I'll admit, it took a little while for me to come around to Lee. I certainly never disliked him, but compared to characters like Clementine or Kenny, I found that I wasn't connecting with him much throughout the first episode. "Why, that's absurd. Lee was the best video game protagonist of 2012," I hear you saying, and trust me, I totally agree. (Mind you, I unfortunately still have yet to play Spec Ops: The Line, in case that statement rattled any cages.) But though the subsequent episodes proved more than enough to win me over, I can't help but retain the misgivings I had with the first episode's general approach toward Lee's characterization. The problem wasn't Lee's character per se, but how it was implemented.
There are two basic types of video game protagonists: Proper characters, with unique motivations and personality traits potentially distinct from those of the player (Kratos, Sonic, Batman [and any other protagonist whose character has already been established in external media], etc.), and player stand-ins. The intricacies of interactive storytelling make both hard to pull off, but the latter in particular can come off as lazy, and is ill-suited to a lot of genres. The most prominent exception (rivaled only by first-person games, where the impression that the player is the protagonist is reinforced by the very perspective) is the RPG, especially the type that features dialogue trees wherein the player dictates what choices the character makes - and, by extension, is made to determine the very nature of that character. The Walking Dead isn't an RPG, obviously, but it's also not quite an adventure game in the traditional sense, which are popularly focused on a combination of exploration and puzzle-solving. The Walking Dead has those elements, but that's not what you play it for; the heart of its gameplay experience is progressing through the dialogue trees and thereby driving the story forward in different ways. True, the general plot stays the same regardless of what choices you make, but altering what parts of the story that you can remains your primary means of interacting with the game's world. Even in, say, Mass Effect, where your choices can have a greater effect on the game's plot, it is balanced out by the fact that the combat and RPG level-up elements are roughly as integral to the gameplay experience as the dialogue trees. As far as the player's actions are concerned, however, The Walking Dead is unmistakably a game that's principally about making choices. With that in mind...
But as I said, I grew to like Lee a lot as the game went on, because this sort of thing didn't keep occurring, which meant that Lee's experiences became synonymous with my own. Even when the issue of his past came up again, it allowed me to choose my own course of action about the matter (namely, who I should talk to about it), which kept further disconnects from forming. With one notable exception...
So, Escapists, what are your thoughts? Did anyone else have the same issues with these moments that I did, or do you feel I'm wrong in some way? And what are some other situations in The Walking Dead or other dialogue tree games that didn't provide you the option you wanted or were problematic in some other way?
There are two basic types of video game protagonists: Proper characters, with unique motivations and personality traits potentially distinct from those of the player (Kratos, Sonic, Batman [and any other protagonist whose character has already been established in external media], etc.), and player stand-ins. The intricacies of interactive storytelling make both hard to pull off, but the latter in particular can come off as lazy, and is ill-suited to a lot of genres. The most prominent exception (rivaled only by first-person games, where the impression that the player is the protagonist is reinforced by the very perspective) is the RPG, especially the type that features dialogue trees wherein the player dictates what choices the character makes - and, by extension, is made to determine the very nature of that character. The Walking Dead isn't an RPG, obviously, but it's also not quite an adventure game in the traditional sense, which are popularly focused on a combination of exploration and puzzle-solving. The Walking Dead has those elements, but that's not what you play it for; the heart of its gameplay experience is progressing through the dialogue trees and thereby driving the story forward in different ways. True, the general plot stays the same regardless of what choices you make, but altering what parts of the story that you can remains your primary means of interacting with the game's world. Even in, say, Mass Effect, where your choices can have a greater effect on the game's plot, it is balanced out by the fact that the combat and RPG level-up elements are roughly as integral to the gameplay experience as the dialogue trees. As far as the player's actions are concerned, however, The Walking Dead is unmistakably a game that's principally about making choices. With that in mind...
In the opening scene, the driver's dialogue seemed to be implying that Lee was innocent. Which is all well and good, since the average player of The Walking Dead can be reasonably expected to have never murdered anyone. But not long afterwards, it's revealed that the officer was just outright wrong. To tell the truth, my initial assumption was not that the officer was necessarily right, but that the player's course of action would determine whether or not Lee was actually guilty. It's not as though the choice, if offered, would have necessitated radical changes to the plot depending on which option players took, since the whole issue didn't affect the actual plot all that much anyway.
It's at this point that the distinction between the two types of game protagonists becomes important, because The Walking Dead was essentially trying to make Lee both an autonomous character and a player stand-in at the same time. As I mentioned, making him innocent without the player being able to choose otherwise would have worked much better than making him guilty without another option to choose from, because the overwhelming majority of players have never committed homicide; forcing that character trait on him is little different than having him only able to speak in a foreign language, or something of the sort. This would all be acceptable in a normal game narrative, but as I previously described, the core of The Walking Dead is making choices. Lee having killed a man didn't reflect my player agency, and that created a disconnect where there shouldn't have been one (even though the fact that it was an accident did help alleviate it).
Similarly, I could only empathize so much over the plotline of Lee finding out his family has been killed. For one, my family hasn't been eaten by zombies, so I can't automatically relate to the situation on that level. I could have been made sad by the character deaths themselves, except their demise was basically my introduction to them; a more effective approach would have been to open the game with an extended section where Lee goes about his everyday life and holds interactions with his family, allowing me to get to know and like them on a personal level (as happens with the other characters in the game). Finally, I could have empathized because I knew and liked Lee as a character, and was pained by his sorrow. The problem goes back to the issue of his past and my lack of input there. I was caught off guard by the revelation that he was guilty after all, and the aforementioned disconnect between the two of us made me feel like I couldn't depend on what I thought I knew about him. So when his heart-to-heart with his zombified brother came along, it essentially felt like I was observing a conversation between two strangers. I cared, of course, but I knew even as the scene played out that I didn't care as much as the game expected me to.
It's at this point that the distinction between the two types of game protagonists becomes important, because The Walking Dead was essentially trying to make Lee both an autonomous character and a player stand-in at the same time. As I mentioned, making him innocent without the player being able to choose otherwise would have worked much better than making him guilty without another option to choose from, because the overwhelming majority of players have never committed homicide; forcing that character trait on him is little different than having him only able to speak in a foreign language, or something of the sort. This would all be acceptable in a normal game narrative, but as I previously described, the core of The Walking Dead is making choices. Lee having killed a man didn't reflect my player agency, and that created a disconnect where there shouldn't have been one (even though the fact that it was an accident did help alleviate it).
Similarly, I could only empathize so much over the plotline of Lee finding out his family has been killed. For one, my family hasn't been eaten by zombies, so I can't automatically relate to the situation on that level. I could have been made sad by the character deaths themselves, except their demise was basically my introduction to them; a more effective approach would have been to open the game with an extended section where Lee goes about his everyday life and holds interactions with his family, allowing me to get to know and like them on a personal level (as happens with the other characters in the game). Finally, I could have empathized because I knew and liked Lee as a character, and was pained by his sorrow. The problem goes back to the issue of his past and my lack of input there. I was caught off guard by the revelation that he was guilty after all, and the aforementioned disconnect between the two of us made me feel like I couldn't depend on what I thought I knew about him. So when his heart-to-heart with his zombified brother came along, it essentially felt like I was observing a conversation between two strangers. I cared, of course, but I knew even as the scene played out that I didn't care as much as the game expected me to.
But as I said, I grew to like Lee a lot as the game went on, because this sort of thing didn't keep occurring, which meant that Lee's experiences became synonymous with my own. Even when the issue of his past came up again, it allowed me to choose my own course of action about the matter (namely, who I should talk to about it), which kept further disconnects from forming. With one notable exception...
This is a lot more personal and subjective, but I can't be the only one out there who fully intended to help Clementine search for her parents, can I? Yeah, it's dangerous, but so's everything else you do in the game. More importantly, Clementine's wellbeing was my primary motivation by far for everything I was doing. With the world as I once knew it having ended and everything else I might have cared about gone, keeping myself alive purely for my own sake was - as with my own life - more an obligation than an actual desire; my concern for Clementine was more or less the one thing keeping me going. I empathized with her desire to find her parents because they essentially meant to her what she meant to me. If she was prepared to put her life at risk in pursuit of that goal regardless of the probability that her parents were already dead, I was totally willing to do the same.
When the game gave me no other option but to refuse, I was as upset with Lee as Clementine was. This was late enough in the game that it wasn't enough to cause a radical upset in the way I viewed Lee in the same way as it happened in Chapter 1, and the moment where Clementine finally breaks down and cries was pulled off far too well for my emotional involvement to suffer. But even so, it stood out. It also represents what I view as the game's biggest missed opportunity. As the game stands, the only available sequence of events is for you to refuse Clementine's request and later wake up to find that she's gone to look for them on her own. But not only would the option to abandon the rest of the group for the sake of helping her provide a source of drama between you and the other characters, but imagine how the search for Clementine's parents might go. Picture this: The two of you are scouring the city, being as careful as you can, when suddenly an errant zombie or two cause things to go south. You try your best to fight off the advancing hordes, but you realize too late that the Stranger's been tailing you the whole time, and he seizes his chance to steal away Clementine amidst the confusion. You manage to break away from the fight, but he's already long gone. You return to the house to tell everyone that Clementine's been kidnapped, and the rest of the plot proceeds as normal. Best of all, during your final confrontation, the Stranger would be able to call you out on endangering Clementine's life and being directly responsible for losing her.
When the game gave me no other option but to refuse, I was as upset with Lee as Clementine was. This was late enough in the game that it wasn't enough to cause a radical upset in the way I viewed Lee in the same way as it happened in Chapter 1, and the moment where Clementine finally breaks down and cries was pulled off far too well for my emotional involvement to suffer. But even so, it stood out. It also represents what I view as the game's biggest missed opportunity. As the game stands, the only available sequence of events is for you to refuse Clementine's request and later wake up to find that she's gone to look for them on her own. But not only would the option to abandon the rest of the group for the sake of helping her provide a source of drama between you and the other characters, but imagine how the search for Clementine's parents might go. Picture this: The two of you are scouring the city, being as careful as you can, when suddenly an errant zombie or two cause things to go south. You try your best to fight off the advancing hordes, but you realize too late that the Stranger's been tailing you the whole time, and he seizes his chance to steal away Clementine amidst the confusion. You manage to break away from the fight, but he's already long gone. You return to the house to tell everyone that Clementine's been kidnapped, and the rest of the plot proceeds as normal. Best of all, during your final confrontation, the Stranger would be able to call you out on endangering Clementine's life and being directly responsible for losing her.
So, Escapists, what are your thoughts? Did anyone else have the same issues with these moments that I did, or do you feel I'm wrong in some way? And what are some other situations in The Walking Dead or other dialogue tree games that didn't provide you the option you wanted or were problematic in some other way?
