I've just finished the single-player campaign in Starcraft II. I hated it. I only played through to the end because I had to review the game (the review is posted here; spoiler: I gave it a B). Aside from the rare interesting mission, I'm glad that's over. Partly because I don't care for the usual scripted shenanigans in single-player missions. I play strategy games as strategy games, not puzzles. But I'm mainly glad it's over because the writing is so clumsy, superficial, earnest, and ubiquitous. I mean no disrespect to 12-year-old boys when I say it's something a 12-year-old boy might enjoy.
But I'm not here to tell you I didn't like the Starcraft II story. I'm here because I have something I want to say to everyone who doesn't play videogames as often as we do. Since those people, naturally, aren't reading this site because they don't play videogames as often as we do, please pass this on if you see them: I apologize for the writing in the games you might have played. We're not always this stupid, I promise.
Did you tell them I said that? What did they say?
Now that it's just us again, let me ask you something. Why is it that the biggest "event" games, the games that get the most exposure among real people - Halo 3, Gears of War 2, Red Dead Redemption, Modern Warfare 2, Starcraft II - why is it that these are the games with the most embarrassingly stupid, cliché-ridden, inconsistent, slapdash writing? The sky's the limit when it comes to artwork, graphics engines, celebrity talent, marketing - oh, lord, the marketing! - and yet they can't afford a good writer? Or if not a good writer, at least someone with the insight to say, "Hey, this is really bad and we're going to embarrass ourselves to everyone but 12-year-old boys. Maybe we should at least pretend we're not serious about the story stuff?"
Because you know what game has a better story than all those games I just mentioned? Lost Planet 2. Yep. That's bad writing that doesn't pretend it's good writing. It's silly and it knows it. It serves the game exactly as much as it needs to, and then it gets out of the way. After fifteen hours of having my nose rubbed in the Jim Raynor's teenage moping, I think I'm about ready to return to the gloriously unabashed cheerful stupidity of tubby Mexican aliens on hoverbikes chasing souped up Jawa sandcrawlers.
Tomorrow: serious multiplayer
(Click here for the previous Starcraft II game diary.)
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