Far Cry 2 Diary

I ran over a zebra today. As someone who has only seen a few in his lifetime and even then only behind safety fencing, this struck me as fairly ludicrous. Of course, this wasn't in person, it was in Far Cry 2, but having large African wildlife dash out in front of my beat-up (and fascinatingly, branded) Jeep Wrangler as I barreled down a makeshift road is a strange experience. Especially because playing a game that uses something, anything but the Unreal Engine has incredible impact on immersion.

Far Cry 2 is at once a beautiful and ugly game. The lighting and flora and fauna and landscapes are easily some of the most incredible looking things I've ever seen in a game. Cross over into any human-populated area, though, and suddenly I find myself mourning the loss of wildlife.

And thank god for those rare moments of zen-like relief when you can escape from the man-made roads and drive off into the desert, admiring the scenery, because the game is brutal. The makers of this game have some serious balls to make a game that is so incredibly oppressive to play. Weapons break constantly, your malaria infection tends to lead to inopportune deaths, and you're ambushed every quarter mile on the road. The game takes a definite toll on you, especially in the first handful of hours.

Requiring putting a handful of hours into a FPS before it even becomes enjoyable is an incredible risk. This isn't a game like Fallout 3 which is an RPG masquerading as an FPS, but an honest to god open world FPS, a genre whose history lends itself towards instant gratification.

The only good comparison I can think of is to certain movies. Sam Peckinpah's Straw Dogs is a harsh, painful movie to watch. Even the eventual release at the end is bittersweet and not wholly satisfying. The act of watching the movie is a trial and the reward is the emotional response, good or bad, and analysis it provokes.

Far Cry 2 is also a trial. Its ultimate reward seems to be a sense of contentment; not with fun, even though there is eventually some of that, but a sense of playing something unique and genuinely interesting and thought provoking. The story isn't the thought-provoking part, either, despite the blatant references to Conrad's Heart of Darkness. It's the process of game development, the fact that the best stories in the game are the ones that happen spontaneously, and the sense of immersion.

So maybe a beautiful example of African wildlife had to die at my hands for me to step back and realize how amazing what I'm playing truly is. The game definitely has its share of real problems but it's these moments of utter amazement that will ultimately stay with me.