Mass Effect

My first pass at Mass Effect, some time back, left me wanting - I expected a sci-fi action romp, and got a mouth full of dialog instead. Recently, talk of the upcoming sequel has gotten me pretty interested, so I decided to give it another shot; this time, a couple hours in, my impressions are different ... somewhat.

I'm both practically and philosophically bothered by Mass Effect's tantalizing, yet limited freedom of expression. A ridiculous amount of customization options and in-game decisions should enable me to live the dream: pretend I am a spacefaring war hero, shooting stupid aliens, spitting on politicians' shoes, nailing hot intergalactic tail. But when a councilman asks me what I think, there's no Tell Him How To Do His Job option in the dialog wheel. And I can't press a significant NPC if he doesn't want to talk. Mass Effect doesn't let me do what I want: it lets me lean the way I want, within its narrow parameters. Why tease me by pretending I have a real choice?

It's somewhat ironic for BioWare, Lords of the Modern RPG, to damn the sins of JRPG tropes and extol the virtues of "real storytelling." Shepard has equipment and an item pack. Shepard has party members and menu commands. Shepard talks to vapid NPCs and examines treasure chests. Shepard levels up and allocates talent points. Shepard follows linear paths and corridors, with occasional breaks for dialog and sidequests.

Don't get me wrong: I like the game, to an extent. Mass Effect's stat-based gunplay isn't as engaging as the Borderlands', but it's grown on me. And far be it from me to turn down fuckin' spaceships. It just disappoints me that, when I'm chatting with aliens instead of shooting them, Mass Effect feels like Final Fantasy in space. Which is to say, it feels like Star Ocean.

Progress: The Citadel