re not depositing cash into any accounts. The stash sits idly, and you inexplicably descend into work for Irish and Italian mob families with money as the sole motivation. It’s an out-of-character transition that is only redeemed by game’s end with a revenge plotline. But by this time, Niko’s no longer likable, not even in a “dark hero” way. He’s just a typical, vacuous character, as mindless as Pac-Man.
To be fair, as a game, this is an impressive sandbox to mess around in. GTA IV’s city is as large as it is dense, and if you want to drive around aimlessly, you’ll have no shortage of diverse terrain, satisfying car physics, and even dynamic, news-filled radio broadcasts (more so than any other GTA) to beef up your joyride. Unlike older GTA titles, a sloppy engine doesn’t often get in the way of the story. Here, you have auto-aim guns and physics-heavy driving to make your crime sprees flow smoothly. And the creators deserve credit for attempts to break up the GTA monotony: drive here, pick this up, kill that guy, escape cops, repeat. They’ve been doing this game long enough to know the small touches and tricks to spice the game up even dozens of hours in (though these are the exception, not the rule).
But even what’s done right isn’t timeless material; will only be a year or two before another virtual world springs up and outdoes GTA IV in looks, heft, and realism. Niko Bellic could have been timeless. The opening potential of his story certainly is, and anyone who aspires to meld storytelling with gameplay should study GTA IV’s best moments for years to come. Too many games have been made for game makers to just expect me to want to hammer buttons and make stuff happen on the screen. Give me something personal to relate to, even if it’s just one tangible element in an otherwise outlandish universe.
In that respect, GTA IV got my hopes up. But Niko’s creators bail early, frontloading the best characters and conflicts while letting the rest of the game coast with repetitive missions, stereotypes, and slurs.
No-number summary: $60 gets you a huge sandbox and a lot of repetitive missions with character. The Internet combat modes add some replay, though I haven’t loaded them up in over two months–too cumbersome, unwieldy, and sprawling compared to precise shooting games like Call of Duty 4. In solo play, GTA IV sets the storytelling-in-games bar high. So long as you don’t mind having that bar kicked down like a pissy kid near a T-ball stand, the best moments are worth a long rental. But if you’re expecting greatness as the game stretches into its 20th and 30th hours, you’re giving the game too much credit.
