Red Dead Redemption 2, plays--often by itself with no input from the player--as a Shakespearean tragedy, haunted by the ghost of crunch, with far too many things to do for the sake of having things to do. The point of it all is cinematic realism--until, of course, it isn't.
Character writing, often so effusively praised, I found lacklustre; despite being one of the lynchpins of the narrative, Dutch's descent into despotism felt insincere as I never got the feeling he was a good leader to begin with, already prone to egoism and wild bouts of jealousy. Bar Arthur (who is fantastically written and acted) and John (significantly fleshed out from RDR1), the rest largely feel like archetypes; while they range from likeable to annoying, it's difficult to invest in or feel bad for them as the world they've constructed into collapses around them.
It's on the realism front I feel RDR2 is the most inconsistent. It's expected you travel from point A to point B manually, riding a horse and chatting with your compatriots about the latest ego trip fuelled plan which will definitely not fail this time, really--only for you to murder everyone in a mile radius, shooting cartoonishly except for when it's time to reload, which is done with agonising care. There's no punishment for lingering in towns which you killed damn near every person; no evidence that they've suffered a population loss for your murder spree.
Realism also fails in the fundamental disconnect between the near-infinite amount of things to do and the narrative. I could collect as much money as possible, donate it painstakingly to camp, upgrade tents and buy medicine--only to have to follow main story quest with the same beats: chat, press A, shoot, run away.
We are instructed, very carefully, over and over again, that things were Better Before and yet see no evidence of it. There is no evidence of nobility, of trying to marry the potentially unethical to immoral with the good; there is just murder, failed heists. Combined with the often varied dedication to realism, it's therefore difficult to invest in the narrative stakes. Are we being chased by the law? Or are we simply loitering in camp, a group large and conspicuous enough to undoubtedly be noticed by passers-by? It fails in that there's no impetus to propel the narrative forward until Arthur's had his fill of hunting and fishing and fossil finding and looting and side quests and train-robbing or train-catching and whatever else it is you'd like to do--often with your hand held by the UI--before you decide that there is a story and you probably should get back to it.
It was going onto one of those story missions that I realised I didn't want to continue any more; that the game had well and truly worn me out, and if I had to watch another beautifully rendered, wonderfully acted cinematic cutscene where I would be given eventual permission to press A at the end to get my horse to move, I wouldn't even be enjoying myself. I might pick it back up at a later date, but for the moment, I'm done.
Character writing, often so effusively praised, I found lacklustre; despite being one of the lynchpins of the narrative, Dutch's descent into despotism felt insincere as I never got the feeling he was a good leader to begin with, already prone to egoism and wild bouts of jealousy. Bar Arthur (who is fantastically written and acted) and John (significantly fleshed out from RDR1), the rest largely feel like archetypes; while they range from likeable to annoying, it's difficult to invest in or feel bad for them as the world they've constructed into collapses around them.
It's on the realism front I feel RDR2 is the most inconsistent. It's expected you travel from point A to point B manually, riding a horse and chatting with your compatriots about the latest ego trip fuelled plan which will definitely not fail this time, really--only for you to murder everyone in a mile radius, shooting cartoonishly except for when it's time to reload, which is done with agonising care. There's no punishment for lingering in towns which you killed damn near every person; no evidence that they've suffered a population loss for your murder spree.
Realism also fails in the fundamental disconnect between the near-infinite amount of things to do and the narrative. I could collect as much money as possible, donate it painstakingly to camp, upgrade tents and buy medicine--only to have to follow main story quest with the same beats: chat, press A, shoot, run away.
We are instructed, very carefully, over and over again, that things were Better Before and yet see no evidence of it. There is no evidence of nobility, of trying to marry the potentially unethical to immoral with the good; there is just murder, failed heists. Combined with the often varied dedication to realism, it's therefore difficult to invest in the narrative stakes. Are we being chased by the law? Or are we simply loitering in camp, a group large and conspicuous enough to undoubtedly be noticed by passers-by? It fails in that there's no impetus to propel the narrative forward until Arthur's had his fill of hunting and fishing and fossil finding and looting and side quests and train-robbing or train-catching and whatever else it is you'd like to do--often with your hand held by the UI--before you decide that there is a story and you probably should get back to it.
It was going onto one of those story missions that I realised I didn't want to continue any more; that the game had well and truly worn me out, and if I had to watch another beautifully rendered, wonderfully acted cinematic cutscene where I would be given eventual permission to press A at the end to get my horse to move, I wouldn't even be enjoying myself. I might pick it back up at a later date, but for the moment, I'm done.