In this level, I learned how to sculpt spaces with shapes to guide players. I also designed the level to make vantage points rewarding for players looking for either of the two treasures on the map, but most of the playtesters seemed to think they were seeing the treasure by mistake, even though I was perfectly framing the treasure in some iterations for them…
The numbers in the image above correspond to the player’s view in the gallery.
I recently jumped back into a personal favorite: The Last of Us. At its higher difficulties, The Last of Us is pure survival horror, always leaving players with little to no resources, too many enemies to count, and a plethora of options when it comes to enemy encounters. I was immediately flooded with memories of an engaging post-apocalyptic road trip, but first had to complete Naughty Dog’s incredible tutorial level. One striking moment in this tutorial level got me thinking. After you as a player are taught that spores in the air are fatal, both Tess and Joel put on gas masks to prevent themselves from turning into infected members of society. Soon after, the player is given a choice. In the image below, notice two things: an NPC is caught under rubble with a broken face mask, and there is a flashing gun laying on the ground to the left of this trapped character.
After Tess (the companion NPC for the tutorial) asked me what I wanted to do about this situation, I felt torn. I know from the previous encounter that these infected creatures are dangerous, vile, and very scary. I don’t want to deal with them again anytime soon, so I should put this guy out of his misery before he turns and bites my neck flaps off… right? I only have a few bullets left, but there’s more ammo right next to me. But killing this guy is just plain wrong… right?
The choice is yours morally ambiguous player!
“Why am I okay with this choice?” I thought to myself as I held L2 to aim. I pulled R2, then asked, “Master Chief in Halo probably wouldn’t have a similar player choice to murder a helpless marine with the Flood desperately chasing after him… would he?”
Master Chief is one of the most iconic heroes of all time, and he kills things constantly. Heroes like Master Chief fulfill fantasies we’ve all had as kids: saving the world from an unstoppable alien threat. The Last of Us is brilliant in that it attracts players with its simple zombie apocalypse story, but has you stick around for its incredibly complex characters. In The Last of Us you play a grizzled apocalypse survivor with the simple task of taking cargo to a location. The stakes are easy for players to grasp from the beginning, but they get higher and higher as both you and Joel get more and more invested in the “cargo” as the game progresses. From beginning to end, The Last of Us is constantly asking players to make life-or-death decisions. The same ingredients in your crafting tree make either a molotov cocktail or a health kit, for example. Choices like the one pictured above can only be made by a morally ambiguous character which a player can intimately connect with.
Players given similar choices in Halo would almost always decide to save a life, because the fantasy of all the Halo games is simple: space marine that saves the universe from ugly aliens. Who wouldn’t want to save the human race from an invading alien species?
If I’m being honest, however, fantasies with less clear intentions are the reason I am a game designer. Games that ask a player to make difficult choices at every moment of gameplay attract me more than something as “simple” as saving the world.
Characters in other games like Heavy Rain, God of War, or Red Dead Redemption II expose players to difficult choices with one common thread: their characters are not out to save the world. Instead, these characters are protecting someone from the dangers of the rest of the world. Players are exposed to choices that effect the outcome of the character relationships in the game, not the stakes themselves.
![Heavy Rain notoriously asked players if cutting off their finger was worth more information on their son’s kidnapper. [1]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5a2ea8c8017db2454c71d219/1557244268052-C9LTUSPUYQJ4AAC0BD9O/maxresdefault.jpg)
Heavy Rain notoriously asked players if cutting off their finger was worth more information on their son’s kidnapper. [1]
In reality, these choices go deeper than changing the outcome of the game. These choices help players realize just where their priorities lie. I chose to save a man from pain, suffering, and turning into a lifeless zombie in The Last of Us, knowing very well that I would have to use a precious bullet. In Red Dead Redemption II, I choose to be a heartless cowboy to anyone that owes our gang money, because putting food on the table for Dutch and the gang is more important to me. If breaking someone’s face and having the authorities chase me out of town is the only consequence for keeping my family healthy and happy, I'm okay with that.
![Look at all these mouths I have to feed as Arthur in Red Dead Redemption II. [2]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5a2ea8c8017db2454c71d219/1557244588324-CUIMN9PILJ1ZSVP8T78M/Dutch%27s_Gang.jpg)
Look at all these mouths I have to feed as Arthur in Red Dead Redemption II. [2]
It’s no coincidence that three of my favorite games ask players to put family first, because I was raised with the same moral compass. Blood is thicker than water for Joel, Kratos, Arthur, and I, and each of their respective games consistently remind players of the only good in the world being their families. Growing up, every decision my parents made was in the interest of bettering my life. Like two of the most beloved antiheroes of my generation (Joel and Kratos), they made difficult decisions with the intent of bettering their child’s life.
![Kratos and his son Boy are surviving together in God of War (2016). [3]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5a2ea8c8017db2454c71d219/1557244688214-9BRX06IKSJYLQUNVJ00G/God-of-War-Atreus-L.jpg)
Kratos and his son Boy are surviving together in God of War (2016). [3]
![Joel’s new daughter is the only thing that matters to him anymore in The Last of Us. [4]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5a2ea8c8017db2454c71d219/1557244667109-QB8FINUJY3PUAJY5455J/31170-Ellie-dark-dark_hair-The_Last_of_Us-apocalyptic-video_games-Joel.jpg)
Joel’s new daughter is the only thing that matters to him anymore in The Last of Us. [4]
If The Last of Us Part II really wants to take morally ambiguous characters and player choice to the next level, I would recommend Naughty Dog let players choose which characters survive and which ones die. If the information fans have so far is anything to work with, Ellie is going on killing spree against a dangerous cult. If Part II has me fall in love with a character, has this character switch sides, then asks me to make my own decision for saving or killing them, I don’t know what I would do. Should I save an old friend, or rid the world of a deranged cult follower? The power of videogames lies in the difference between having a theoretical philosophical conversation about a morally ambiguous decision and actually having to make the decision. In other words, forcing me to make a decision I don’t know the right answer to (rather than just thinking about it) is the secret sauce of my favorite games. Giving players this much choice lets them dive deeper into their own moral compass, and progresses our medium as the art form to pay close attention to.
Sources:
If you know me, you know my obsessions with the world of Red Dead Redemption 2. I feel like a part of it, and it always welcomes me back in with open arms and a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies. This cowboy sim is exactly what I wanted after Red Dead 1, a more in-depth characterization of the lawless Wild West coming to an abrupt end around me. I take the reigns as Arthur Morgan, a tall, dark, and handsome outlaw that is always on the run from something. He and his posse (the Dutch van Der Linde gang) travel from stunning location in the middle of nowhere to other gorgeous location next to a lake. Each of the gang’s change of address is accompanied by an in-tune melody and engaging scenery, so each one of these requires a steady, panning camera that soaks in all of the lighting and color palettes. This camera system has pushed the boundaries of what we thought an in-game camera could do. It is smart, magical, and polished into a fine addition to this masterpiece’s mechanics. Let’s talk about Red Dead Redemption 2’s impeccable camera.
Cinematic mode slaps.
The most obvious innovation is what the game calls “Cinematic Mode”. By clicking in and holding down on the touch pad on a PS4 controller (I assume it would just be the back button on an Xbox controller), the game removes all HUD information and the screen shape shifts into a cinematic camera, complete with black bars and all. This camera is designed to allow the player some breathing and healing time, all while always keeping the player within an engaging shot of the world. Be it within the rule of thirds, a point of reference of color, or if an object (like the occasional tree or shrub) covers most of the player, the camera will dynamically cut to a better angle that fulfills these requirements. I can’t tell you what percentage of my 80 hours playing Red Dead have been lost to setting a random marker on the map, letting my white Arabian named Roach (shout out to The Witcher: Wild Hunt) jaunt herself there, and watching Arthur steer her in Cinematic Mode. With a game this beautiful, it’s no surprise this feature was necessary. It’s the best form of fast travel I’ve seen in a game, because it still feels like I’m a part of the world, even if it is just one big loading bar…
Impressively, the camera seems to always keep Arthur in the rule of thirds of the camera’s angle at all times. As the player spins the camera either left or right, it will always keep Arthur between the left and right side’s rule of thirds. It’s a small touch, but a fine one nonetheless.
Taking ‘grammable pics is as easy as 1…
2…
3…
An obvious addition for this version of the world was to add in camera mode. You know, the one that lets you put your characters in goofy poses and silly faces all to break the fourth wall and capture one decent selfie that you’ll never see again for the rest of your life? Well Red Dead 2 does it better.
How? It gives Arthur Morgan a semi-accurate camera for the historical setting, sepia tone and all. By treating this camera as a tool at Arthur’s disposal, players can easily whip out the device, snap a few pics to add to their Rockstar Club wall, then put it away in a breeze and get back to the lawlessness of (cow)boyhood.
Movie… or Red Dead 2?
Film… or Red Dead 2?
For cut scenes, Rockstar has fine-tuned the camera to double as an Oscar-worthy cinematographer. During certain points in missions, the game takes control to create immaculate imagery on-screen. With so many great shots in my collection, I decided to prove my point with two of my most recent screenshots (shown above) taken just one main story mission apart from each other.
If I had to pick a gripe, I would want the ability to eliminate certain camera fields of view from my camera’s system entirely. In total, the following 4 views are available to the player: first-person, over the shoulder, full body, and zoomed out. Between opting for first-person view in my campsite and full body for everything else, I never end up using over-the-shoulder or zoomed out for anything. Having the ability to only switch between my favorite two views would minimize my annoyance at tapping frantically to get back to full body from first person in certain situations. That being said, the ability to auto-remove first-person while on horseback is a nice touch in the options menu. 10/10 would use this camera system again and again to stare into Roach’s eyes before we wreak havoc together in the Wild, Wild West.
The finest beast in all the land.
First image borrowed from Gamespot. All other images captured in-game on PS4 Pro.
