Far Cry New Dawn – Final Review

Far Cry New Dawn’s central narrative is a mostly grounded and human affair, revolving around the struggles of Hope County, Montana’s various citizens in the wake of the catastrophic occurrence which terminated Far Cry 5’s narrative. Some years have passed – the world is changed, though oppressors persist, in this instance a pair of corrupt and barbaric twins, Mickey and Lou, both introduced almost immediately, lending the narrative a sense of focus; their villainy is fast established, too, as they make an assault on the player character, mysteriously named “The Captain,” attacking also his allies, the would-be saviors descending upon Hope County, desperate and eager to assist that county’s population – their efforts are selfless and noble, though the complete silence of the player character does diminish somewhat narrative effectiveness and resonance. Further resonance is destroyed when considering the twins, poorly developed and cliched, adopting a villainous role for self-serving, cliched reasons; they are evil simply for the sake of evil, evil because every compelling narrative direly needs a commanding antagonist. Reflecting narrative depth and ambition, though, Far Cry 5’s central antagonist, Joseph Seed, is reintroduced here, a fortunate reintroduction; as character he is far more compelling than Mickey or Lou, constantly displaying internal and external confliction, constantly displaying insecurities, even as he formerly adopted a leadership role; the destruction he earlier instigated acted on him, continues to act on him. Having multiple antagonists in this fashion theoretically deals another sharp blow to the narrative, overreaching. Such overreaching becomes ever more tangible when yet another antagonist is introduced – Jospeh’s son Ethan, who has led the Cult established by his father in his father’s absence, Jospeh happily embracing willed isolation, choosing to dwell in the far northern region of the map, away from his creation. Eventually, Joseph is indeed found and promptly relocated to the Cult’s sanctuary by the Captain, whereupon a struggle promptly erupts, father and son feuding intensely, much of this feud agitated by Ethan, desirous of obtaining and maintaining complete control over the Cult, its various members, even at the expense of the father / son relationship, the fraternity that relationship necessarily evokes. Here is another display of human drama, and the conflict and interactions between Ethan and Joseph are indeed quite profound; son turns on father, father seeks to pacify his son peacefully, to disarm him and diminish his ample hostility and selfishness. What is achieved here is far more theatrical and resonant than anything the twins accomplish, the pair suffering from generally poor writing, in addition to being painfully generic.

And so the narrative progresses, the Captain discoursing with and combatting these various villains, all in attempt to save Hope County’s various citizens, who establish a makeshift stronghold dubbed Prosperity, where forces are gathered, morale restored; in many ways, New Dawn’s story is their story, and while many of Prosperity’s citizens are nameless nonentities, others are compelling, with sometimes-profound backstories, which only serve to advance their humanities – many are abundantly likable, and seeing Prosperity surge and expand marks the narrative’s most rewarding moments, the structure’s constantly swelling nature serving to communicate the importance of the player’s actions; this game world is not static but is instead dynamic; Prosperity is the greatest instance of this dynamism. But a rather lackluster narrative conclusion – capped off by a brutally difficult boss battle which seems completely out of place – further hampers narrative strengths, while the overwhelming sentimentality observable in the concluding cutscene clashes tonally with the darkness which defined much of the earlier narrative, a darkness only occasionally tempered by light. Still, victory is won, all antagonists defeated, whereupon Prosperity’s citizens, and presumably Hope County’s other dwellers, can exist in peace, the Cult and Highwaymen vanquished. Some displays of emotional heft are present, specifically when considering the murders which periodically occur within the narrative, Mickey and Lou exercising their villainy, though mostly the narrative is defined by dullness and mundanity, the only matters of real note being Joseph’s melee with Ethan. Some departures from the human are made, also, as supernatural sequences are introduced into the narrative, revolving around forbidden fruit, its consumption bestowing upon the consumer heightened powers, capabilities. It is an immensely frustrating departure, owing to its rampant bizarreness, which serves a derailing effect, the psychological displaced by the fantastical, and the entire Far Cry series is defined by these derailments; Ubisoft cannot shake off their fascination with drug-induced revelries. Inoffensive and sometimes erratic and confused, the narrative serves its function, never amazing, though always eschewing outright, all-consuming boredom.  

New Dawn’s world design marks a major triumph, the world being frequently dazzling; creativity abounds. Foundationally, little has changed – the map presented here is a replica of Far Cry 5’s map, though condensed considerably, that game’s world dwarfing this one, this reduction being a deliberate decision by the developers, an advantageous one. But while similarities are abundant, there is that swelling creativity, and the greatest displays of creativity are directly connected to color and vibrancy. Here, almost all ground surfaces are blanketed in flowers, frequently pink or violet, their presence resulting in a certain tranquility. This flora’s thriving, meanwhile, communicates nature’s powers, its powers of endurance; some scant seventeen years or so ago, the county was a desolate space, devastated by the bombs dropped upon it. Now, devastation has been displaced by a burgeoning, ever expanding flora, resilient, while dazzling auroras have an almost constant presence in the blue skies ever above the player, while even lush forests continue to have their place in the world design. The inherent beauties of this landscape, this clever and wholly original spin on the post-apocalyptic, heightens the joys of exploration, which constitute a considerable portion of the overall gameplay experience. Masterfully, this visual grandeur is paired with ample sonic achievements, the game boasting excellent environmental sounds which increase the sense of immersion; birds chirp, insects sing their sweet songs, communicating life, which is communicated further by the inclusion of manifold animal species, many confined to one distinct region of the map, reflecting efforts at realism.

Visually, then, the game is spectacular, though these strengths are tempered somewhat by average technical performance, and sometimes flawed design decisions. The draw distance is often sprawling, conveying Hope County’s great largeness, this expansiveness being a hallmark of the entire series. Pop-in has a presence, too, while the texture work of those distant objects is occasionally very poor, the objects lacking in detail, this lack damaging the immersion which mostly thrives elsewhere. The gravest offense, however, is directly connected to environmental diversity, a diversity which is mostly lacking here, the number of variable biomes being very slight; the southernmost region of the map is functionally identical to the map’s northernmost areas, this environmental repetitiveness dampening the joys of discovery, so essential to an impactful open-world experience. Still, this lack of diversity points towards clarity of vision on the part of the developers. Far Cry 5’s Hope County, then, was one of its greatest strengths, and these strengths persist in the follow-up, though making a major departure: the world design is hyperfocused rather than bloated, in that the map generally is, again, far smaller than that present within 5, this hyperfocusedness resulting in a unique identity’s seizure; the game is not sprawling simply for the sake of sprawling, unlike so many other open-world games of the present moment, the earlier Far Cry 5 among them. In that game, after the obligatory tutorial the player is dropped into roughly the center of the explorable map, is dropped in with almost no restrictions – the player is free to travel south and north, east and west. In Far Cry New Dawn, though, the player begins the narrative in the map’s southernmost region, and exploration is simply a march northward. The uniqueness of this game design cannot be overstated, and the sense of direction achieved here is quite remarkable, though potentially divisive, many players clinging to the more open-ended manifestation of game design characterizing the present moment.

Exploration generally is heavily rewarded, in that Hope County, its various locations, is abounding in collectable resources, this title fully embracing the crafting systems which saw more halfhearted implementation in earlier Far Cry titles. Given the abundance of different crafting materials – there are roughly fifteen or so item types – the game has the potential to become overwhelming, though overwhelming sensations are ultimately averted, principally because none of these resources are capped, removing potential tedium; if resources were capped, the player would be forced to retreat with fair regularity to Prosperity, to expend those resources before further acquisition, though this is rejected. A certain hierarchy of materials is present, perhaps the most coveted and useful being ethanol, which is employed to upgrade Prosperity, its various structures, ranging from weapon benches through towards medical stations and less useful structures like the cartography building, which, when upgraded, highlights useful locations within the map proper. Just as exploration is directed, these upgrade paths are similarly directed, in that Prosperity must be upgraded multiple times throughout the narrative, for further progression to be attainable; instances of linearity are present here, though the player is provided freedom to upgrade specific structures, being capable of neglecting the more situational or less useful building types. Further reflecting linearity, meanwhile, various “Specialist” figures are also recruitable, such recruitment mandated by the narrative. These Specialists, when recruited, evoke no profound changes, do not open up new gameplay opportunities, though their presence in Prosperity still has some value, again communicating the settlement’s dynamism, its increasingly bustling nature, ever thriving. Recruiting these characters is traditionally exciting, some being locked behind elaborate and challenging objectives, though their importance wanes considerably after those recruitment missions are completed.

Still, exploration is a delight; for all its hyperfocus, the game retains ample open-world philosophies, and time has the tendency to evaporate, so great is the enjoyability. Much time will be spent simply navigating the smallish maps, the player obtaining resources major and minor while engaging in that navigation. Certain crafting materials are less exciting than others, though this does not diminish the sense of excitement which arises whenever stumbling upon resource caches, or other areas – oftentimes concealed – which are also home to great crafting materials. There exist objects like various flower breeds, which can be mixed together to create restoratives, while many materials are used to craft throwables, explosives mainly; ethanol is but one resource amongst many, though that latter object is especially cherished, central to expansion. Returning to Prosperity after protracted excursions, after quests for resources are finished, then promptly expending the resources gathered, is richly rewarding, and these crafting systems generally are excellent, being integral to the overall experience, again distinguishing this title from its series predecessors, where crafting was lackluster, sometimes seeing half-hearted implementation; not so here. Reflecting this, the capturable Outposts, long a hallmark of the series, receive greater emphasis, in that their attainment rewards the player with ample ethanol, that vital substance. Before, Outposts were principally used as fast-travel locations or places of rearmament. Now, they serve a far greater function, a clever if substantial alteration, which greatly incentivizes their seizure. Cleverly and uniquely, too, these various Outposts can be willingly given over to the enemy, whereupon they can be seized again, this seizure – expectantly – awarding even greater reserves of ethanol, incentivizing repeated engagement with these outposts. Also important to exploration are the various “Prepper Stashes,” another holdover from 5. These secondary missions often provide ample resources, while generally being immensely enjoyable to complete, some of them being quite involved; these missions are absolutely standouts, featuring fair depth while also serving a world building function, documents abounding, environmental storytelling seeing similar prioritization. Repeatable “Expeditions,” meanwhile, offer further enjoyment, each Expedition transporting the player to various predetermined regions often distant from Hope County, where resources abound, some only discoverable by the Expeditions’ completion. Repeatable and with variable difficulties, they offer ample enjoyment, their aesthetic differences injecting freshness. But in the quiet moments of simple exploration and resource gathering, the game soars, and the player is constantly progressing in some fashion, suggesting the core gameplay loop’s intoxicating nature.

Being a Far Cry game, it follows New Dawn inherits many design philosophies from its predecessors; not every aspect of the game design and world building is original or innovative. Reflecting this, beyond exploration the other twin pillars of gameplay are of course open combat and stealth, which can be employed in turn, resulting in a very organic gameplay experience. Regarding that former pillar, combat, the player has access to a rather exhaustive arsenal of weaponry, though in this precise instance the number of equipable weapons is lesser than earlier titles in the series, though certain of the weapons – like the much-touted saw-launcher – display a certain creativity lacking in other, earlier weapons, though this creativity does not instantly result in increased lethality; the saw launcher is included seemingly for purposes of player experimentation. These weapons are obtained, expectantly, through crafting, many of the higher rarity weapons having dramatic resource costs, a very notable and significant change, in that in earlier titles the player was given weapons for free after completing certain side quests, like radio tower seizures, while those weapons which were not dispensed in this fashion were purchasable with the monetary currency, which always existed in fair abundance, the player’s wallet constantly expanding, those games featuring manifold sellable items. Now, greater player choice is forced upon the player, given the potential scarcity of resources, the high resource costs of desired weaponry, those reliable and efficient in enemy dispatchment. The end result of this change, though, is a lessened emphasis upon combat experimentation and weapon variety, and rather than constantly obtaining weapons, promptly employing them and then just as promptly exchanging them newer, different weapons, in New Dawn the player will likely purchase – craft – far fewer weapons throughout the campaign. This lesser experimentation and flexibility potentially dampens the joys of gunplay, though such dampening is ultimately rejected, owing to the competence and enjoyability of simple gunplay, the guns feeling satisfying and impactful to shoot, while all featuring rather unique modelling, some of them adopting a makeshift appearance, being cobbled together or accentuated by various mundane objects, reflecting the scarcity of weapon parts in the wake of the destruction, while their design also imparts a certain stylization. Gunplay, then, is excellent, even if weapon exchanging is infrequent, though this excellence is even displaced by the stealth sequences, rewarding and actually viable.

In earlier titles of the series, the A.I. was often unfairly cheap and perceptive, almost honing in on the player’s location instantaneously, no matter the distance between player and enemy, no matter the underbrush or foliage surrounding the player – stealth was inconsistent, and was frequently frustrating rather than enjoyable, though some satisfaction persisted. Now, though, the A.I. behaves more realistically and fairly, and this shift makes more enjoyable the stealth; frustration is lessened dramatically. The game expectantly has a myriad of different takedown maneuvers, while stealth weaponry – like the devastating bow – is eventually obtainable, opening up further opportunities in stealth. Increasing freedom in stealth, meanwhile, the locomotion systems have seen refinement, this refinement placing added emphasis upon verticality, while also making navigation more seamless: the player is empowered, capable of scaling many structures with ease and with grace, the animation quality here heightening player immersion. Before, mobility was clunky and constraining. Now, though, mobility is liberating. Access to a double jump towards the narrative’s middle parts, meanwhile, only increases navigation options further, contributing to many exhilarating sensations, even though this ability’s inclusion marks a great departure from reality. Ample refinements have been made here in stealth and gunplay both, these refinements heightening enjoyability, which actually rivals the enjoyability evinced in simple exploration. And with these three distinct pillars, gameplay repetition is largely averted here, a very consequential statement; New Dawn never outstays its welcome, though the open-combat, with all its bombasticness, is occasionally overwhelming and draining, especially when the enemy presence is immense. The stealth sequences, also, prompt swelling and unnerving tension, greatly acting upon the player, engaging them. Gunplay and stealth both are further influenced by RPG mechanics’ inclusion, in that each individual enemy is provided a level, the lowest level enemies being ranked I, the highest level enemies reaching rank IV. Enemy power level and endurance naturally increases as the ranks progress, quite a profound change, one which incentivizes and makes absolutely necessary weapon acquisition; attempt to combat a level IV opponent with a level II weapon and success is practically unachievable. This system is potentially frustrating and even arbitrary, and seems included by the developers in their quest for uniqueness, for series departures; it is personally divisive, though the originality – and Ubisoft was seeking some originality, certainly – is indeed commendable.   

In keeping with general industry trends and the recent push towards role-playing mechanics, other progression systems are also present within New Dawn. The primary form of progression is related to a perk system, in this instance directly transplanted from Far Cry 5; the implementation here is excellent, and XP values – which dominated Far Cry 3 and 4 – are completely absent here. Upgrades are instead directly connected to perk points, objects which are frequently awarded, distributed after completing various challenges, both major and minor; kill a predetermined number of enemies with an assault rifle, perk points are awarded; catch a specific species of fish, again points are awarded. In this regard, the player is constantly making progress, every action undertaken contributing to player growth. Despite this constancy, however, many of the exciting dimensions necessarily defining character growth are lessened here, principally owing to the boring nature of the perks, themselves, many being unexciting, having only situational usefulness, others completely drained of usefulness. Many of these perks are of course expected, necessary inclusions – a litany of perks revolve around carrying capacity’s expansion, for instance, each weapon type having a correspondent perk, which, when purchases, allows the player to carry additional ammunition for that weapon type. It is mundane and lackluster, and ample flaws exist here – if the creativity and imagination characterizing the world building were applied to the perk system, resounding would be the successes. But it is not meant to be, with a litany of other perks which are undeniably useful, though still not intriguing or imaginative, like the purchaseable takedown skills which permit the player to stealth kill higher ranked enemies. Others allow access to wingsuits and even a grappling hook, both highly useful objects which enhance traversal objects, player freedom, though when regarding that latter object, some mistakes are made, mistakes easily observable when considered alongside Far Cry 4. In that game, the grappling hook was perfectly implemented, becoming central to exploration. Here, though, the implementation is half-hearted: grappling points are very scarce. Many upgrades, then, are boring, again included out of expectation; the game does not always excel in its inclusion of role-playing design philosophies, and actually adheres too closely to the Far Cry 5 blueprint, the perk system being foundationally unchanged.   

Some more inventive upgrades are present, though, these perks accessible a fair ways into the narrative proper. After locating Jospeh Seed and performing a few tasks for the man, the Captain is enabled to partake of special fruit. The double jump this consumption enables has already been mentioned, but a few other useful perks are also purchaseable after this occurrence, like one which heightens movement speed, or one which supposedly increases player evasiveness, increasing further the viability of a stealthy approach. While these perks are useful, in this playthrough their usage was slight. In an interesting – and potentially negative – turn, the challenges which confer perk points are observable at any moment, and looking at these challenges has the potential to destroy immersion and organicness, altering the way any player performs; they would become prone to grinding. Accordingly, not once was this screen viewed, and this deliberate neglect makes all the more exciting a challenge’s completion, especially if that completion confers a particularly large amount of perk points. Reflecting exploration’s incentivization, meanwhile, the mentioned “Prepper Stashes” always contain magazines, which when read confer perk points. It is a clever inclusion, though generally the perk system suffers somewhat from the lack of more revolutionary perks, those which would alter greatly the gameplay experience or enhance player flexibilities and freedoms, though this basicness is tempered by Prosperity’s own upgradability, quite profound, even if somewhat linear, and also defined by useless upgrades. The cartography building sells increasingly detailed maps; buying those maps and relying upon them would dramatically alter exploration, would streamline it and destroy its more organic attributes; they were avoided. Similarly, an upgradable garage is present, its upgrading permitting the player to spawn increasingly elaborate and useful vehicles, both ground and air. But given the map’s size and construction, it is just as easy – perhaps even more efficient and enjoyable – to proceed on foot, wherein immersion is enhanced, the sound design more easily appreciable; the garage, then, was not upgraded either. The progression systems here are inconsistent, though these efforts at taking the series in a somewhat new direction must be lauded, while Prosperity as settlement is also deserving of praise, morphing into a character in its own right, ever expanding, ever struggling, persistent, powerful.  

Also of note are the companion systems in the title, here named “Guns for Hire.” In the act of simple exploration, the player will likely stumble upon these characters, who like the Specialists can be recruited after satisfying their demands, assisting them in some matter, though these characters play a more active role. Certain of these missions can be quite involved, one particularly notable one revolving around an older, female figure, with ample prowess and experience as a sniper. Initially, her quest revolves around shooting prearranged targets within a specific time frame, a fairly simple objective, though the quest climaxes with an assault by countless enemies, the player – and the woman – situated in a bell tower, wherein the opposition is fired upon until player victory, the sniper recruited thereafter. Many of these characters are indeed useful – if expectantly situational. In this playthrough, one figure was relied upon for almost the entirety of the narrative, after acquisition: Timber, a loyal and resilient dog. Just as all characters have a passive ability, his passive tags nearby enemies, highly useful in stealth sequences, marking enemies the player may have missed in their earlier recon endeavors. These characters, meanwhile, are also upgradeable, obtaining additional passives after reaching a predetermined number of kills. Timber, for instance, can tag nearby resources after reaching max level. Useful in theory, this upgrade system disincentivizes experimentation in companions, in that a companion – like Timber – who is fully upgraded has greater usefulness than an unupgraded ally; the effort involved in their upgrading can be laborious. Still, almost any companion can become useful, while their usefulness necessarily increases as the narrative progresses, in that Prosperity features an upgradeable structure which directly enhances their lethality, and accordingly their usefulness. The non-upgraded Timber is abundantly useful in stealth, though being fairly fragile in combat; the upgraded Timber can become a powerful combatant, while the inclusion of a revive system only enhances these characters’ importance. Given the bustling nature of the world proper, with fauna and NPCs in turn moving throughout, a sense of loneliness is generally absent, but venturing alongside a companion, be they a dog, an old woman, or the bombastic, returning Hurk, destroys any vestiges of loneliness outright.  

New Dawn is unabashedly a Far Cry experience, neatly adhering to the blueprint established in 2012’s Far Cry 3, though some departures do indeed exist here, principally the inclusion of more involved – though still somewhat basic – role-playing mechanics, mechanics which are well implemented if flawed. Flawed or no, these implementations – experimentations – result in a gameplay experience defined by constant progress, be it large or small. The core gameplay loop is enchanting, and when considered in light of sheer enjoyability, New Dawn is a massive achievement, its highly directed nature taking the open-world genre in rather unique directions, the world design being fiercely focused, all superfluous activities excised; tedious repetition is rejected. New Dawn is very much a condensed experience relative to its predecessors, then, and this condensing is the greatest source of its strength and uniqueness, permitting the game to surpass even the excellent Far Cry 5, a game similarly triumphant – here, gameplay is more involved and more compelling, even if the RPG elements are inconsistent. But when considered alongside that game, New Dawn’s narrative is totally and easily eclipsed in greatness, the earlier title featuring an ambitious and engaging narrative, with villains who mattered and showed considerable depth and confliction, this title featuring a dull and uninspired one, the antagonists themselves dull, cliched; the spark of life is largely missing here, only the enigmatic and impassioned Jospeh Seed standing as compelling figure, though his son, a wholly new inclusion, shows fair depth, showing a drunkenness for power, showing also the frustrations and disillusionments of youth – he behaves believably. No poignant questions are ever made here, marking another detachment from 5, while the narrative’s erratic nature, where the twins are fought one moment, the Cult interacted with the next, contributes to the narrative’s destruction, gradual but total. But not all games need advance poignancy, need not engage the player emotionally or even cerebrally; for many players, enjoyability matters most, countering narrative failings. And so it is here, and so New Dawn adopts an almost in-between position within the series, and in that regard it can be likened to Blood Dragon and Primal both. This trio of games are united in many ways, being smaller experiences which reuse assets and the general topography of their immediate predecessors, though collectively they excel in their smallness, their focus, rather than being destroyed by them, while smallness does not inherently equate to restrained ambitions – some experimentations are undertaken here. And given that New Dawn is constructed on the foundations of 5, mechanically it dwarfs those earlier, intermediate works, was naturally primed for success, and New Dawn as a useful and valuable diversion, a sometimes profound, sometimes subtle departure from its predecessors. New Dawn’s restraints, its occasional turns towards linearity and hyperfocusedness, must be commended as refreshing, even if blemishes – like the flawed narrative – do indeed exist.

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