Jun. 24, 2009 - Issue #714: The Rural Alberta Advantage
Infinite Lives: Red Faction - Guerrilla
If I had a hammer
Summer solstice! Longest day, shortest night ... terrible screen-glare
conditions; unless you foil over your windows or make a lightproof fort out
of blankets and chairs, the Earth's own orbital mechanics conspire against
any kind of serious videogame playing. But will finds its ways, and while all
across the hemisphere other people were barbecuing, strolling, makin' out on
creeksides or prancing blissfully around bonfires in neo-pagan celebration of
the ascendancy of the Sacred Sun Cow or whatever, I holed up in my
well-shadowed office-nest with a copy of Red Faction: Guerrilla, demolishing
Martian factories with a sledgehammer.
This isn't really a review of Guerrilla; I don't think I've actually "played"
the "game" enough to fully comment. See, Guerrilla wastes no time laying out
for you its scenario, and the core of its appeal: you're a disgruntled mining
engineer on Mars, a corporate semi-slave colony in the throes of a brutal
police crackdown, and the only way to get the tyrannical boot of Earth off
the workers' collective neck is to destroy the living fuck out of all their
installations. Here's your hammer, kid, and a goodie-bag filled with
explosives; go out and literally smash the state. After the first time you
take down a hundred-foot cooling tower by hand, things like missions and
objectives and storylines sort of take a back seat to freeform
monkeywrenching.
One of the great Grails of gaming is the "fully destructible environment," a
gamespace where things like rocket launchers do to buildings and walls what
they do to enemies and such. It's natural for gamers to want this—as
the resolution and fidelity of games' virtual spaces increase, it seems more
and more "fake" when, say, you toss a grenade into an office occupied by
fascist stormtroopers, blowing them all to hell, and, like, the
coffee-maker's still sitting on the countertop—or when you're carrying
enough ordnance to face down a tank division and you can't get past a flimsy
wooden door because you haven't found the right keycard. Since its
PlayStation 2 debut eight years ago, the Red Faction series and its "Geo-Mod"
technology has been leading the way toward making this right: you're a miner,
the game says; go right ahead and freakin' mine.
From a level-design perspective, putting this kind of barrier-busting power
in the hands of players raises a bit of a problem: if, given enough boom, the
player can brute-force their way through anything, how do we then control
their experience—how can we keep them colouring within the lines
without building a frustrating rat-maze of arbitrarily indestructible fences?
Guerrilla avoids (mostly, I think) this problem by making wreckin' shit not
just a method by which an objective may be achieved but the objective itself.
It inverts the play ecology; rather than presenting an interior environment
of fragile material bounded by impervious walls, it offers vulnerable targets
surrounded by open space ... and guys with guns. Dealing with vigilant
gunsels can be a challenge, sure, but rarely does a physical barrier piss you
off: if it's standing in your way, you can knock it down.
Ah, the knocking-down. It's pure anarchic joy, right from the beginning.
Guerrilla doesn't force you to piss about for hours before you get some
satisfying wrecking gear; right from the beginning, you're given the most
satisfying weapon/tool in the game: that sweet sledgehammer. With one swing,
boom—there goes a section of wall. Boom—there goes a structural
support. Boom, boom, boom—the scream of twisted metal as the whole
building collapses. There is such an intimacy, an intensely pleasant physical
connection to this hands-on demolition. Like I said, I haven't really done
much in the way of structured missions in he five or six hours I've been
playing; it's been enough just to run around swinging my hammer at everything
in my path, cackling with glee as wreckage tumbles around me. And even
kicking it freeform like this, I'm making some kind of progress: the miners
see me going to town, doing my Mighty-Thor-on-PCP routine, and they're
inspired to do likewise. I'm getting a rep, inciting direct action by
example.
Really, the only disappointment I've so far felt with Guerrilla came after I
shut the game off and went to bed. Of course I had Red Faction dreams; I knew
I would, after that much endorphin-pumping intensity, and I was quite looking
forward to a night of cathartic hammer-swinging in the Realms of Sleep. But
it didn't turn out like I'd hoped: sure, I dreamed I was a space-miner, had
the hammer and everything, but in the dream I was stuck at the bottom of a
thousand-foot cliff. Spent the first half of my dreamtime dicking around at
the cliff-base, arguing with my Junior High math teacher over how best to
proceed, and the other half laboriously hacking a stairway into the stone
until I got halfway up and stumbled off the edge, plummeting awake.
Just goes to show, I guess: as freeform and open-world as they make it, no
amount of "escapism" is going to free you from your own crazy head.
V
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