The platform was eerily quiet. The floating shadows of the
Reapers darkened the stars that hung around the Citadel while Earth burned
below. I contemplated my choices, feeling again the sinking dread in my
stomach. None of the three options given to me would be enough. With the entire
future of the galaxy riding on my decision, I couldn’t bring myself to pick any
of the choices the Catalyst presented me with. None were good enough for the
sacrifices made by my friends. My team. Here, at the end of our journey, I was
faced not with victory, but with discouragement.
If you have never played Mass Effect and don’t intend to,
check out this video series on youtube (spoiler alert!). If you have never played and want to – what are you waiting
for? This article will still be here when you’re done. If you had asked me
three months ago if you should begin playing the Mass Effect series, I would
have said no. I was angry with Bioware, and I felt their ending had violated
the very essence of their series. But I would no longer caution you about getting
involved with this game. Please, jump on into the rabbit hole.
The Mass Effect series is not just about running and
gunning. It’s a masterpiece of the space opera genre; infusing culture,
politics, and philosophy with superlative character development and plot twists
that involve your own personal decisions. Do you feel comfortable killing the
last of a dying race because they were once a threat to the galaxy? If yes,
then do it. If no, then give them a second chance and it’s not the last you’ll
see of them. Your best friend found the man who betrayed and murdered his old
team. Do you let him take eye-for-an-eye Old Testament style revenge, or do you
step between them and hope your friend will see the wisdom in not letting
tragedy change you for the worse? How do you handle conflicts with your
friends? Be careful, because in this game, if you side with one, you might
actually lose the other forever.
The writing in the series is excellent. Each character has
his or her own voice, and you can choose the extent to which you interact with
them. As a result, every player has his or her own unique set of friends,
colleagues, and lovers. For example, I found Miranda to be obnoxious and
entitled, while a friend of mine insists she’s strong and capable, but
overcompensates for self-confidence issues. I thought Liara’s emotive personality
was sweet and warm, while others found her to be cloying with boundary issues. You’re
not forced to develop relationships with characters you dislike, and that
element of choice makes the experience that much more immersive.
These are the choices the Mass Effect universe was built on.
These are the emotions the series inspires. The number of scenes in the series
– particularly in the second and third installments – that moved me to tears is
astounding. When my Commander Shepard stood before the Catalyst – also called
the “Starchild” by many fans – and had to choose between three difficult and
disappointing options, it felt like a blow to the gut. After three games and a
multitude of varying in-game decisions, it all boils down to three options:
destroy all synthetic life (including a few of your friends and teammates),
control the Reapers and become the collective intelligence of the villains of
the past three games, or merge organic and synthetic life to end the conflict
between them. It turns out that in the new, extended edition there is a fourth
option: defy the Catalyst and watch as the Reapers devastate the galaxy,
killing all highly evolved life forms, both organic and synthetic. One of my
friends discovered this option when he shot the Catalyst in frustration –
something that in the original ending was maddeningly ineffective, but in this
version causes the child to go ballistic, shouting “SO BE IT”
in an ominous voice before evaporating and leaving you to the epilogue in which
you learn that everyone you knew and came to love was killed. Yes, everyone.
When the original ending to Mass Effect 3 came out in March,
it was not only depressing, it was arguably a disaster. The critical reviews
were all glowing, but it was clear as soon as flesh-and-blood fans started to
play that there was a tidal wave of unhappiness growing quickly. While some
have openly supported the disappointed fans,
many have not. There has been a lot of talk about “entitled” gamers and unrealistic expectations. I think that’s too narrow a perspective.
Bioware embraced player involvement in the series from day one. The games felt infinitely customizable, and your choices weren’t limited to what color armor you’d wear, but actually determined later plot twists. The way you played your character – paragon, renegade, or somewhere in between – determined how others reacted to you and how your teammates changed or did not change over the years. So when we were presented with an ending in which Shepard cannot ask questions or explore other options, “disappointing” suddenly became a very insufficient word to describe the experience.
Bioware embraced player involvement in the series from day one. The games felt infinitely customizable, and your choices weren’t limited to what color armor you’d wear, but actually determined later plot twists. The way you played your character – paragon, renegade, or somewhere in between – determined how others reacted to you and how your teammates changed or did not change over the years. So when we were presented with an ending in which Shepard cannot ask questions or explore other options, “disappointing” suddenly became a very insufficient word to describe the experience.
But the dissatisfaction went beyond the lack of involvement
with the ending. Another huge problem was the brevity and similarity of the endings. In all three endings, the mass relays explode (but in different
colors, depending on your choice), your crew crash lands on a jungle planet,
and the entire galactic fleet is stranded in Earth’s orbit. What happens to
your love interest? He or she may step off your ship, the Normandy, in a very brief cutscene, but that’s all you get. Does
everyone die in the relay explosion? How does Joker react if you choose to
destroy all synthetic life, including his girlfriend? How do people handle
being synthesized into half-organic-half-synthetic beings if that’s the ending
you chose? Bioware gave us no glance into these possible endings. Considering
that the series was built on a series of personal decisions whose outcomes were
clear, impactful, and thought-provoking, this was a serious letdown.
There were also plot holes bigger than star systems in the
final 30 minutes of the game. Admiral Anderson says he followed you up the beam
to the Citadel, but suddenly he’s in front of you, in a room that he could only
have arrived it if he had taken the same path you did. And yet you never saw
him pass you. The mass relays all explode, something that in earlier games was
shown to destroy entire star systems. And yet somehow not everyone is dead. Teammates
who had come with you on your suicide run on Earth just moments before were
suddenly alive and well and stepping off your ship when it crash-landed on another planet. Which brings me to one of
the plot holes that seemed to be most upsetting to fans. The Normandy
is seen inexplicably fleeing Earth, after all your teammates have told you they
will follow you to the end, and after Joker has established many times that
he’s stubborn as hell and wouldn’t just run away. This particular detail
outraged fans. Quite frankly, the original ending felt like it was slapped
together and thrown out to the fans, bandaids and all, in the hopes that we wouldn’t
notice the sudden plummet in quality.
A lack of Bioware’s usual high standards was bad enough, but
the flaw that may have most upset the fans was the overwhelming feeling that
the endings were not worthy of the series and the options that you are
presented with are in conflict with the heart and soul of the Mass Effect story.
Players worked hard, often over the course of years, to learn about the
universe and think hard about the difficult choices. You could commit genocide
on more than one occasion, or bring together lifelong enemies. No matter how
you chose to play, the story of Shepard was epic, and the endings should have
been equally so. For some, this meant they wanted an option where Shepard could
live happily ever after with his or her love interest. For some, a tragic sacrifice
would have been fine, so long as it was a meaningful one. But when all the
players were pigeonholed into three unhappy options that seemed to only differ
in the color of explosion they produced, almost no one was satisfied.
There was a feeling of betrayal among the fans. The
developers of Mass Effect 3 had hyped the latest release, saying it would be a
powerful conclusion to the trilogy. There were promises all around, many of
which ran exactly counter to the experience the fans actually received. For
example, Mike Gamble, one of the producers, said: “Bioware will not do a ‘Lost’
and leave fans with more questions than answers after finishing the game.” Another
quote by director Casey Hudson, often featured with an accompanying screenshotof your three ending options,
said “it’s not even in any way like the traditional game endings, where you can
say how many endings there are or whether you got ending A, B, or C.”
Understandably, fans were frustrated when they were offered a series of new
questions, and options A (red explosions), B (green explosions), or C (blue
explosions.)
When it became clear very quickly that a significant portion
of the fan base was not just upset, but actually outraged and in some cases
depressed with
the ending, Bioware at first responded with what felt like a very cold, disinterested statement that they “stood by” their product.
This only fed the fire, and after a long back-and-forth, Bioware finally announced
an Extended Cut DLC to be released over the summer. It was not intended to
change the endings, merely provide some closure. The gaming community waited
anxiously.
When the DLC was released last week, I had moved past my own
frustration with Bioware and was truly hopeful that they would produce
something incredible. Perhaps I set my standards too high, because I was quite
frankly disappointed again.
I didn’t go into Mass Effect 3 in March hoping for a happy
ending. I expected my Shepard to die, but I also expected that Bioware would do
that ending justice. When they didn’t, I suddenly became more protective of my
game. If I couldn’t trust Bioware to send my Shepard off with a fitting
tribute, then I wanted a happy ending, damnit! Let her retire to a tropical
island with Garrus and their little krogan adoptees. Or better yet, let her and
her whole team ride off into the metaphorical sunset on the Normandy to continue to right wrongs
across the galaxy. If you can’t give her a suitable death, then let me imagine
a suitable future for her. In the final epilogue of the extended cut, I cried watching
my team’s bowed heads as Garrus put Shepard’s name on the memorial wall, but my
sadness was mixed with anger. I was mad at Bioware for making me suffer not
once, but twice. It no longer felt like my game – my story. It had been ripped
out of my hands and sacrificed at the altar of artistic integrity.
Perhaps that’s a little dramatic. No doubt, I will be called
one of those “entitled” gamers who dares demand that Bioware change their
sacred ending. But this was honestly a very difficult critique to write. I
wanted so badly for this new ending to blow my mind. I felt so let down by the
first attempt that I’m not even sure what would have made the second one good
enough.
As I’ve had some time to process the new ending, I’ve
realized that Bioware did give us many of the puzzle pieces we asked for, if
not all of them. They cleaned up a lot of their own mess – filling plot holes
and showing you a slideshow of the galaxy after your decision. They gave you
the option to ask the Catalyst questions about the three choices at the end and
even to reject the choices entirely (though the result of that is that everyone
dies). The Starchild seems less like he’s supposed to be a mythical “god child”
and now seems like an artificial intelligence that went rogue millions of years
ago and whose data files might have gotten a little corrupted with age, if you
know what I mean. Now that you can question him and push back a little, not
only does he seem like he fits in the story a little better, but Shepard
doesn’t just roll over and take it. One thing that has always been true of Mass
Effect’s hero, whether you play renegade or paragon, is that he (or she) asks
questions. Shepard is an active participant. This is now something that carries
through all the way to the ending, where it did not before. The extended cut
also explained why Joker and your formerly Earth-bound teammates were fleeing in
a very emotional scene where Shepard calls the Normandy back to evacuate an injured teammate. But overall, it was
still a bit of a let-down.
The endings were unsettling. That’s the only word that I can
think of that captures the strange ambiguity I feel. Perhaps that’s the
brilliance of Bioware, and once I’m done grieving the series and have forgiven
them for the mess of a first ending, I will see it. Or perhaps unsettling and
unsatisfying is all it will ever be. What I can say with confidence is that I
will be playing the Mass Effect games again and again. No matter how I feel
about the ending, the more time that passes, the more I feel the experience was
worth it. The only thing worse than the endings is the thought of never seeing Mordin happily singing in his science lab,
or never hearing Tali warn Garrus that she’s not afraid to use her shotgun on
him if he annoys her.
I will always want to the look of smug delight on Garrus’s face when he’s
pleased with his own wit or with a headshot he just made. I will always want to
shepherd (pun intended) my team through the Collector base and listen to Joker
brag about his flying skills as he dances the Normandy through space, saving all our asses again and again. And
that is why I will always play Mass Effect.
I haven’t found an ending yet that I think suits my playthrough
of the series. If Shepard represented one thing, it was the power to defy the
odds and change your fate, which is why the fatalism of Bioware’s version of
the refusal choice doesn’t sit well with me. I just don’t buy that the galaxy’s
demise is inevitable if you don’t go along with the Catalyst’s demands. So
perhaps the ending I will ultimately settle on is refusal, with a convenient
side of denial. I can imagine that Shepard spat in the Starchild’s face and
called in the Normandy to pick her up
from the Citadel so she could continue to lead the resistance against the Reapers.
And perhaps that’s what Bioware intended all along – to give us enough freedom
to truly choose our own ending, even if it’s in the safety of our own
imagination.
At least, that’s what I want to believe.
Originally posted at The Inclusive.
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