BioShock Infinite built up an unhealthy amount of hype and
expectations over the three years since it was announced. Some are calling it a
masterpiece while others are dismissing the game as mediocre. This article aims
to ignore the hype and critically review what Infinite does right and what it
lacks.
The first time I strolled though one of Columbia’s charming
squares, I was reminded of Disneyland’s Main Street USA. Columbia’s vibrant
color scheme, quaint architecture, and angelic citizens seem heavily inspired
by Walt’s fantasy of a perfect America. But its Columbia’s additional charm
like buildings creaking and swaying in the breeze, zeppelins bustling about
their business, and cargo zipping overhead on skylines that sets BioShock
Infinite apart from anything seen before. Columbia is stuffed with details like
this that transforms this otherwise bizarre setting to a believable and fully
realized world.
This level of detail is equally transferred to Infinite’s art
style. Though Infinite may not be as technically superior as its competitors,
it is still one of the most visually stunning games I’ve played. There’s rarely
a poster not worth studying or a monument not worthy of being carefully
examined. Though every room may not have a collectable or consumable, each
space has its own charm and character. The craftsmanship of the buildings,
vigor bottles, and everything in between feels consistent in the world in which they
inhabit.
However, there are times when Columbia goes from taking
inspiration from a theme park to becoming one itself. Sections are relatively
linear, citizens ominously stare at Booker once they’ve completed their
dialogue queues, and some environments just feel fake. The beginning area in
Finkton for example, feels like a façade. What is supposed to be the harsh
labor District of Columbia is too pristine to be believed; everything looks too
perfect. Logs of wood are perfectly cut, stacked, and positioned at the side of
the road. Streets, walls, and buildings are free of grime or any sign of a hard
day’s work. There’s also a cartoonish clock that sounds and looks exactly like
something found in Toontown.
But perhaps depicting the ugliness of America’s past against the backdrop a seemingly perfect society is the point. However, sometimes this contrast of idyllic and horrific just doesn’t work for me and it detracts from the authenticity of the world.
Another area of contention I have with immersion in Infinite
is its atmospheric sound. There were a few moments during my play through where
the environment was dead silent when it shouldn’t be. The best example is on
Comstock’s Zeppelin before Booker and Elizebeth’s confrontation with him. When
Booker is out of combat on the airship, it’s almost completely quiet. Little to
no atmospheric sound is present during this level and I was surprised just how
fast I was taken out of the experience because of it.
While this may appear to be a borderline nitpick, compare
this to a level in the original BioShock at roughly the same point in the plot
(the level moments before the Andrew Ryan confrontation). Two videos are below
for reference. Pay close attention to the atmospheric sound in both games when
player is out of combat.
It’s clear that BioShock utilizes atmospheric sound to a
greater extent than Infinite does, which is a little disappointing. In
BioShock, there was tension in the air, anticipation of finally confronting
Ryan. The atmospheric sound really drove this tone by having Rapture’s thermal
reactor make sounds reminiscent of a countdown clock or a beating heart. The
sound of the crumbling walls was loud and ever-present to remind you that
Rapture is about to collapse. The entire game was leading up to this point and
BioShock’s atmospheric sound made that very clear.
During a similar moment in BioShock Infinite’s plot however,
sound is minimal and faint. Sure, the Zeppelin emits a faint hum and you can
hear its hull creaking every now and again, but it hardly compliments the
anticipation and tension the plot demands. I feel like I was missing the
fluttering sound of the Zeppelin’s propellers, the hissing and screeching of
the motors, the whistling of the wind, and the harrowing sound of a storm
brewing overhead. The flat-sounding atmosphere combined with the pristine
environment created a somewhat hollow experience and hampered my immersion in
this crucial point in the plot.
But these criticisms I’ve spend 500 words describing are
small and only apply to a few sections in the 10+ hour experience. The overall
level of creativity, vision, and execution is simply stunning and needs to be
commended. To be immersed in something this unique is refreshing and deserves
the highest praise in this stagnant industry regardless of its few
shortcomings.
Since atmospheric sound has already been discussed, this
section explores the two other pillars of video game audio, namely the music
and voice performance. Unlike most videogames, BioShock Infinite uses a range
of music to sell its plot and atmosphere to the player. From an original score
composed by Garry Schyman to period-piece music to modern-era songs, Infinite
adds tremendous depth to its world by utilizing this vast catalogue of music.
As with the other two BioShock scores, Schyman composes
another memorable and powerful score with Infinite. The soundtrack fits well
with Columbia and it compliments the many powerful moments throughout the
game’s plot. The reveal shot of Columbia and the entrance to a town square for
example, were accompanied with tracks that really fit the moment and setting.
One of my favorite tracks, Elizabeth, perfectly sums up the spectacle and
tragedy while also sounding unique to Columbia. While the majority of the
soundtrack is memorable, I found the combat music however to be repetitive and
tiresome to listen to, especially by the end of the game. In fact, I dreaded
hearing it, but I feel that’s caused more by the combat mechanics than the
competency of the music.
As for the period and modern music, it’s hard to criticize
it beyond if it fit well in Columbia or not. The period music, usually overheard
through a nearby radio, obviously fit well and further enhances the word’s
authenticity; it was also genuinely interesting to hear what music was like
back then. Most of the modern music, I must admit, was too subtle, obscure, or dated
for me to recognize. However, there were some songs, like the barber shop
quartet’s rendition of “God Only Knows”, which made Columbia feel eerily
familiar.
The voice performances in infinite were all superb, with
Troy Baker and Courtney Draper, who voiced Booker and Elizabeth respectively, stealing
the show. There’s nothing much more to say really, other than their
performances were very convincing. Troy succeeded at portraying just enough
emotion to establish Booker’s character while also providing room for player
interpretation and projection. Elizabeth’s progression throughout the game was
expertly delivered by Courtney and delivered a believable character as a
result.
As many critics and fans have already expressed, this is
Infinite’s weakest aspect. I played Infinite on Xbox 360 and found the controls
to be sluggish and “janky”; I’m not sure if this is translated to PC or other
platforms. As a regular FPS player, I found it bafflingly difficult to aim in
Infinite, making the gunplay largely unsatisfying. I’ve rarely encountered this
problem in Halo or any other Xbox FPS; perhaps it could be a frame rate issue.
In addition, the gun variety is pretty standard fair and no
gun stands out as memorable. I also had a difficult time deciphering between
the weapons of The Founders and Vox Populi. In fact, I had no idea there were
two sets of guns until very late in the game. Having two upgradable sets of essentially
the same weapon is a bizarre decision and it’s still unclear to me whether the
two sets have different characteristics. However, Vigors were more creative and
fun to use. Murder of the Crows, Undertow, and Return to Sender were neat
additions to the BioShock sandbox as they added fresh combat experiences alongside
the dull gunplay.
Aside from its uninspired gameplay and sloppy controls,
infinite’s combat can sometimes be pretty exhilarating. Speeding along a
skyline while dodging a Zeppelin’s bombardment, then hopping onto a nearby roof
to open a tear to shield you from its blasts is a completely new experience. The
skyline and tears for the most part redeem Infinite’s sloppy gunplay since they
offer fresh gameplay opportunities and are well executed throughout its combat
scenarios.
One particular aspect I think deserves recognition is how
Infinite tells its story using the strengths of this medium. As with the
original BioShock, environmental storytelling is back in full force with audio
diaries, posters, and other objects scattered throughout the world. But one of
its greatest feats is how it manages to tell its complex story without the use
of cut scenes. In fact, it’s because of this design decision that, I think,
makes Infinite’s story so memorable. Since this game relies on immersion to
such a great extent, telling this game’s beginning or ending via cut scene for
example, would be detrimental the experience.
There are some elements in Infinite’s story however, that feel
either underdeveloped or unconvincing. Specifically, Jerimiah Fink, who was one
of my favourite characters, died prematurely and his departure was overall
unsatisfying. Throughout Booker’s encounters with him, whether by loudspeaker
or telephone, Fink made the impression that he had a plan of some sort; he
seemed confident and always ahead of the game. He tempts Booker numerous times
to join him with an offer he wouldn’t be able to refuse. But in the end, none
of this materializes and then he’s killed, which is disappointing considering
he is one of the only sub-villains in the game.
An area where Infinite’s plot felt unconvincing was
Comstock’s real identity. It’s a cool concept and I understand what Levine and
his team were trying to achieve, but it didn’t feel authentic to me; it was
just such a stretch to believe. I couldn’t see how a baptism could change a somewhat
ordinary and relatable man to a religious extremist and American exceptionalist
that governs a floating city in the sky. I just couldn’t suspend my disbelief
to that extent after first viewing it and it took me out of the experience.
These criticisms aside however, BioShock Infinite’s
narrative must be experienced. I barely scratched the surface on what makes
this story so great; it’s creative, emotionally involving, thoughtful and
surprising. Simply put, this is the direction videogame storytelling needs to
go in.
This section discusses the cohesiveness of the game,
exploring how its atmosphere, sound, gameplay, and story interact to contribute
to, or distract from its engagement. If you’ve made it this far, it should be
no surprise that for the most part, Infinite is a gripping and powerful game.
Its atmosphere, sound, and story in particular create one of the most engaging
experiences in a while. However, there are moments in Infinite that disrupted
my engagement, sometimes significantly.
I’m aware this has been explored elsewhere, but Infinite’s
use of excessive and gruesome violence needs to be discussed. Though Infinite’s
ludonarrative dissonance didn’t distract me as much as it did others, my
initial reaction to heads exploding like popping balloons was not positive. Ken
Levine often talked about how startling imagery, like the opening scene in Blue
Velvet, was his inspiration for Infinite’s tone. This, I think, is one of
Infinite’s major failings. Not only is Infinite’s barbaric violence ineffective
at achieving this tone, it comes off as comical and misplaced. As soon as that
skyhook was ruthlessly jammed into the officer’s face, I was transported back
to a juvenile FPS and BioShock Infinite became a little less interesting.
Another -albeit small- issue that distracted from my
engagement was the vagueness of the writing, especially in the Voxophones.
Since Infinite’s story had to keep a good portion of information under wraps
until the last few moments of the game, many Voxophones had to be cryptic and
vague when referring to the main plot thread. This would be acceptable
if this were a rare occurrence, but I routinely found myself confused as to
what the characters were really saying. I don’t want to spend a lot of time
discussing this issue because it’s a small one, but I feel that BioShock
Infinite is more enjoyable the second time and I’m not entirely sure if that’s
a good or bad thing.
Lastly, I found the ending difficult to understand; there
was just too much exposition thrown at me during those last 15 minutes. Up
until that point, I had a pretty strong grasp on the story as I meticulously
scavenged every nook for collectables throughout the game. Those last moments
however left me confused; everything moved too fast. I sort-of understood most of what happened, but the ending wasn’t
near as effective as it could have been.
The ending’s problems stem from the baptism; it was introduced
too late in the game. The time between its introduction and the Booker-Comstock
reveal was roughly five minutes. The baptism and Booker’s refusal should’ve
been introduced earlier, allowing it to “sink in” as a significant moment in
Booker’s past. It’s a small adjustment, but one that would alleviate its
muddled exposition.
It’s been interesting watching the reactions to BioShock
Infinite. Some call it a masterpiece while others claim it’s simply mediocre.
Though I acknowledge and respect their opinions, I can’t help feel that these
reactions are due to the insane amount of hype that came with this game. It
seems like this baggage has caused Infinite to be overly praised or overly
criticised which is an odd and fascinating phenomena.
In my view, BioShock Infinite doesn’t reach perfection or
skim mediocrity. Rather, it’s a creative, immersive, and memorable achievement
with a few missteps. However, Infinite deserves full recognition for the risks
it takes, areas it explores, and vision it brings.
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