A few weeks ago, Richard Pearsey, Narrative Designer at Yager Development wrote an interesting blog which ultimately and unfortunately way undersold the brilliance of Spec Ops: The Line. In his concluding paragraph, he states that "In the end, The Line is not about ethics and morality in war or war games," and then proceeds to explain that the game is more built around triggering emotional reactions in its players. Though it does seem unavoidable that any player would have a strong response to a playthrough of Spec Ops' campaign, the game's blistering narrative power comes from it being a stark and self-aware contrast to the clunky, behemoth franchises that typify the modern shooter genre. Despite the fact that Call of Duty 4 still seems genuine in depicting the horrors of modern weaponry, almost every big war shooter that's followed in its footsteps has awkwardly fumbled in continuing its trendsetting vision; Battlefield 3's campaign presented one laughable cliche after another with a straight face, Modern Warfare 2 & 3 featured tasteless and exploitative scenes of atrocities, like "No Russian," simply to brew up controversy, and the upcoming Medal of Honor: Warfighter has one of the most manipulative and irresponsible marketing campaigns games have ever seen. Despite the fact that it's been less than 5 years since Call of Duty 4, the subgenre it popularized has already gone awry in innumerable ways, with most of its flagship successors reducing themselves to uncomfortably mindless experiences. Spec Ops: The Line stands apart from its infantile yet self-serious brethren simply because it's reactionary; Yager had the good sense to step away from the games of its peers and cast a critical eye on them, shaping Spec Ops to be their opposite.
It's important to note that Spec Ops: The Line's antithetical nature isn't just skin deep because it doesn't try to merely be the anti-war counterpart to EA and Activision's war-glorifying franchises; the game isn't anti-war, it's anti-wargame. Despite the fact that Spec Ops' budget seems quite limited compared to other war shooters, it fires on all cylinders, going above and beyond expectations in almost every way in order to deliver a hard-hitting message about the nature of action games. I'll give you what I feel is a perfect example of the genius that fuels this game's forward-thinking narrative:
The game at first seems to perpetuate one of my biggest gaming pet-peeves by featuring asinine loading screen messages that do nothing but insultingly point out the obvious ("Press X to reload," etc.). When I first played through the game and knew little about it, I merely took this as a sign that the game was willing to adhere to certain trends, no matter how stupid they are. To me, something as simple as a quick message during a load-screen can be surprisingly indicative of the design philosophy that governs a game's development, and Spec Ops: The Line's initial batch of load-screen "hints" seemed to say it didn't aim for much despite its potentially tacked-on connection to Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.
Imagine my feeling, then, of dying partway through the game and getting hit with this loading message: "Cognitive dissonance is a feeling caused by holding two conflicting beliefs simultaneously." I won't divulge what narrative significance this line holds, but suffice it to say, it caused my jaw to drop much in the way an explosive setpiece would.
By the point in the campaign at which I read this, the game had already escalated beyond the mindless shooter fare it slyly pretends to be at the start into something truly remarkable, but this message sealed the deal. Neither the game's basis in Conrad's 1899 classic, and moreso in Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now, nor its intent to defy its peers is used as a mere gimmick or means of attracting an audience looking for a highbrow shooter; Spec Ops: The Line is a genuine, deftly-conceived exploration of the dark parts of the soul, and every facet of the experience is imbued with its core theme. But while its film and literary counterparts are grounded in exploring the dark and surreal within the harsh realities of war and colonialism, respectively, Spec Ops focuses purely on the fantastical. More specifically, it critiques the power fantasy associated with modern shooters. While playing the action game du jour, we like to envision ourselves as heroes ridding the world of enemies through all sorts of drastic means, free of any semblance consequence. Spec Ops: The Line flips that sense of empowerment on its head; the further you go, the farther you stray from both heroism and the illusion of it.
Spec Ops casts you as Captain Walker, the leader of a Delta Force squad sent into a sandstorm-ravaged Dubai to uncover the truth about the disappearance of his former commanding officer, the not-so-subtly named Colonel Konrad, and the battalion he commands. The game's narrative is centered around a hellish downward spiral - the organized, routine mission that Walker and his squad sets out for at the game's outset soon turns toward complete and utter chaos. The game's constantly escalating narrative tells you to work through more than a few harrowing scenarios, and frequently shows you the consequences of the relentless force and power of your actions. The real kicker is that it then asks you if it was all really worth it; by the time all's said and done, you'll have treaded innumerable moral grey areas and committed one atrocity after another in the name of the "mission." After the credits roll, most games would give you a "congratulations" and 100 Achievement Points, but Spec Ops forces you to solemnly look upon the terrible things you've wrought.
Of course, I haven't even described what the game is in its most basic essence: a cover-based third-person shooter. And whereas most recent games of that ilk have augmented their core gameplay with setpieces, vehicles, or platforming sequences, Spec Ops sticks to its formula relentlessly; aside from a couple on-rails sequences, pretty much all you'll do in this game is get into cover and pop out every once in a while to shoot people. The shooting mechanics aren't even that remarkable either. Aside from a gruesome execution system that furthers the game's focus on moral grays, every aspect of the gameplay is rather cut-and-dry. The game's absence of variety and general lack of polish in terms of mechanics make it feel archaic, and furthering this feeling is the game's use of laughably old-school shooter conventions like bright red exploding barrels and mounted turrets that trigger massive enemy spawns. It'd be tempting to say the game uses its story as a crutch, but upon reflection, the unimpressive gameplay that serves as the venomous narrative's backbone seems apt; after all, Spec Ops sets out to critique shooters, so it's rather fitting that it almost feels as if the game's singleminded and mind-numbing mechanics were built to purposefully exaggerate and stereotype the gameplay found in war games of past and present.
The sand-buried Dubai that the Delta operators find themselves in serves as a fitting and beautiful thematic backdrop for the campaign's action. Environments shift from grimy ruins, to lush opulence, and places in-between all at the drop of a hat. As the game progresses, the imagery becomes even more twisted; character models change to reflect their injuries, color-palettes become more defined and striking, certain ruins take on an almost fantastical vibe, and no matter where they may find themselves in the city, Walker and his men have seem to always be on the descent.
Beyond providing chest-high cover to duck behind, Spec Ops' environments do occasionally have a direct influence on gameplay. The most prominent example is the option to occasionally bury an ill-positioned enemy in sand by shooting out a vent or window. This isn't a terribly exciting feature, but it's still a nice permutation of the exploding barrels concept; the effect is ultimately the same, but it's integration is a lot less conspicuous. Far more entertaining, and far more underutilized, are the game's sandstorm sequences, which have you making a mad dash towards safety while contending with your remaining foes and poor visibility. As far as the action goes, these are the game's most intense and inspired moments, making the fact that there are only three or four of them throughout the eight-hour campaign rather disappointing.
Much like the visuals, there is an extreme attention to detail in the game's sound department. Most importantly, the voice-acting is phenomenal. Though it's become rather exhausting to hear Nolan North provide the voice for about half gaming's protagonists, he, and every other actor that lends their talents does a great job. The dynamic writing that fuels the script furthers the power of its dialogue; Spec Ops might be the first game I've ever played to feature ambient dialogue that changes based on the characters' state of mind. Initially, for example, characters will indicate that combat sections have ended by giving a simple "All clear." Conversely, later sections of the game will see the characters communicating the same ideas in much more blunt, brutal ways. This might seem like a small aspect of the game's presentation, and it admittedly is, but this sort of emergent and dynamic dialogue has never been done before, and once again, this minimal detail is just one more pillar that supports this game's grand themes.
Aside from your two squadmates, your most prominent companion in Spec Ops the Radioman. Having set up speakers all over Dubai, he provides a running commentary that's equal parts funny, intriguing, and disturbing. However, he also subjects you to his musical taste, which largely includes popular classic rock tracks from the 1960s and 70s. These are clearly implemented as a means of recalling Apocalypse Now's juxtaposition of cheery, sometimes angsty radio tunes with all sorts of bleak scenarios, but just doesn't work here simply due to the fact that Spec Ops doesn't actually take place in the 60s or 70s; death metal and hip-hop might not have the same sort of cinematic appeal, but they'd certainly be more fitting. Thankfully, in another film-inspired move (this time lifted from the works of Michael Mann), the game gets its act together towards the end switches its soundtrack over to some moody post-rock tunes.
Having gone over basically everything else, I've inevitably arrived at having to talk about Spec Ops: The Line's critical flaw. Whereas its campaign sets out to display and critique the machismo-driven, single-mindedness and manipulation that underlies a number of modern action titles, Spec Ops' multiplayer wholeheartedly embraces the development philosophies its other (and better) half demonizes The litany of unlocks and character customization options are uninteresting and the game modes are all similarly bland - not that it matters since everyone just plays team deathmatch anyway. It all feel like what a less daring developer would see as requisite - a series of boxes that needs to be checked in order to have their game achieve success in today's military shooter market. The problem is that Yager have proven themselves to be quite daring, and considering the singleplayer portion of their game is highly confrontational toward its peers, the inclusion of this sort of multiplayer is extremely problematic. All might've been forgiving if the game's mechanics were as slick, fun and satisfying as, say, Gears of War, but they aren't. Looking at Spec Ops purely as a shooter, with it's immense narrative and superb presentation torn away from it, the experience is rather substandard. The audacious craftsmanship that allowed its singleplayer campaign to be intense and memorable despite not being traditionally fun simply isn't present in the game's multiplayer component.
I've heard some critics say it's unfair to have the game's multiplayer weigh down its significance and meaning as an overall package, but as much as I'd like to focus purely on Spec Ops' singleplayer portion, its overly-traditional and thoroughly unimpressive multiplayer experience provides quite a conundrum. In any other game, this exact online component could be written off as forgettable or tacked-on, but its inclusion in Spec Ops is so contradictory that it comes as a notable detriment to its developer's vision. Long story short, when a developer refers to their own multiplayer mode as a "cancerous growth," you know it's not worth playing.
Whether or not a video game needs to be fun to be great is a topic that been long debated. It's easy to be inclined to lean towards the side of letting games remain the only purely fun popular entertainment medium, since no doubt most of the images that pop into people's minds when they think of their favorites are some immensely entertaining games. But as incredible as titles like Ocarina of Time, Half-Life, or San Andreas (or what have you) are, they don't provide much diversity in terms of core concepts and design. Though each game features wildly different aesthetics and narrative, they, and most classic games, are built around exploration, triumphing over obstacles, and providing players with a sense of empowerment and accomplishment. Distilling these games down to this formula certainly doesn't capture their quality, but it easily demonstrates how few alternative ideas and designs the gaming industry has tapped into.
Spec Ops: The Line is one of a select group of successful attempts to break free from the mold, and it does so namely by flipping the aforementioned formula on its head; the game features little-to-no exploration, overcoming the game's twisted challenges will make you feel terrible rather than rewarded, and it actively disempowers you in ways that would be to spoilerific to delve into. Add to that a set of core mechanics that aren't all that engaging, and Spec Ops is a thoroughly unfun game. But that doesn't stop it from being one of the most striking, riveting and memorable singleplayer gaming experiences out there. This is simply because every facet of the game (save its disappointing multiplayer) is built with the express purpose of crafting an excellent narrative, and even though traditional fun is sacrificed in the name of driving home its central themes, the message that Spec Ops ultimately delivers hits hard. I, for one, will likely never look at a shooter in the same way again, and that's as good an indication as there could possibly be of Spec Ops' success.