Mass Effect: Leveraging a Science Fiction Childhood
Matt McLean
In 2007, video game developer BioWare released Mass Effect, a science fiction action game that went on to garner a number of top game awards for its absorbing storytelling and cinematic gameplay. Its successor, Mass Effect 2, was released early in 2010 to rave reviews, making its way to the top of many game-of-the-year lists. As a fan of science fiction, I was immediately intrigued by Mass Effect and its promise of an interactive space opera.
At the time of this writing, I’ve played at least two hundred hours of Mass Effect across both of its video game incarnations. As a gamemaker, I was intrigued by my own behavior in that I’d often pass up playing another game – even that shiny new purchase - in favor of putting more time towards Mass Effect, a series of games I’d already played thoroughly. One reason I did this was because I had a limited time available to play video games and I mentally viewed the decision as a better or more satisfying way to spend that time. In general, I wanted to return to the world of Mass Effect on a more regular basis. I began to wonder why this was the case as there are certainly other titles out there worthy of my play time.
I’ve always been something of a science fiction nerd. When I think back on my childhood, it was full of detailed spaceship drawings, imaginary playground games that transformed structures into space stations and shuttlecraft, and hours spent reading novels by Arthur C. Clarke or watching episodes of Star Trek. I was fascinated by the idea of leaving Earth on a daring adventure to other worlds, meeting all kinds of people and creatures on the frontier of known space. At age 24, playing Mass Effect rendered this boyhood desire more clearly than any other interactive experience I had encountered. As Commander Shepard, I was an experienced space commando on a state-of-the-art ship, fighting or talking my way through any number of exciting situations and leading a squad of aliens and humans on a quest to save the galaxy. The game tapped directly in to the worlds that occupied my time as a kid and a teenager.
When I was younger, there were two basic tenets of my imaginary games in space: there was going to be fighting, and there was going to be exploring, which are, of course, the core experiences found in the Mass Effect series. The first game takes on the responsibility of introducing a large, detailed world and focuses on fostering a sense of awe and vastness, encouraging exploration. I used to spend hours building space stations out of Legos and simulating dramatic fly-bys – a feeling that was instantly re-created in the games by the reveal of the epic Citadel space station, nestled deep within a picturesque nebula . The limitless potential for discovery and the typically expansive scope of the future of humanity had always captured my imagination as a kid, and continues to do so today. Combat was an important part of the game, but it became more so in the award-winning sequel, which by contrast was fast-paced and designed around creating intense situations. Whether I chose to be a soldier or a manipulator of Mass Effect fields (known as a biotic), or some combination thereof, Mass Effect 2’s combat was polished and exhilarating, letting me feel like the hardened space warrior I had often imagined on the playground.
One thing my imaginary experiences shared in common was the assumption that a vast universe existed in which my adventures took place. The details weren’t important – the fact that I believed it to be there as a backdrop was. In the same way, the core exploratory and combat elements of Mass Effect are supported by the depth of a consistently visualized and interesting universe - complete with cultures, politics and technology. The player comes into contact with this world simply by virtue of moving through the game and story, but there is also a rich backdrop that the player can explore by accessing their in-game ‘codex.’ Containing information on everything from weapons to cultural customs, the codex is automatically updated with information throughout the game, so if, for example, a particular planet is mentioned in conversation, it’s easy to refer to that entry without requiring lengthy exposition from the characters. This completes the illusion that Commander Shepard knows enough about galactic culture to get by in conversation while allowing the player to access more detailed information at their leisure. Even if the player rarely accesses the codex, it plays an important role in letting them know there is an extensive galaxy of different species, customs, technology, planets and politics that underpin their interactions. The conviction and confidence of that world perpetuates in other parts of the games, grounding the story and character interactions in something that feels quite tangible. Mass Effect doesn’t require that the player be interested in the details, but puts forward the important effort to make sure the details are still available. Additionally, the consistency of that world makes it accessible and easy to understand.
That accessibility also extends to character interactions in the game. Shepard’s squad is composed of a variety of species, and they learn to work together as a team in order to accomplish great things. By having a wide range of cultural backgrounds interacting with each other and the player, the depth of the game increases a great deal. The player now has access to the personal stories of each of the teammates, all characterized not only by their personalities but by the extra dimension of their cultural backgrounds. Indeed, prejudice between races is one of the themes of the games. While the same depth could be approached with a multi-cultural, all-human crew, the idea of working with alien crew members taps directly into the fantasy of the space opera. Players who share an enthusiasm for science fiction adventures thusly find another, more personal means of learning about the game world. The Mass Effect games embed these interactions further into the world by making sure that the choices the player makes in conversation can directly affect the characters with whom they interact, allowing the player to participate in individual
character arcs.
The absorbing fantasy of Mass Effect, perfectly attuned to my nerd frequencies, also supports a feature that many games aspire toward and often fall short of grasping: replayability. The completeness of the world and interactions foster the same experience as re-watching a favorite film or thumbing through a beloved, dog-eared copy of a book or graphic novel – the pleasant rediscovery of places, characters and scenes. In my teenage years, I would often repeatedly immerse myself in fictional worlds, consuming every bit of information I could find. As adults, we like to think that we grow out of this type of intense study when it comes to the imaginary, but television shows like Lost demonstrate that many of us love to explore mystery and mythology. The Mass Effect games take this a step further by inviting the player to participate and giving them a choice in how events unfold. This, however, is the power of interactive video games, so let’s look at some less obvious ways that Mass Effect excels in providing replayability.
In my experiences playing the games, I experienced a certain level of attachment not only to non-player squad members, but to each iteration of Commander Shepard I created. Of course, a solid character customization system supports the feeling of ‘knowing’ each one, but what the games really do well in characterizing Shephard is accommodating different play styles. This is addressed in two ways: in player specialization, which pushes the skills of that particular Shepard in a particular direction, and in a morality system that helps define that Shepard’s tendency toward ‘good’ or ‘evil’ behavior based on choices the player makes throughout the game. Combined, these systems afford the chance to create any number of different space heroes with varying outlooks and experiences in the context of the game – a rough-around-the-edges soldier with a heart of gold, a powerful biotic who walks the moral line, or perhaps a cold-hearted sniper with little regard for anyone or anything. Consequently, each Shepard of my creation had his or her own story throughout both games. The last Shepard I created was built in Mass Effect 2, without having played that character in the first game. While the experience was still of a very high quality, I felt that in some ways it was missing something, that it was like telling only half the story of “my Shepard,” or that I’d missed the first movie in the series starring that character.
On that note, we can start to see how playing the games more than once is actually quite pleasurable. The player is given a lot of freedom to experiment with characters and choices in the game – the freedom of creating the same epic space adventure story in any number of different molds, much as I did as a child using my imagination. At some point, I know I was playing more Mass Effect simply to take all the paths I hadn’t yet wandered down, or to hear the numerous different responses my crew had in conversation. Mass Effect 2 ratcheted this up by providing cinematic interrupts. These are choices that are only available for a few seconds, springing up during interactions with other characters. In a particularly memorable scene, Shepard and a crewmate interrogate a criminal on the Citadel. He’s so irritating and full of himself, you wish you could just punch him – and up pops the Renegade action option. Shepard communicates his or her tested patience by squeezing a fist. Do you punch the guy in the face, or do you let his snide comments slide? The answer for me was, of course, both. On the other hand, the use of such an interrupt might affect the loyalty of a crew member. This is a great way to engage the player even further in the theater of Mass Effect.
Replayability is one way the series resembles my youthful absorption of the imaginary worlds of science fiction, but anticipation is another important aspect that Mass Effect does not neglect. Like all good epic stories, each game ends in an exciting cliffhanger, promising more adventures to come, but what sets the games apart – especially Mass Effect 2 – is the regular release of high quality, downloadable updates. For players who had already completed the games, here was yet more Mass Effect, concentrated into episodic format. Lair of the Shadow Broker alone featured beautifully detailed environments (a massive ship stationed in a stormy atmosphere that stored lightning as its power source, the Blade Runner-esque immensity of the city of Illium) and resolved a long-standing plot thread. The little kid in me waited with bated breath as if expecting next week’s episode of Star Trek. Of course, each additional adventure begged to be played from the perspective of each of my Shepards. Any ending reached is modifiable by
more play.
On the other hand, one of the biggest issues with bringing epic science fiction stories to an end is that they have to do a lot of work to resolve narrative and character threads. In asking the audience to engage with an operatic, far-reaching story on that level of detail, the ideal ending is often created in their minds, and it’s against that ending that the storytellers must compete. Not surprisingly, endings to complex science fiction tales often fall short of the expectations crafted by the fans, even if the fans themselves aren’t sure of how the stories could end in a better way. Likewise, storytellers - under pressure - can stumble. Tyipcally, when a story begins, there is an agreement between the storytellers and the fans that there is in fact an end to the story – but I feel that science fiction stories are not really meant to end. They are meant to live on, either in more installments or in our minds, inspiring us to think critically about human society and its future. In this way, video games are well-suited to the task of telling science fiction tales. There’s a lot more time and space in which to create a consistent world and drive player engagement, and Mass Effect uses this to put itself in an enviable position: the universe of the game exists outside of its main story. The reason my science fiction childhood still resonates with me is because the worlds in which I immersed myself continued outside of any one story. From John Carpenter’s Tripods books to the vast and exotic galaxy of Star Trek, the science fiction worlds that stuck with me were the ones in which I could imagine any number of stories occurring (and of course, the ones in which I fervently hoped more stories would be told). What better anticipation than that of knowing that the door has not been closed on stories yet to come?
Certainly, my experience with the Mass Effect series won’t directly map for others. It can’t be presumed that someone without the same personal connection to the science fiction themes I valued so much as a child would experience the same level of absorption with the games. For those of us with that connection, the Mass Effect series takes perfect advantage of it, letting us know that it’s okay to play with spaceships again. By providing a galactic playground, powerful story customization, and top-notch character interactions, the games accommodate the energetic story permutations that we once crafted as children. Whether it’s an archetypal cautionary tale or musings on the future of technology and society, science fiction has always been about imagining the astounding – Mass Effect lets the young nerd inside of us participate in and ultimately take with us the best the genre has to offer.