Games With Grey

Prototype’s central narrative is a dull and unimaginative construction, merely serving as framework for the gameplay, which is prioritized to the last. Not all narratives need be brimming with imagination and creativity – many games can excel even with flawed narratives. But the narrative tarnishment present here is especially painful owing to the swelling narrative potential – the rudiments for a grounded, psychological angle exist here, but rather than being seized upon and exploited, they are neglected outright, a frustrating admission; the developers could have advanced a poignant statement yet they failed to do so; forgetfulness abounds. The greatest source of potential is directly connected to place, the entire narrative transpiring in the New York borough of Manhattan, a region gripped by a devastating infection which grows ever more devastating as the narrative progresses. Here, the developers could have emphasized the human dimension, focusing on these citizens’ sufferings, clearly very intense. Instead, they are essentially nonentities, being unnamed and serving little practical purpose – they serve the role of mere window dressing, and that role’s reinforcement again damages potential poignancy; the entire narrative, then, is defined by this missed opportunity. A partial player motivation is the cessation of these citizens’ hardships, but knowing nothing of them collectively, as people, destroys player engagement and investment – there is functionally little to fight for, meaning the entire fight is essentially meaningless; it is difficult to overstate the narrative’s ample flaws.   

The player character, Alex Mercer, shows somewhat greater depth – but only just. An enigmatic fellow of a mysterious past, he fast occupies the role of anti-hero, gleefully resorting to violence if that violence permits him to satisfy his various aims. One such aim is the dissolution of that mystery, Alex animated by the desire to unveil his backstory, what part he plays in that damning infectious outbreak. In this regard, a sort of investigative tone is embraced, the player constantly in search of answers. As is characteristic of Prototype, though, once those answers have been obtained poignancy still remains elusive. The absence of poignancy does not necessarily correlate to the absence of mature themes – indeed, the game is brimming with violence and darkness, frequently savage and sometimes even distressing. In this regard, the player is indeed being acted upon, though in a more exploitative fashion. And so the searching Alex Mercer navigates Manhattan, slaughtering those in his wake, human and infected alike, completely indifferent to the repercussions of that violence. His pervasive apathy and coldness only damage whatever endearing attributes he might indeed possess – he is a flawed character, though not flawed in a compelling, human manner. Instead, he is flawed in the sense that he thrives on violence, delights in his powers’ frequent exertions. With his characterization, then, further missed opportunities abound. If his aloofness were only tempered by a swelling empathy or humanness, his characterization would only see dramatic improvement. While some displays of humanity periodically emerge, especially in Alex’s discourse with his troubled and estranged sister, this humanity’s presence is few and fleeting; Alex, violent Alex, marks another failure. So poor is his characterization, it actually serves a repelling function, pushing players away rather than actively attracting them. His overall static nature results only in further flaws.

Another major narrative failing, meanwhile, arises from the game’s overall formulaic structure, as the game heavily relies upon conventional cutscenes to advance the narrative. Normally, such a structure is not inherently flawed. In this precise instance, though, flaws abound, in that the cutscenes are typically very brief in length, while their emergence is predictable. From an aesthetical perspective these cutscenes show a dearth of more cinematic ambitions – they are painfully generic and totally devoid of any life or any real creativity. Given that cutscenes are so intensely relied upon, their poor implementation deals the larger narrative a sharp blow. Some compelling intrigue admittedly emerges in connection to Blackwatch, a villainous organization which fills the role of primary antagonist. Abounding in corruptness and gleefully engaging in exploitation, they are of a more despicable sort, and toppling the group brings great player satisfaction. Crucially and for the better, they are not a mere abstraction, in that their figureheads fill the role of more active antagonists. Similarly, besting them in open combat evokes its own rewards, and learning of their role in spreading the virus, learning also of the frequent experimentations they conducted in rural Idaho, prompts greater player engagement. But the narrative generally is fragmented, as two various threads are explored, one revolving around Blackwatch, the other the outbreak itself. Were one thread and one thread alone pursued, narrative heft would see a dramatic escalation. Instead, the narrative is erratic and accordingly disorienting and unenjoyable; whatever potential greatness exists is promptly snuffed out.  

Prototype’s gameplay absolutely fares better, though suffering from a similar instability and unpredictability – the highs felt can inspire unparalleled adulation, while the lows present inspire misery and dread. This vacillation between impressive and abysmal is a constancy, greatly damaging the entire experience, prompting an excess of frustration. The most consistent – and consistently enjoyable – gameplay system is directly connected to exploration and traversal, the player endowed with many unique skills which morph traversal from mundane act to exhilarating act; these traversal systems, them, foster a sense of uniqueness and innovation, perhaps reflecting the only instance of innovation. The systems are liberating, though somewhat of a learning curve is present, indicative of locomotion’s fair complexity. Difficult or no, relative intuitiveness persists, and after an hour or two of experimentation, of dedicated exploration, the control scheme’s minutia is easily understood and mastered. Alongside this mastery comes swelling enjoyment, and the exciting sensations movement evokes from the first persist fully all the way through towards the narrative’s conclusion – traversal in Prototype is a monumental achievement, liberating, empowering, and wonderfully flexible. Sustaining this complexity are the various activatable maneuvers, the player capable of executing air dashes at will, permitting redirection, while the player is capable also of gliding for extreme distances. Jump height, meanwhile, is wonderfully manipulatable, a charged jump permitting massive ascension, a regular jump more meagre ascension – balancing these two becomes essential. Employing these various abilities at will becomes almost second nature as the player progresses through the narrative proper, though this automatedness does not destroy player engagement. Indeed, movement inspires many cerebral moments, challenging the player at all times, encouraging them to view the game world in a fashion relatively unknown in other open world titles. Other sources of movement empowerment – see the complete absence of fall damage and the capability to scale all surfaces at will, permitting rapid ascension – solidify movement complexity and enjoyability. The player growth, the gradual mastery of mechanics, is a fantastic achievement.    

Exploration and movement are not static, the game featuring rather robust upgrade systems, which do extent beyond locomotion and even influence combat development; from a simple gameplay perspective, the Alex Mercer of the late game is decidedly detached from the Alex Mercer existing at the narrative’s conclusion. Much of this robustness, though, is superficial, in that many upgrades are flawed or excessively situational in usage. This cannot be said of the movement systems, true, as the player can expand upon number of available air dashes, can also increase sprint speed and overall jump height. In this regard, these upgrades fundamentally alter the gameplay experience, fundamentally better it; having access to three air dashes as opposed to two opens up new possibilities and only heightens the joys accompanying exploration. But abundant flaws characterize the upgrade systems; some purchaseable skills and maneuvers are not merely situational but are instead outright useless. Consider only the upgrades centering on hand-to-hand combat. While present in fair abundance and seemingly possessive of ample usefulness, in practice their applicability is slight, in that in almost no scenario will the player rely upon that precise combat strategy, in that in terms of sheer strength and efficiency it is totally eclipsed by the other equipable abilities, like a blade which sprouts from Alex’s arm, or a tendril-like object which sprouts from that same appendage – an entire upgrade tree is worthless. Instead, the player will inevitably rely upon the blade ability, and to a lesser extent the deadly claws, the mentioned tendril ability, and even a power dubbed hammerfist, wherein Alex’s regular, human fists are replaced by more monstrous and exaggerated hands of fair destructibility. As was the case with the hand-to-hand combat strategy, all of these powers are also upgradeable, in that the player can purchase new combos, which in theory alter and better the gameplay experience. In practice, they actually alter little, and the game essentially becomes a mere button masher. In most scenarios, the player will select the blade ability, then will promptly proceed to mash the attach button over and over again, making periodic dodges until victory is eventually achieved. It is rarely fulfilling, and when combat is viewed alongside exploration and traversal, the great enjoyability imbalance is readily observable, frustrating when considering how intensely the developers emphasized these upgrade systems. Almost every completed action rewards experience points, though, again, the abilities obtainable with this currency are frequently of a very lackluster sort – the developers’ vision was not realized.  

A few halfhearted efforts at innovation and novelty are present within Prototype, the greatest efforts revolving around the consumption system and the web of intrigue facet of this system. Beyond his combat and athletic capabilities, Alex is a shapeshifter by nature, capable of consuming essentially every NPC in the game world. Such consumption becomes a vital necessity, in that while devouring an NPC health is regenerated. Considering that health never regenerates automatically – or only partially regenerates up to a predetermined threshold – consumption becomes a constancy. Fair enough. Consumption’s importance increases further still when considering the disguise system in place, the player capable of swapping between Alex’s character model and the model of the most recently consumed NPC. This willed vacillation permits the player to elude pursing adversaries – if the player is being tailed by helicopters, for instance, they can simply retreat to an alleyway where they are unobserved, and then switch to the different character model, this switching confusing the pursuers and ending the search. It is a clever and unique system, certainly, though one with fair flaws. The player can glide around enemies, can leap multiple stories in their view, without attracting their attention, as long as the appropriate disguise is in effect; believability is absent here, though here the absence of believability prompts an increase in enjoyability. Still, the novelty must be praised, as must the interaction between Alex the shapeshifter and the various Blackwatch personnel he encounters; consuming a soldier permits the player to circulate amongst other soldiers essentially unmolested, meaning the player can adopt a more relaxed stance. In some instances, this disguise is absolutely necessary; consuming a captain permits the player to enter into more prominent enemy installations, wherein further, more consequential consumptions are available. These bases often house consumable soldiers which, when devoured, increase combat proficiency with the various firearm types, meaning such infiltration is heavily incentivized, providing the player with a very useful advantage. And all of these scenarios are permitted by way of the very clever disguise system, wonderfully implemented and wholly novel, even with the relative lack of believability, the A.I.’s overall stupid nature; they are far from reactionary.   

The web of intrigue system, meanwhile, adds further complexity to the consumption process. In the act of simple exploration, the player will inevitably stumble various special NPCs, who develop the narrative upon their consumption, providing ample, valuable insight lacking in the narrative proper; they flesh out the central narrative’s sparseness. The dynamic nature of these targets’ spawnability only heightens the joys of exploration, already immense owing to the profound traversal systems. Indeed, if the narrative’s true minutia is to be grasped, the player must play an active role in pursuing these various predetermined targets. Here again is another clever and innovative way of delivering the narrative, though again the cutscenes accompanying consumption are painfully generic, relying upon tired military jargon. The imagery employed in these cinematics is generic, too, destroying potential player engagement. Neat chronology is also rejected, in that the web of intrigue system bounds about seemingly at random, rejecting orderliness and focus, embracing erraticness. The developers must absolutely be lauded for this system’s inclusion, in that it does inject some life into the dead and dying narrative proper, but the implementation generally is very flawed. Were the number of consumable targets lesser, were the cutscenes longer and better developed with more cinematic flare, this system could very easily thrive and be the greatest source of the game’s originality, its memorability. Foundationally, the systems are sound, though their great potentialities go largely unrealized, as is frequently the case in Prototype. The randomized spawning of these NPCs does portray Manhattan as being an energetic and bustling location, further reinforced by the potentially dozens of NPCs present on the city streets at any one moment, moving about frantically and fearfully in direct response to the contagion. Furthering this theme of energy and the dynamic, the Infected’s increasing presence alters the game world as the narrative progresses, their grotesqueness uglifying it terribly, their menace demoralizing the populace. This dynamic, ever-changing nature must be commended, as must be the detailed day / night system, further suggesting motion. Dynamic or no, this portrayal of Manhattan is terribly flawed, the borough having no distinct identity, doing nothing to distinguish itself from the countless other open-world titles which claim Manhattan – sometimes all of New York – as their game world.

Prototype is abounding in frustrating design decisions, a major failure stemming from length – the central campaign can be painfully overwrought and accordingly draining; tedium fast settles in. Besides failing on this macro level, micro level failings also exist, in that each individual mission has the tendency to drag on endlessly. In some other given open world title, the player might be tasked with destroying one or two of any given object. In Prototype, though, they will often be forced to destroy seven of such objects, eight of such objects, resulting in enjoyability’s diminishment. By roughly the fifteen hour mark, all motivation to complete the title had evaporated outright. And still I trudged on, that perseverance largely attributable to the fantastic traversal systems, a consistent delight which does not wane with time but instead increases, as the controls are grappled with and mastered, as abilities and freedoms are bolstered and enhanced. The overwrought nature of the narrative and missions is only exacerbated, meanwhile, by the excessive and oftentimes unpredictable difficulty level – Prototype can be incredibly punishing – sometimes outright cheap – even on the default difficulty level, meaning frustration has a prominent presence. Many times, Prototype can seem like a war of attrition, as the same scenarios are tackled and then promptly retackled, while the boss fights particularly suffer from this try / fail / try / fail design philosophy. Their unfair difficulty only serves to heighten the game’s more alienating attributes, and actually completing the central narrative was a relieving, relaxing affair – the tedium and frustrations were finally bested. All throughout the developers strived to communicate Alex Mercer’s immense empowerment, though in the gameplay proper he shows considerable fragility; a gameplay and narrative imbalance accordingly exists here, a strange and unexpected imbalance; dissonance abounds. Still, Prototype is absolutely a sandbox, greatly encouraging and even incentivizing experimentation. Fool around with this ability, full around with that; wreak as much chaos as possible, see how long such chaos can be preserved before death or boredom – those are the ambitions that the developers possessed and exerted, treasuring gameplay above all else. Many players will likely thrive on this freedom, and enjoyability is certainly not absent; the game can be very enjoyable. But players interested in anything other than havoc, those thirsting for narrative complexity and more original narratives and world design, will again be alienated. In many regards, Prototype is defined by its forgettability, which totally consumes the narrative, and to a lesser extent the gameplay – consider only the flawed progression systems. No resonant chords are struck here; emotional engagement is absent. The gameplay might periodically inspire cerebral stimulation, might be very demanding, though generally a sharp sense of mindlessness is pervasive. Still, the relative freedom in traversal and upgradability is deserving of mention, and Prototype – released in distant 2009 – is like a relic from a forgotten era. Now, groundedness and humanness mostly dominate the open-world genre, and Prototype boldly and totally rejects anything approaching groundedness; frustrating and liberating in turn, Prototype is a unique specimen.