One of the most common games of nerd one upmanship is “I knew them before they were cool.” Bands, movies, whatever.
For games, the phenomena is even more prominent. Although some classics still play as easy as the day they were published, for most people, dated graphics and awkward control schemes make many of the classics borderline unplayable to many, even if DOSbox or similar lets the stupid thing boot.
When Halo hit the consoles, the sign of the True Fan was playing Marathon, Bungie’s older spaceman shoot-em-up. (Of course, nerds being nerds, there were layers and layers of further division to mark the real Vidmasters.)
I came to the series late, taking the free downloads at Aleph One after seeing the creator of the (excellent) Minerva Metastasis was a fan.
The spritework and lack of quicksave was a bit of an adjustment, but I fell in love. Not with the first game, much as I may have liked incinerating hapless civilians or slowly turning the tide against endless invaders. Not the third, in all its incomprehensible glory. (Especially not with those vacuum levels).
It was the second. Marathon II: Durandal. I’ll admit dual wielding double barreled shotguns helped, but the real charm was the narrative. Space battles, slave rebellions, and a couple mad AIs cracking wise and making your life hell. Fun times.
I’ve spent some time thinking about why I love it so, and what makes it so much better for me than the other two. And I’ve realized it’s simple.
It isn’t all about you.
Yes. You play as an unstoppable murder machine, like every FPS ever. And yes, your AI companions are more or less useless, to the point where murdering them is encouraged. But this isn’t some FPSs, where that’s ignored and you’re treated as another grunt; here you see the factions in play reacting to a superhuman force of murder in their midst, and actively planning around it.
Durandal, your AI boss, treats you like a combination of beloved attack dog and walking nuke. The enemies treat you like the apocalypse come to town. All well and good. But that’s not the exciting part.
The exciting part is how they have lives outside of you.
Durandal uses you as a distraction to get real work done. Your human buddies try to take forts and get slaughtered until you show up. The evil aliens deal with their insane, petty bureaucracy. Until the endgame, this all feels good, but nothing unique. It would show up later in the Metroid Prime series, and there’s a good bit of it in System Shock. Even the other Marathons cover the ground. But the part that makes Marathon II special for me?
The endgame drops the war winning gambit, and it turns out you were playing distraction for the last act.
The last mission isn’t even being the hero. All the humans have run away safely, and the alien fleet is blown up, (first one entirely your victory, second less so). Your boss just wants to humiliate the surviving evil aliens and figures sending you solo would be the funniest method to do it.
The details get complicated, (One of Bungie’s faults of the era was a tendency towards obfuscation to the point where they didn’t know most of their own answers.) but the basics are simple. You’re one person, and no matter how important you are, there’s going to be things that aren’t just about you.
I loved that when I first played. I still do. Not enough games have things happen, important things, without your input for reasons that make sense considering all the relevant actors.
One of the things I like most about games is how they can create worlds. But player characters tend to break them. Mass Effect has Shepard being an omnicompetent god. Metroid Prime has you murdering your way through the guys writing the logs. Half-Life’s world can’t get things going without Gordon.
Marathon, for once, lets you be a bit player from time to time.
It makes sense that games would have the normal set up. It’s more satisfying to be the hero than to be a pawn. Even when other games have you being a puppet in someone else’s game, they tend to let you have sweet vengeance. Even comparing it to Bungie’s later Halo series, the difference is obvious. Halo 3 ends with the player killing the AI that kept switching sides on you, and save the galaxy on your own initiative. In Marathon 2, even killing your AI ally turns out to have been part of his plans. We all play second stringer enough in day to day life. Games are an escape from all that.
But they aren’t, usually. Most modern shooters spend their running time barking orders at the player. Call of Duty won’t let you open a DOOR without permission. We get patted on the back and told how amazing we are for following the lines. Even Bioshock, a commentary on how games have you following the lines, gave you catharsis but no freedom for the ending. We don’t necessarily want to be the hero or the mastermind. We’re usually content to be the same murder machine Marathon casts us as in practice. We just don’t like having it pointed out.
That’s really what makes Marathon 2 shine, and why I love Durandal. He’s honest. The whole game hammers home that you’re a small part in a big world, and any victories “of your own” are side notes. (Which matches up with how the plot’s going to happen no matter what you do, and the only bit that’s yours is style in completing it, and maybe a few secrets here and there.). Durandal points out when you’re doing his bitchwork, every time your best wasn’t good enough due to factors entirely beyond your control at least gets mentioned, and more. The plot reinforces the gameplay in a way that isn’t entirely flattering to the player. Yes, you fight the good fight. You even win. But victory isn’t yours.
I can see why it wouldn’t be popular. But that makes it more worth cherishing.
Further Reading: Self Determination Theory Part One (Medium Difficulty)
Self Determination Theory Part Two: Competence and Relatedness (Medium Difficulty)
Wounds of the Shepard: Trauma and Affective Bonds in Mass Effect (Medium Difficulty)
