Here's a question I had after completing my trek through Naughty Dog's Uncharted 2: Who is Nathan Drake? I don't mean in general, as the "back-of-the-box" description would say he a roguish sort who explores ancient locales in order to recover rare artifacts or treasures for sale. What I mean is the deeper tissue aspects of who he is, particularly as to how that intersects with the actual gameplay. Having gone through a couple of the Uncharted games, I can say that this seems to feel like a reoccurring problem, one where the actual moments of player agency seem tonally at odds with the more traditional narrative moments (cutscenes, cinematics, etc.).
For example, there are many moments where two characters will exchange a series of quips and expository dialogue much more in line with something Indiana Jones would say, then engage in an armed conflict with a dozen or so enemies at a time. Nathan Drake doesn't just shoot back, he annihilates these people in a variety of ways: grenades, automatic gunfire, snapped necks, throwing them off of cliffs, and much more. Dialogue-wise, it hews much more to Indy, but it's more towards the film Commando with regards to gameplay.
All of that is really indicative of the fact that the Uncharted franchise wants you to feel as though they've dropped you in a summer blockbuster film, much like the Call of Duty franchise has done for the past few years. I don't see that motivation as a negative, yet I'm inclined to have an issue with the execution. Let it be known that I actually had a very good time with Uncharted 2, and thought that what character was there was charming, as well as finding some moments genuinely exciting. Even so, it's those tonal inconsistencies that cast a shadow over the whole of the game.
A name has been given to this specific fault: Ludonarrative Dissonance. It's when the moments of player agency (gameplay) fail to align to the tone of the more traditional narrative moments (cutscenes). Take, for example, the game Grand Theft Auto 5. If I was playing as the character Franklyn and I randomly mowed down a group of people walking down the street, that would be out of character with that we're given of who he is. Yet, I can do so and wait long enough for police to leave me be, then it's as though I never did anything. It seems that so much of the game is catered around empowering the player to do what they want in gameplay, that it shoots itself in the foot narratively and dramatically. If I'm to be more honest, most games have this problem.
What's a person to do? On the one hand, in the moment, it feels pretty good to be able to defeat hundreds of folks shooting at you and then to have your character spout some witty one-liner. On the other hand, when it doesn't fit that character's characterization it brings everything down a bit. It almost makes me wonder if the whole of game development has been mostly focused towards indulging the player's desires for empowerment. That would explain why so many games focus on making you feel as powerful as possible. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, but it happens so much that it's no wonder that there are still so many who see the medium as immature.
That being said, I think there are some good examples out there. One such game is actually made by the same developers of Uncharted 2: The Last of Us. It's a critical darling that takes place in a post-apocalyptic United States overrun by a plague of the undead. In this game, the player is brought into the desperate mindset of the protagonists, Joel and Ellie, via the cinematic affectations of the cutscenes as well as through the gameplay. That level of tonal and emotional unity is achieved by forcing the player to make a series of difficult choices. Say you want to make some sort of gun with the parts you've scrapped. Well, sorry, but to do that you have to use a resource that may be needed to make certain traps that are useful against particular enemies. Even more, the game goes on as you're in this menu, meaning that you can be ambushed whilst trying to craft a new tool. It forces one to think critically about what you need, while also being on the lookout for danger, much like what Joel and Ellie have to do. Even more, Joel isn't a killing machine. It takes time to make it past a group and often may require you to play it quietly with stealth. Through this, there is a strengthened backbone behind its themes of desperation and the limits of empathy.
Does that all mean that I think the Uncharted series would have been better with less gunplay and more of a focus on self-preservation? Maybe, especially considering the fact that Nathan Drake is essentially Indiana Jones. What if the best way to play was finding a way to not engage in combat with the various, elite, bloodthirsty mercenaries and to make it past them? What if Nathan could use his copious wits to figure out a way through this? Sure, he could still engage in some gunplay, but the player really would have to work for it. Maybe my tastes don't totally align with Uncharted's bigger audience, but popularity is not indicative of quality. Sure, the Uncharted franchise is fun, but that doesn't mean that the storytelling has to aspire to be merely good.
