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| Japan, why do you always get the superior game covers? |
Although I don't want a certain active actor from the project to drop enough trivia and fun facts that may warp my impressions to the point I forget to be as impartial as possible. I do recommend watching Bryan's streams though. He's a cool guy.
Spoilers inbound!
Is There Really Player Choice in This Game?
Yes. Kind of.
At the very least, the game feels big enough in file-size and content that the $60 price tag is fairly reasonable. The digital version of Detroit: Become Human takes up a good 45GB on my Playstation 4 (making me exceptionally grateful I bought the PS4Pro) and the script is reportedly massive. If an average film script is about ~150 to 200 pages, Detroit's is nearly 4,000 pages long. Either that's a sign of a bloated project, confident ambition, or both.
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| Sometimes being nice leads to disaster. |
One credit I do give Detroit: Become Human is that the final three chapters have the greatest amount of variation depending on who's alive, how strong their relationships are, and how the player decides how to navigate through the chaotic rollercoaster ride that is the climax. Sometimes you may think you did everything right, only to make a single choice in the last chapter that sent the player character on the fast lane to tragedy. At least that instance can be more easily corrected on a second run or if you aim to 100% as many chapter flowcharts as possible.
But Is It Any Good?
The TV Tropes term "Your Milage May Vary" exists for a reason.
I don't need to see a 2-hour documentary to understand that a lot of time and effort has been invested in this game. At the very least, I'm not interested in making an argument that David Cage, anyone in Quantic Dream, or the actors were lazy. Some of the names attached to this project could be enough to convince a group of people that those involved could still hit a homerun while in a coma.
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| I don't let graphics tip the scale too much in my assessments, but I have to admit Detroit: Become Human looks really damn good. |
But to answer the question of whether or not Detroit: Become Human's content is any good, I have to break the game down in bite-sized chunks by character: Connor, Kara, and Markus.
Yet Another Detective Story
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| Model RK800, "Connor". |
Okay, I'm done joking around.
As of writing this post, many players and fans claim that Connor's story is the best. He's the most popular character according to the in-game survey offered after you've played for enough hours or you've beaten the game. Many laud his gameplay, no matter how much of a watered-down Batman Arkham game it can be when you analyze crime scenes. He and his actor, Bryan Dechart, have a legion of fangirls and fanboys that have hijacked Tumblr, TV Tropes, Reddit, and numerous Detroit: Become Human Discord servers and other social media platforms. And many - including Yahtzee - have joked about how half of the story is about his "blossoming" (b)romance with Clancy Brown. (1)
If you had read my pervious post, I have stated that Connor is my favorite character. My friends on Tumblr can attest to this with how many pictures and posts I reblogged appeared on their dashboards. I also follow Bryan on Twitch, Twitter, and Youtube, and I appreciate him reaching out to fans and sharing all sorts of behind-the-scenes trivia about the game and how he performed Connor. Just wanted to disclose my being a fangirl.
But why do so many players (besides me) like him?
Some scenes have some add-libbing or improvised actions performed by Bryan and Clancy, leading to some of the most natural character moments in the entire game, like Hank slapping Connor for prioritizing the capture of a deviant over saving him from nearly falling off a roof in "The Nest", but that can't be the only reason.
After completing 12 runs of the story from beginning to end, Connor is arguably the only character whose story truly tackles the main question this game asks: "Can intelligent machines with the capacity to simulate human emotions be considered alive?" It's integral to the plot, in which some androids to break from their designed programming and begin to display irrational behaviors that make them seem human, a phenomenon called "deviancy". It's a concern for the company manufacturing androids as deviancy seems to spread like a virus, so CyberLife issues Connor, a prototype detective android, to assist Lieutenant Hank Anderson in the Detroit Police Department in investigating deviant androids who have committed an array of crimes from murder to illegal squatting. His story has an alright mystery and a buddy-cop dynamic with Hank, and investigating crime scenes are not complex or deep from a gameplay perspective, but it feels immersive. And since he's is an android himself, there are moments when Hank and Amanda, the CyberLife representative Connor reports to, question if Connor has adopted any tendencies that increase his risk of becoming deviant.
Also, Connor is the only main character who has a choice to become deviant or to remain a machine.
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| That's one way to look at it... |
There are several ways to interpret what Connor's story is about based on how he treats other androids, the rapport he builds with Hank, how loyal he remains to his creators at CyberLife, and how he views himself. I've had fun playing him as a machine simulating human emotions only to accomplish his mission as efficiently and pragmatically as possible, and I've enjoyed playing him as a confused android growing beyond his original programming and truly embodying the kindness and empathy he initially used to adopt when working with Hank. I also played him as an incompetent, uncaring detective for half the game and constantly dying in stupidly hilarious ways, only to become competent and caring far too late when he missed his chance to have a change of heart. I intentionally made that last example sad on purpose to obtain the "I'll Be Back" trophy, but I did not realize how goddamned Shakespearian the ending became when the entire rest of the cast dropped dead.
But with all of that said, I cannot help but wonder how many intellectual and philosophical questions I mistook for being in the narrative when it was only my hyper-analytical brain playing tricks on me.
I do appreciate Detroit for making me think about the ethics of artificial intelligence, but it's telling when Mass Effect had a subtle yet comprehensive approach to the topic with the ease of breathing. I remembered a conversation Commander Shepard can have with Legion during its loyalty mission, and it discusses a major flaw in projecting human motivations onto machines: it's just as problematic and racist as presuming machines are incapable of humanity. To assume is to make an ass of you and me. Projecting one's worldview on people, animals, and machines -- no matter how similar they are to you -- and assuming they are just like you can blind you from the nuances and fundamental differences that fall outside of the framework you created. That is not to say that all forms of projection are wrong. All this does is remind someone of their limits so they can to strive to expand their knowledge and perspective to adapt to new situations and solve problems that seemed unsurmountable yesterday.
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| *sighs* When Mass Effect: Andromeda frames moral choices more deftly than you, please seek professional help. |
Despite missing the bus stop to an amazing adventure, Connor's journey of self-discovery is a clichéd, yet compelling story that can very easily end in tragedy in a variety of ways. Every one of his failures, successes ,and misunderstandings of himself and the world around him are very easy to relate to and empathize with. And it helps that 95% of Detroit: Become Human's comedy comes from Connor's story.
To be honest, most of the "emotions" the game tried to draw from me only worked somewhat reliably and consistently in Connor's story.
It's ironic that the playable character that spends much of the narrative being bound by restraints to only imitate alive is the only one that has the most organic and genuinely human moments. Connor "focuses" himself mentally and physically by performing coin tricks... which seems like an unusually specific quirk for a machine. He imitates enough "human" movements to assimilate without falling too deep in the uncanny valley (blinking, falling over if punched in the abdomen, "breathing", etc.) but CyberLife gave him an advanced social module that gives him the potential to adopt behaviors to integrate into any human team, which increases his risk of becoming deviant. He can even curse once in a blue moon -- and is as convincing as the epic battlecry of a desert rain frog -- and use guns all androids are forbidden to use. It makes you wonder why the hell CyberLife made Connor dance on such an unstable line between being a machine complying with laws and being a human disregarding laws in the first place.
...
Except they did make him prone to instability. Intentionally.
Yep, and there's a reason for why they did it. Two reasons actually, depending on the ending:
1. When enough androids in Detroit deviate and form an organized movement to demand autonomy, freedom, and recognition as living beings, Connor is to become deviant, help ensure the movement's success, and let CyberLife reassume control of his platform so they can command the movement with Connor as a mindless puppet. (Don't worry, I'll discuss the radioactive elephant of an allegory the movement is when I discuss Markus.)
2. See above, except controlled-Connor is also meant to assassinate Markus if he is alive and succeeded in his final peaceful or violent protest.
Okay... but why?
Okay... but why?
As this is a David Cage game, of course he will write plot twists that make no sense, and it's depressing that Connor's story is no exception. Thanks for adding in a pile of bullshit at the tail-end of an otherwise decent crack at sci-fi. The twist appears at the last second of the good and bittersweet endings when Connor becomes deviant with no foreshadowing and no explorations of what CyberLife is, who works within the company, and what their motives are. It's bad enough to make some players seek out the worst endings possible to avoid that awful reveal from appearing before their screens.
And again... why?
And again... why?
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| Elijah Kamski is either a brilliant genius, a troll, or an underwhelming jackass. |
Is the "hijack the movement" plot a ruse so CyberLife can demonstrate how flawed their machines are and that they must be fixed and replaced? If so, why does the game imply they designed the weakness that allows deviancy to occur? Or did the exiled CEO Elijah Kamski design it? If even he created what he implied was a virus that can spread between androids and "awaken" under intense stress, why hasn't CyberLife done anything to remove that deviancy glitch/virus so their androids aren't seen as a threat to national and international security? Why does CyberLife think they can continue to make record-breaking profits by exposing how broken and unstable their products are?
... Keep in mind that this is all in what is widely considered to be the best story with the best character in the game, and I already got carried away playing 100 questions. And guess what? It's not Detroit: Become Human's worst plot twist.
*sighs*
If there is one plot device I did not mind, it was the reason why Connor seems immune from permanent death for the majority of the game. He's not a unique model like Markus; there are likely hundreds of copies ready to replace his predecessor with backed up memories transferred into the new platform. (Although there is an "ask us a question to determine who is the real Connor" scene that's trite as fuck, but I appreciated the scene a little more after the comparing how deviant Connor displays sympathy for Hank's problems as opposed to non-deviant Connor being manipulative.) There are two downsides to his technological "immortality": Connor's capacity for empathy resets, making it harder for him to deviate near the end of the game, and if Connor dies one too many times, Hank... well...
In "Russian Roulette", one of the funniest but darkest chapters in the game, Connor can find a picture of a child, Hank's son Cole, who died a few years before the start of the game. Ignoring the cynical observation that this is yet another repetitive plot point David Cage recycles in his writing, Hank falls to pieces and has been borderline suicidal for a while. Regardless if their relationship is friendly or hostile, every time Connor dies, it reminds Hank of being helpless and unable to protect Cole. You don't learn this fact unless he says it after Connor dies once but you are still on the path to a good ending, or if Connor dies enough times that Hank leaves the police force. The latter scenario is goddamn heartbreaking because a still-machine Connor that becomes completely fixed on stopping Markus' revolution at all costs feels -- yes, one of the closest things to actually feeling rather than simulating emotion -- remorse for indirectly taking part in Hank shooting himself.
You know, for the controversy this game stirred in Europe over the portrayal of domestic violence in Kara's story, I have not seen similar moral outrage over the portrayal of depression and suicide. Maybe it's because less than 20% of players have unlocked this story path. Either way, Detroit: Become Human does not hold back from dealing sucker punches to the face, whether it's qualified to do so or not.
It is a bit problematic to oversimplify grief and self-destruction. I won't deny that. From a reductionist perspective it may be disturbing to have a story that implies that befriending someone will pull them out of their depression or suicidal thoughts, because life does not work that way. Maybe it's overly simplistic to construct Connor in a way to have him resemble Hank's dead son in appearance and the general disposition of being socially awkward and naive of the world -- like a child. On the other hand, navigating through relationships is tricky, and you have to live with the consequences for every fuckup. There are consequences for lacking sympathy for others' shock from you seemingly returning from death, for failing to mend a hostile work partnership, and for refusing to form bonds with people that may help you in a time of need in the future. Detroit: Become Human makes Connor learn any or all of those lessons in nearly every playthrough scenario. This is an imperfect fragment of broader and more complex experiences that happen to everyone in reality. No matter how tasteless its writing or execution are, Hank's fate has moved some emotionally, some intellectually, and others not at all. It's complicated, like life.
*sighs*
If there is one plot device I did not mind, it was the reason why Connor seems immune from permanent death for the majority of the game. He's not a unique model like Markus; there are likely hundreds of copies ready to replace his predecessor with backed up memories transferred into the new platform. (Although there is an "ask us a question to determine who is the real Connor" scene that's trite as fuck, but I appreciated the scene a little more after the comparing how deviant Connor displays sympathy for Hank's problems as opposed to non-deviant Connor being manipulative.) There are two downsides to his technological "immortality": Connor's capacity for empathy resets, making it harder for him to deviate near the end of the game, and if Connor dies one too many times, Hank... well...
In "Russian Roulette", one of the funniest but darkest chapters in the game, Connor can find a picture of a child, Hank's son Cole, who died a few years before the start of the game. Ignoring the cynical observation that this is yet another repetitive plot point David Cage recycles in his writing, Hank falls to pieces and has been borderline suicidal for a while. Regardless if their relationship is friendly or hostile, every time Connor dies, it reminds Hank of being helpless and unable to protect Cole. You don't learn this fact unless he says it after Connor dies once but you are still on the path to a good ending, or if Connor dies enough times that Hank leaves the police force. The latter scenario is goddamn heartbreaking because a still-machine Connor that becomes completely fixed on stopping Markus' revolution at all costs feels -- yes, one of the closest things to actually feeling rather than simulating emotion -- remorse for indirectly taking part in Hank shooting himself.
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| For a relatively stoic character whose LED almost never flashes red, this is one of only two times Connor takes several long seconds to recover from distress. |
It is a bit problematic to oversimplify grief and self-destruction. I won't deny that. From a reductionist perspective it may be disturbing to have a story that implies that befriending someone will pull them out of their depression or suicidal thoughts, because life does not work that way. Maybe it's overly simplistic to construct Connor in a way to have him resemble Hank's dead son in appearance and the general disposition of being socially awkward and naive of the world -- like a child. On the other hand, navigating through relationships is tricky, and you have to live with the consequences for every fuckup. There are consequences for lacking sympathy for others' shock from you seemingly returning from death, for failing to mend a hostile work partnership, and for refusing to form bonds with people that may help you in a time of need in the future. Detroit: Become Human makes Connor learn any or all of those lessons in nearly every playthrough scenario. This is an imperfect fragment of broader and more complex experiences that happen to everyone in reality. No matter how tasteless its writing or execution are, Hank's fate has moved some emotionally, some intellectually, and others not at all. It's complicated, like life.
Yes, the world-building, the plot, and subjects in Detroit: Become Human leave much to be desired in many, many ways. But somehow, for some bizarre reason like him waking up on the right side of the bed for once or the actors are just that damn good at elevating crap to new heights, David Cage managed to arguably create the most human and relatable protagonist Quantic Dream has ever made. His games tend to have okay plots and atrocious dialogue and character interactions, but Connor's story (and Kara's and Markus' to similar extents) managed to do the complete opposite. It may be a backhanded compliment, but consider it a baby step towards competency in writing a story.
At the very least, I kept returning to this game over and over because of Connor and Hank. Friends or enemies, the way they help each other learn more about themselves and find meaning in their empty lives is extremely entertaining to facilitate. Some fans ship them, some see them as best friends, and others enjoy the father-son subtext. I have my own preferences (best friends with some familial banter), but I'm too old to police every headcanon I don't agree with. Besides, I'm too busy drying my misty eyes over the post-credits scene when Connor gets his one and only happy ending.
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| I-I'm not crying! You are! >.< *sniff* |
Lastly, Detroit: Become Human and its fanbase did another mazing feat: they made me hold a sliver of appreciation for a cartoon I have always hated and will never, ever like even if it's the only form of entertainment that survives after the apocalypse. Thanks for that, internet.
Anywho, next is Kara, the reason this game exists in the first place. I'll need a few days to draft out what I'll say about her and tie in other aspects of the game that are relevant to the strengths and weaknesses of her story.
Until then, here's an another person's opinion to provide some balance to my mixed-to-positive feelings about Detroit: Become Human.
Until then, here's an another person's opinion to provide some balance to my mixed-to-positive feelings about Detroit: Become Human.
Part 2 coming soon...
~~~~~~~Notes:~~~~~~~
(1) - What makes this joke kind of sad is that David Cage is so incapable of writing and framing actual romances that he manages to make Connor and Hank's relationship to have more interpersonal drama, chemistry, and tension than the one and only possible couple: Markus and North. That said, some credit for this may go to Bryan and Clancy, as they got along very well during filming and several of the better moments between their characters were improvisations that His Imperial Majesty reluctantly kept in despite protesting any changes to his script. (1a)
(1a) - Actually, let the fact David Cage doesn't like anyone deviating from his vision sink in for a minute. Having recently left a job with very controlling leadership, I'm not surprised that some in Quantic Dream reported uncomfortable work conditions and a tense work environment. This is why I have few regrets spending $75 on two games - it saves me from spending $90 on buying Detroit: Become Human and Heavy Rain separately.
(2) - Reason #8854376920 I am thankful I studied anthropology in university.
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