MGS4: Release, Reaction, Retrospect

Well, it’s been over a year since I wrote on this blog. Life took various twists and turns and I ended up one thousand miles from home. In that regard, I suppose, you could say my life is similar to the game I’m discussing in this post.

Metal Gear Solid 4 has been discussed to death. No doubt about it. However, even if you dig elbow deep into the recesses of the internet, you’d be hard pressed to find reviews that weren’t clouded in the excessive  hype, inflated scores and deep seated nostalgia that the finale of a series spanning two decades would naturally bring with it. Couple that with a fandom that goes to extreme lengths to defend even the most embarrassing aspects of their beloved franchise and you’ve got yourself a game that carries itself on name alone.

These articles weren’t without criticism, however. Many focus on the complaint that MGS4 often feels like watching a movie that intermittently asks you to play a video game to progress the plot. Others slam series creator Hideo Kojima’s penchant for the self referential and his less than subtle attempts to weave callbacks into the plot itself.  Attention is frequently drawn to the convoluted narrative, uneven game play, lazy explanations and frequent load screens.

So how did something that could be collectively summed up by critics as “a game that’s more of a poorly written, confusing, cliche-ridden movie than a game” receive nearly perfect scores?

MGS4 effectively streamlined some of the shortcomings of its predecessors, it took the trademark stealth approach of the series to some new locations, introduced some novel game play concepts and even managed to be visually stunning while doing so. But are these merits deserving of such acclaim when we take into account the aforementioned criticisms leveled against it? In retrospect, I believe the answer is no.

This is mostly because Metal Gear Solid 4 did not and could not work as a standalone game in the series.

For such a highly anticipated game that was being hailed as a “platform savior”–even getting its own PS3 bundle– it’s hardly accessible. I cringe to think of the level of WTF experienced by the unsuspecting gamer who picks this title up without any previous MGS experience. The plot tries to be a little more user friendly by having frequent “flashback” scenes that can be triggered by hitting the X button during cut scenes.

But who are these really for? They’re not expository enough to help the uninformed and as a lifelong Metal Gear fan, I didn’t need to see 15 pieces of dated character art and screen shots to remind me who Naomi Hunter is whenever her name is mentioned. If I choose not to watch these flashbacks, I have to endure an awkward, unnatural moment of silence during a cutscene brandished with a neon orange “X” symbol.  Things like this make me think that Kojima was so busy beating me over the head with nostalgia that he forgot to include the aspects of his works that make me nostalgic for them.

The codec is a perfect example of this.  In previous installments, the codec served as Snake’s connection to the world outside his mission. A team of analysts, weapons experts, medics and the like provided him with back up, humorous banter and optional expanded plot exposition every step of the way. In MGS4 , Snake is a more experienced soldier and the narrative seems to suggest that he doesn’t need back up anymore. But Otacon–one of the only two contacts in the entire game–still feels the need to tell Snake that he’s on a mission, how to fire a gun and that he needs to get from Point A to Point B. Unfortunately, with a few exceptions, that’s all Snake’s best friend really has to say. Whether you hated the codec conversations in the past or not, they were largely responsible for creating the feeling that Snake was on a solo mission and breathed life into the world around him. Having the option of hearing unnecessary amounts of detail about seemingly insignificant in-game objects was part of the magic of MGS.

And while the game still gives you the option to avoid fighting all together in favor of sneaking past guards, the level design and game mechanics in many ways make full force combat the more attractive option. Why would I care about hiding the body of a guard when so many areas of the game are full blown war zones? Why would I care about avoiding an alert status when I have close to thirty militiamen to assist me in combat? Kojima advertised the game with the slogan “No Place To Hide” at TGS 05, but it becomes clear that with nowhere to hide and no real places to infiltrate, the titular Tactical Espionage Action aspect is no where to be found.

At first glance, these sound like mild complaints that one could counter with the argument that Kojima could not have possibly addressed every fan desire. But when one recognizes that he went to painstaking lengths to do just that, it’s hard to understand how he managed to overlook so many elements of what separates Metal Gear from other action games.

So, again, if MGS4 doesn’t entirely work as an MGS title and it’s not accessible enough to stand on its own two feet; why was it lavished with praise by pretty much every gaming publication on earth?

Probably for the same reasons that I initially thought of it as a good game.
It wrapped up the story that many dedicated gamers had been following for a decade or two, even if the explanations weren’t as cool as we expected them to be. We got to be Solid Snake again–for the first time since 1998–for the entire game, even if the game itself wasn’t that long. And even though there were instances that made us cringe, the fan service was effective enough to make us smile at least once. In a sense, Kojima could do no wrong. He delivered on his promise,  even if it wasn’t in the way we wanted. He let us bid farewell to a character and a game that at some point in our lives, we really cared about and even managed to give us a few more very memorable sequences along the way.

And for those reasons, game journalism took a break from objectivity.
Even if it doesn’t make much sense in retrospect.