Why Open Worlds Game Suck

As a seasoned gamer, I find myself often immersed in vast open worlds, dedicating countless hours – be it 40, 80, or even 120 – to outwit the heinous schemes of my adversaries.

Your reliable comrade states, “Hurry, or we all face disaster.” Along our journey towards the confrontation, a small exclamation point appears on the roadside.

Next thing you know, you are halfway across the map combing a field for a random item.

In the meantime, while your arch-nemesis is relaxing by sipping tea and engaging in a game of poker with their associates, they have temporarily halted their wicked schemes, apparently waiting for your arrival.

That feeling of urgency you had may not have held significant weight after all, regardless of how hard you tried to make it seem important.

It’s likely that out of the 100 hours available in your open-world game, dear player, just about one-fifth is spent progressing the narrative significantly.

Generally speaking, the root problem lies in game creators and managers often mistakenly opting for an open-world design when such a format isn’t necessary.

Open World As A Problem

It seems like your interpretation is that all open-world games are problematic. However, I’d like to clarify that my statement was not about the inherent goodness or badness of open-world games. Instead, I suggested that many contemporary story-driven large open-world games could be more effective if they were designed as shorter, linear experiences.

One common justification for open-world games is their potential for repeated play, yet generally, what you encounter are vast expanses of visually stunning but deserted landscapes, or an environment overflowing with insignificant side missions that seem almost non-existent.

Most players, during their second playthrough of Final Fantasy XV, probably won’t be assisting a biologist in catching frogs instead of focusing on putting out the burning world.

In many cases, when developers create a breathtaking world and atmosphere, the final story’s impact may fall short in comparison to the effort invested in building that world.

In general, role-playing games (RPGs) and survival titles often thrive when designed as open-world games. This setup allows you to write your own narrative or adapt to the challenges the game presents in order to survive.

Despite this, expansive game environments often require creators to walk a fine line between creating an immersive experience and adding unnecessary content.

It’s possible to interpret this situation as a clever symbol of human life, where you’re spending time on a game that seems like a waste, but maybe there are more productive ways to spend your time instead?

Finding The Sweet Spot

Titles for action games may exhibit unique qualities, yet they adhere to the universal principle governing all video games: to function effectively, games must engage and captivate their players.

You need a compelling setting, an interesting story, and gameplay that complements it.

Creating a consistent atmosphere throughout the story can be challenging, especially when there’s a large expanse of approximately 60 square kilometers to fill with details.

In my opinion, no other game has managed to harmoniously blend the liberty of exploration with a compelling narrative rhythm quite like Metro Exodus. This epic adventure offers six distinct maps, three of which are strictly linear, while the remaining trio presents a more open-ended environment for me to navigate.

Instead of hurrying straight to your objective without pause, take time to listen to your comrades who provide crucial information about potential sites along the route that could prove useful to investigate or circumvent.

Exploration in Metro Exodus offers a balance of high rewards and potential dangers, providing ample depth to the narrative. In this game, you can choose whether to focus on your crew’s objective without interacting much with locals or to take a more compassionate approach, doing what you believe is right.

Games such as “Metro Exodus” thrive due to their alignment with key teachings from Albert Camus’ 1942 novel, “The Stranger.” In the same vein as the book’s protagonist Mersault, the player’s actions and inactions have far-reaching impacts on other characters’ lives, and the outcome is a direct result of the choices made throughout the game.

As an avid gamer, I’ve noticed that many open-world games aim to create intricate action-reaction mechanics, but often, they fail to deliver on this promise.

As a gamer, let me give you an instance from “Fallout 3”. After roaming through endless wastelands, it seems like my comrades are pushing me towards a fate of radiation sickness. They believe that’s the path I should walk, not one they wish for themselves.

While the game offers a DLC that enhances it somewhat, it seems unfair to charge an extra $10 for good writing, as anyone should be able to display courage without having to pay more for the game to acknowledge it.

Less Is More

Indeed, it’s not going to be a secret that designing a captivating gameplay experience with genuine ramifications can prove challenging. Often, it’s more a question of the unattainable than the merely improbable in many games.

It’s not essential to create a gigantic open world filled with numerous conversation choices and advancement routes for a game to be excellent.

Many gamers find satisfaction in allowing the game to dictate choices for them, as long as these selections align with the narrative’s framework. It’s an added advantage: observing other players’ decision-making processes offers a fresh perspective, revealing various strategies used to tackle similar situations.

In 2010’s Medal of Honor, I found myself in a situation where my unit lead ordered a daring rescue mission against all odds. No prompt appeared for me to press any key or make a choice; instead, I leaped out of the helicopter, feeling the rush and adrenaline that came with it. It was an immersive experience that made me feel like a real soldier, not just a gamer picking from identical options.

On the earth below, there is just a single course leading to the goal, yet you get to choose whether your approach will be covert and subtle or direct and forceful, based on your level of stealth ability.

The game is essentially akin to “DOOM Guy Battles The Taliban“, given its highly structured stages. However, the narrative and performances within the game were impactful enough to leave me in a state of astonishment upon completion.

Even though it boasts over 80 hours of gameplay and a vast map, the emotional impact of STALKER 2 was significantly less for me compared to another game, which offered more emotional depth despite shorter playtime due to minimal narrative development during extended treks from location A to B.

As more gamers share their emotional gaming experiences, it’s becoming clearer that games with compelling narratives, rather than massive open worlds, tend to evoke tears. While epic open-world games like “Red Dead Redemption 2” stand out as exceptional cases, they are not the norm when it comes to stirring up emotions in players.

The last game that made me cry was This War of Mine, a 2GB sidescroller where you struggle to survive in a devastated city after bombings. In a similar vein, Signalis is a highly linear game that packs quite an emotional punch.

While it’s certainly impressive to engage an entire subsidiary studio for the creation of a stunning open world, it’s important to remember that what truly sets games apart is their narrative.

A significant reason for enjoyable repeat plays is the longing to relive a series of feelings once more; if you intersperse moments of narrative excitement with fetch tasks and repetitive crafting systems, you are diluting the essence of today’s most impactful storytelling methods.

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2025-03-08 20:18