Uncharted 2, Storytelling, and Luke Skywalker

If Uncharted 2 isn’t the prettiest game I’ve ever seen, I’ll eat my hat.

It’s not really the polygon count or the lighting or anything technical like that — it’s the art. Everything has color and weight and substance to it, and a rich detail that is almost unbelievable. Old things look old, new things look new, and the visual clues the developers give you, be it a tiny stream of light or a subtle use of texture to point you in the right direction, are brilliant.

Seriously. I’m in absolute awe at just how beautiful this game is. It’s the little things, like your clothes getting wet only up to how deep you’ve gone in a river, or Drake slowly collecting snow on his boots as he leaves a trail behind him. It’s barely noticeable, yet ingenious stuff like that that makes games like this so darn believable — and it’s also the reason why we love to get lost in them.

Naughty Dog has rendered everything you see using the in-game engine, so when you cut back and forth between the gameplay and the cut-scenes there is very little difference between the two, aside from lighting and camera angles. The transition between the two is brilliantly polished as well; sometimes you don’t even know when it happens. It’s a really amazing thing to see in motion.

I’m not exactly the biggest fan of cut-scenes, not because I find them boring or anything, or because I want to “skip to the explosions and guns and fun stuff,” but because I don’t think they’re the best way to tell stories in games. Now, I’m not exactly sure what the “best way” to do that is, exactly, but I know it isn’t copying the blueprint of film. So, when developers like Naughty Dog blend gameplay and cut-scenes without too many noticeable breaks, it’s a huge step forward for videogame storytelling. Well, in my opinion at least. So, yeah, thumbs up Naughty Dog.

Truly remarkable visuals and the usage of them aside, what really makes a story-driven experience like Uncharted 2 work is the characters. Nathan Drake, by far the most interesting and human character to come out of this generation of consoles (or any of them, really) is back and better than ever. While most characters in videogames try to be grander than the rest of us — muscle-bound baddasses who carry chainsaws into battle without even the slightest hint of apprehension or fear — good ol’ Nate is a regular guy just like you and me, albeit one thrust into some pretty remarkable circumstances.

I don’t know about you, but if it was me put into those circumstances, or most of the ones we see in games, I’d be scared out of my mind — though like Drake I’d try and make do with what was handed to me. And see, that’s the problem with a lot of games: the characters just don’t reflect who we are. They aren’t afraid of anything, and they rarely if ever have any faults. They also tend to look a little too “perfect,” something many people, including myself, don’t find “perfect” at all. (Think skinny runway models.) They just don’t show the scars and diversity of humanity, you know?

Sure, games are mostly about escapism, and they’re certainly good at what they do. They do it better than any other medium, if you ask me, and I very much enjoy that sort of entertainment, so please don’t think I’m asking for the death of escapism or anything, because that would be… well, stupid. But here’s the problem: Art reflects who we are as a people, helping us understand each other, and ourselves, a little bit better. When we have characters we can’t relate to because they’re too powerful or unmoved by the obstacles they face, we can no longer connect with them and are thus taken out of the experience. So much for escapism, eh?

You know one of the reasons why so many people loved Luke Skywalker? He had more power than any us, obviously, and found himself in a much more exciting adventure than any of us will likely ever face. However, he also had hopes, dreams, and fears to go along with that. He wasn’t perfect; he wasn’t Superman. That’s what let us to relate to him, despite him being in a galaxy far, far away, and it’s the same thing with Drake (or Batman, if you like). It’s not like we need normal, everyday guys and gals like us in all of our games, but we do need more of them.

Anyway, I’ll get off my soapbox now. Back to Uncharted 2 proper, I’m happy to report that the shooting mechanics feel a lot better than in the original. Now, I did play the game on the lowest difficulty setting (I like testing the waters in games, as I don’t like sinking, being eaten by sharks, or other scary water-based metaphors), so maybe the aim assist and health boost helped me out a bit, but the game definitely feels tighter and less frustrating than the original. No more enemies who point and laugh as I empty several magazines into them, either, so gunning down the bad guys is all sunshine and happiness this time around.

The platforming works better here, too, hard as that is to believe, what with the first game handling that aspect pretty darn well. Running, jumping, climbing, and so on flows perfectly in Uncharted 2 and feels incredibly smooth, and I hardly missed any jumps at all; the game seemed to know where I was going and wanted to get me there with as much ease as possible (though it was still challenging enough to keep me on my toes). The hand-to-hand combat is also improved, so much so that I spent half my time doing it. You also get to sneak around this time and do some stealthier assassin-ish moves on your enemies. Cover works brilliantly now as well, allowing you to slide in or out of it and hop from place to place super easily. Seriously, Uncharted 2 controls like a dream.

Everything else is pretty snazzy too: animation, voice-acting, character detail, sound, music — everything goes above and beyond what the original game did. Good stuff. Oh, and there’s one thing about Uncharted 2 that impressed me more than anything else (possible spoiler for the rest of the paragraph): Later on in the game you’ll find yourself in a small Tibetan village high up in some snowy mountains, and the sequence that takes place there involves no physical/violent conflict whatsoever. You’re just there, walking around, breathing in the world, seeing kids playing with a soccer ball, and hearing Drake offer a few witty lines now and then. Not many games do this, and though I absolutely adore the action sequences in Uncharted 2, it’s this small, silent moment that really took my breathe away. It makes me wonder what an entire game based around such a calm moment would be like.

If you haven’t gotten the chance to play Uncharted 2 yet, please do so with all the haste you can muster. Or Hastaga, if you’d prefer. It really is an amazing experience, from beginning to end, and something people will be talking about for years to come.