Torment must surely now give Bioshock, the Void and Braid a run for their money as the best game I played this year. This is what computer roleplaying games should always have been, and yet what they never have. It stands alone as a true roleplaying experience. You control who you are, and who you are really matters, because Torment is also packing a hell of a story. A richly thematic story about identity.
You wake up with no memory, and a few scant clues to your past life, and you strike out to learn who you were, and how you came back from the dead. But your search for your past presents dilemmas, and how you solve them says much about you, and a new question starts to become apparent. Who you were matters, but perhaps what matters more is who you are now. And if those two people aren't the same, well, doesn't that beg another question?
Opportunities to carve out your identity present themselves at every turn; the game is rich with layers and paths you can take, and it's all richly presented. The writing in the game is among the best in the genre - perhaps THE best. Certain dialogue scenes, not even voiced, are a greater thrill than any cutscene in Final Fantasy or Dragon Age. The story plays itself out with a perfectly measured pace, first unwinding mysteries steadily, letting the questions drawing you in one direction, then another, then beginning to drop revelations, twists, and turns - and some of the reveals are truly striking - before you emerge from a pivotal encounter with a goal in sight, and all of your answers - except for one, catalysed to seek out your destiny and show who you truly are once and for all.
The Planescape setting is one of the most vibrant and imaginative presented for D&D, and given license to make a game with it, it is to the boundless credit of Chris Avellone and his team that they sought to match its creativity, rather than carve and staid a traditional path through it. In a world where belief affects reality and creatures from an infinite number of worlds gather in the pub, Avellone and co capitalised fully on the richness of a universe prone to its own identity crises, and told the story of a man, and everything that could mean.
It's a nearly perfect game. It manages to transcend almost every flaw of the classic Infinity Engine system. Even the 1. 2. 3. dialogue boxes seem to fade from view under the strength of writing. It briefly stumbles when you take an excursion from Sigil, the central city, to some of the surrounding planes. In these places some of its fetch-quest, hack-n-slash roots briefly show, albeit still dressed in a phenomenally colourful trimming. This is the one and only time the game ever tired me, and otherwise I remained completely engrossed. I could, even now, go back and play through it again, and despite knowing its secrets from the start, despite having only just completed it, the opportunity to seek new answers to its questions would hold interest. I'll be sure that I do play it again a couple of years down the line, when memory has dimmed a little, and I'm sure I'll be transfixed a game.
This is what RPGs should be. This is what they never have been. A nearly perfect game. 9/10
Only one question remains...
You wake up with no memory, and a few scant clues to your past life, and you strike out to learn who you were, and how you came back from the dead. But your search for your past presents dilemmas, and how you solve them says much about you, and a new question starts to become apparent. Who you were matters, but perhaps what matters more is who you are now. And if those two people aren't the same, well, doesn't that beg another question?
Opportunities to carve out your identity present themselves at every turn; the game is rich with layers and paths you can take, and it's all richly presented. The writing in the game is among the best in the genre - perhaps THE best. Certain dialogue scenes, not even voiced, are a greater thrill than any cutscene in Final Fantasy or Dragon Age. The story plays itself out with a perfectly measured pace, first unwinding mysteries steadily, letting the questions drawing you in one direction, then another, then beginning to drop revelations, twists, and turns - and some of the reveals are truly striking - before you emerge from a pivotal encounter with a goal in sight, and all of your answers - except for one, catalysed to seek out your destiny and show who you truly are once and for all.
The Planescape setting is one of the most vibrant and imaginative presented for D&D, and given license to make a game with it, it is to the boundless credit of Chris Avellone and his team that they sought to match its creativity, rather than carve and staid a traditional path through it. In a world where belief affects reality and creatures from an infinite number of worlds gather in the pub, Avellone and co capitalised fully on the richness of a universe prone to its own identity crises, and told the story of a man, and everything that could mean.
It's a nearly perfect game. It manages to transcend almost every flaw of the classic Infinity Engine system. Even the 1. 2. 3. dialogue boxes seem to fade from view under the strength of writing. It briefly stumbles when you take an excursion from Sigil, the central city, to some of the surrounding planes. In these places some of its fetch-quest, hack-n-slash roots briefly show, albeit still dressed in a phenomenally colourful trimming. This is the one and only time the game ever tired me, and otherwise I remained completely engrossed. I could, even now, go back and play through it again, and despite knowing its secrets from the start, despite having only just completed it, the opportunity to seek new answers to its questions would hold interest. I'll be sure that I do play it again a couple of years down the line, when memory has dimmed a little, and I'm sure I'll be transfixed a game.
This is what RPGs should be. This is what they never have been. A nearly perfect game. 9/10
Only one question remains...
What can change the nature of a man?
1 comment:
Torment had an uncanny ability among video games. The power to evoke emotion.
And my answer is the same as the last time you asked, broken man.
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