
Next time you start telling somebody about a game you were playing — not a puzzle game or anything equally abstract — pay attention to how you refer to what you were doing in the game. Are you saying, “Then I jumped on the goomba!” or are you saying, “Then my guy jumped on the goomba!” Is it you finding the boomerang or is it Link? Are you driving the car, making the basket, managing the farm? Or is it your proxy, that little character walking about when you push a button to the right, that window meant to be a human being’s field of vision? As much as I thought about open worlds in 2008, I spent just as much time wondering what role character plays in great game design. A great game character doesn’t need to be one specific thing. It can be you, a literal representation of how you see yourself physically and even spiritually. It can also be a suit for you to put on, a fiction that you can inhabit, a doorway into story that isn’t just different from your daily life, but quite literally impossible. There was no shortage of astounding games in 2008, but there were a handful that, for me, were wholly defined by how they let you inhabit their characters, and characters made both for and by the player.
In my first look back at ’08, I mentioned how it was character that ultimately kept me from getting the most out of Grand Theft Auto IV. There was just too much dissonance in how Niko Bellic was represented. There were three Nikos. There was the Niko you see speaking in cutscenes, a haunted, practical man of honor, making a new life for himself in a new country by hunting down the demons of his past. There was the Niko you guided through the game’s structured missions, a ruthless, opportunistic murderer who would destroy anything and anyone for a buck. And, finally, the Niko that you played, the blank slate who could do anything in Liberty City, whether it was enjoying a nice walk on the beach or assaulting an international airport with nothing more than a motorcycle and a baseball bat. At no point in GTAIV did these three Nikos meld into a single character, and the constant contradictions between them made it impossible for me to enjoy the game after a certain point.
Metal Gear Solid 4 and Yakuza 2 (my absolute favorite game of 2008) were two of last year’s greatest achievements precisely because they didn’t fall prey to GTAIV’s representational failures. Both games are concerned with narrative — unchangeable, locked, and passively engaged narrative in both cases — but when you, as the player, take control of Old Snake and Kazuma Kiriyu, the actual play is designed to reinforce and serve those characters. The game is literally about them and thusly, depending on what type of player you are, they are about you. It impressed me to no end that, in both games,
this was sufficient incentive to keep playing; I always wanted to know what was going to happen to Kiriyu and Snake. It’s convenient, then, that the play in both games was every bit as good as their mutual cutscenes were long. MGS4’s stealth and action finally felt organic after a decade of refinement and, of the hundreds of things you can do in Yakuza 2, even the most mundane were entertaining. (Selecting booze from an in-game menu and then reading about how it tastes? Awesome.)
The World Ends With You (my second favorite game of the year) utilized character just as effectively as Yakuza and Metal Gear, but in a much different way. TWEWY is an expertly designed game, flush with color and mechanical delights. No other game released in 2008, not Fallout 3, not anything, gave you as many options for customization as TWEWY did. You can, at any point, fundamentally change the flow of the game by altering its settings and your characters' attacks/apparel. What impresses me most about TWEWY, and what’s made the most lasting impression, is that the game doesn’t hook you into its story or battles through a single lead character or even an ever expanding cast of usable characters, as is the norm for role-playing games. TWEWY grabs you by framing every action in the game and story around a principal character’s relationship with their second. Not only does Neku grow as a person through his relationships with his partners, but the game layers complexity and nuance into its actual activities as a result of personal growth. Your role in the game isn’t Neku, his friends, or even a sort narrator (another RPG commonality.) You play the bond between characters. There’s nothing else like it.

Had I played and finished Fallout 3 before 2008 ended, it would most likely be included here at the end alongside Fable II and Soulcalibur IV, games that put the burden of character directly on you. But I didn’t, so more kudos to Fable and Soulcalibur. These two couldn’t be more different, but they share one distinct strength: they both allow you to mold character to an absurd degree. Soulcalibur IV is the best version of one of the best fighting games made, and its core character design, as is the case with fighting games in general, is half of its appeal. Its character creation mode, however, is the star of the show. Point me to a single other game that’s as versatile and accessible in letting you make a body to inhabit a game and have fun with. I’ll wait. Some people called Soulcalibur IV a let down. They are wrong. Fable II, on the other hand, doesn’t give you a whole lot to play with when it comes to making your character look how you want them to. There are far fewer costumes, hair styles, and other variables than there were in its predecessor. But Peter Molyneux finally delivered a game that allowed you to be a person of complex morality. Fable isn’t an unmitigated success. Its illusion of simulated society is often crippled by familiar boundaries (you can’t bring x person to x locale, etc.) and it’s far too easy to manipulate the NPC masses through simple actions. Despite its imperfections, the game does break the dualism that has dominated moral-choice-as-mechanic in games previously. You can be good but corrupt, bad but pure. The game fails because your character’s nature isn’t always reflected in the world around them, but it’s a monumentally important step forward and deserving of both praise and canonization.
I’ll be wrapping up 2008 once and for all in a couple of days. In the meantime, if you haven’t played any of these, what the hell are you waiting for?
Games of 2008: Yakuza 2, Metal Gear Solid 4, The World Ends With You, Fable II, Soulcalibur IV
Related links:
John’s Games of 2008: Year of the Open World
10 Games Nadia Played in 2008 Instead of Working
Joe’s Top Ten Games of 2008
My Top 10 of 2008 in No Particular Order
Derrick's Top 13 Games of 2008