Bioshock 2 has been one of the most anticipated games of the last several months. Both critics and fans have been divided over whether or not it would be a worth successor to the brilliant original. I’ve made no secret of my views.
But now I’ve had a chance to play it, beginning to end(s). And I’ll get this out of the way right at the get-go:
My predictions were largely correct. Bioshock 2 gets a few things right, but it’s ultimately not a worthy successor to the original. Allow me to expound.
The game takes place 10 years or so after the events of the first Bioshock. You play as one of the original Big Daddies. Andrew Ryan, the founder of Rapture, is dead, and a new antagonist, Sophia Lamb, has risen to take his place as leader of the undersea city of Rapture.
Though Ryan and Lamb both believe Rapture is the answer to all of humankind’s problems, their methods could not be more different. Ryan believed in the ultimate power of the individual; Lamb places her faith in the collective. Ryan was a rabid capitalist; Lamb is more of a communist. Ryan looked for salvation in the removal of moral, legal, and ethical boundaries and the elevation of individual achievement; Lamb insists that the good of the many must take precedence over any individual need.
You awaken at the beginning of the game without knowledge of what’s gone on over the past ten years, except that you must find your “daughter” — the Little Sister who was bonded to you when you were turned into a Big Daddy. The resulting hunt lasts the entire game, and will have you exploring new corners of Rapture, battling hordes of crazed citizens, and navigating moral conundrums.
From a purely technical perspective, Bioshock 2 is polished to a greater shine than its predecessor. The gameplay has been tightened down considerably: the shooter mechanics are smoother and more fun; the ability to use plasmids and weapons at the same time is nice; hacking turrets and security systems is more intense and intuitive; and enemy splicers are more varied, using group tactics and cover, and are more satisfying to put down.
But as any true Bioshock fan will agree, gameplay is of secondary concern to story and atmosphere.
From the very beginning, the game starts off on the wrong foot. Playing as a Big Daddy just isn’t compelling. It has its moments (using the drill dash to crash across the room and pummel an enemy never gets old), but the emotional connection to the situation isn’t there. You are told what you need to do, but not why you should want to do it. It wasn’t until about halfway through the game that I learned enough about my character to understand why I should care, but by then it was too late.
When I played the first game, the first-person experience was immediate and near-complete. I was playing a plane crash survivor stranded in a terrifying undersea city fighting for survival and answers. I was just as freaked out and mystified as my character was supposed to be, so it made connecting with the game and suspending disbelief incredibly easy.
As a Big Daddy, I had no idea what I was supposed to be feeling as a character. The Big Daddies in the first game were purposefully mysterious, but here you’re supposed to be able to identify with what one is feeling. Every time I started to get freaked out by something in the game or think I could understand what was going on, I’d catch sight of the edges of my faceplate and be reminded that whatever human emotions I was feeling were probably not what I would be feeling as a Big Daddy.
It might sound like I’m overthinking it (and I’m willing to admit that I tend to place more importance on this kind of thing than a lot of gamers), but the point is I was unable to immerse myself in Rapture the way I was the first time around. The creepiness is less creepy, the twists are less twisty, and the emotional impacts less emotionally impacty.
I won’t give too many specifics away, but another disappointment were the “boss” characters. In the first game, you faced iconic and fascinatingly insane arch-enemies who forced you to crawl around in their psyches. It was creepy, terrifying, and intense.
By contrast, Bioshock 2’s major enemies seem rather tame. They aren’t really interesting to learn about or even stand up to because they’re either stereotypical (Father Wales), weird and irritating (Alex the Great), or just kind of…boring (Grace Holloway). Dr. Steinman and Sander Cohen would be ashamed.
The other hallmark of Bioshock was the heavy philosophy it delved into while creating an underwater world and dynamic characters. Bioshock 2 follows suit by creating another agenda-driven arch-enemy with a worldview that is at once alien and understandable. And yet even here, the effect is less interesting.The individualistic humanism of the first game is pitted against a collectivistic humanist worldview in Bioshock 2. Rather than an exploration of a belief system, you are forced to pick one side or the other.
Sophia Lamb wants to create the ultimate utopianist, a perfect being who will put the good of the many before the good of the few. Free will and self-awareness is a genetic curse that must be rooted out before the next step of human evolution can take place, and Lamb is willing to do anything it takes (read: murder, torture, and human experimentation) to achieve her goals. The end justifies the means, as long as that end is good.
What is Lamb’s definition of good? Without God in the picture, concepts like good and evil are totally meaningless. Lamb realizes this, and asserts that the only scientifically classifiable good is pleasure. Therefore, pleasure is the ultimate end of human pursuit. Since the only way to escape pain, guilt, grief, and anything else not conducive to pleasure is to ultimately expunge a sense of self, the secret to human evolution is doing away with free will.
While the player is clearly supposed to understand that Lamb is wrong, it’s never made clear exactly why, nor is a better alternative ever explored. In fact, the rabid individualism that was encouraged under Andrew Ryan’s regime is occasionally implied to be the superior system.
The game also takes some direct swings at Christianity. Citizens of Rapture who turn to the Bible are painted in a negative light. One of the major characters in the game is a crazed fire-and-brimstone preacher who was once an atheist before he “got religion.” While the Reverend is certainly not an example of anything Christianity really stands for, the implication is clear that his conversion was part of his loss of sanity.
Other content issues include frequent harsh language (God’s name abused, f-bombs dropped, etc.) and brutally graphic violence similar to what was seen in the first game (you’ll find characters who appear to have hung themselves; your primary melee weapon is a giant drill that does exactly what you’d expect it to). Sexual themes are more prevalent than in the first game. Though nothing graphic is ever seen on screen, part of the game takes place in a ruined brothel and red light district of Rapture. A few splicers who clearly made livings as prostitutes before going insane can be overheard discussing ‘business’ transactions.
When the end credits roll, it’s clear that you’re meant to feel that the atheist-humanist dream that gave rise to Rapture is still a goal worth pursuing. It’s implied that humans have the power to forge a moral course and make the world a better place; what’s not explained is exactly how that works. Both Lamb and Ryan had marvelous intentions when they began their enterprises, and both ended up inflicting horrific crimes upon the very humanity they were trying to save. The only solution offered is essentially, “Try again, and make sure to not fail so hard next time.”
Quite frankly, when dealing with matters of such drastic importance, trial and error seems to be a poor way to go about things. But while the game demonstrates this effectively, it also offers no better solution.
Without an objective moral system that exists outside of human creation, the only tools left for making ethical decisions are variations on the themes of “might makes right” and self-gratification. It’s a fascinating irony that the game clearly demonstrates the consequences of this moral system, but it also seems to hold it up as the best way of going about our lives.
So. All that to say … what, exactly?
Bioshock 2 is a technical improvement over its predecessor. However, while the game appears to be cut from the same material as the original at first glance, it lacks the compelling story, moral fiber, and redeeming value that so defined the first game.
Even if you’re a rabid fan of Rapture, I’d recommend giving this game a pass. It just isn’t what you’re looking for.
Jerod Jarvis is an independent gaming journalist and founder of Duality Games. He maintains gaming columns for The Washington Times Communities and for The Outpost. When not blogging madly about games, he freelances for the Spokesman-Review in his hometown of Spokane, Washington and attends school at Whitworth University. Check out his presence on Facebook and Twitter to stay up on Duality Games updates and the inside scoop on the gaming news you care about.
But now I’ve had a chance to play it, beginning to end(s). And I’ll get this out of the way right at the get-go:
My predictions were largely correct. Bioshock 2 gets a few things right, but it’s ultimately not a worthy successor to the original. Allow me to expound.
The game takes place 10 years or so after the events of the first Bioshock. You play as one of the original Big Daddies. Andrew Ryan, the founder of Rapture, is dead, and a new antagonist, Sophia Lamb, has risen to take his place as leader of the undersea city of Rapture.
Though Ryan and Lamb both believe Rapture is the answer to all of humankind’s problems, their methods could not be more different. Ryan believed in the ultimate power of the individual; Lamb places her faith in the collective. Ryan was a rabid capitalist; Lamb is more of a communist. Ryan looked for salvation in the removal of moral, legal, and ethical boundaries and the elevation of individual achievement; Lamb insists that the good of the many must take precedence over any individual need.
You awaken at the beginning of the game without knowledge of what’s gone on over the past ten years, except that you must find your “daughter” — the Little Sister who was bonded to you when you were turned into a Big Daddy. The resulting hunt lasts the entire game, and will have you exploring new corners of Rapture, battling hordes of crazed citizens, and navigating moral conundrums.
From a purely technical perspective, Bioshock 2 is polished to a greater shine than its predecessor. The gameplay has been tightened down considerably: the shooter mechanics are smoother and more fun; the ability to use plasmids and weapons at the same time is nice; hacking turrets and security systems is more intense and intuitive; and enemy splicers are more varied, using group tactics and cover, and are more satisfying to put down.
But as any true Bioshock fan will agree, gameplay is of secondary concern to story and atmosphere.
From the very beginning, the game starts off on the wrong foot. Playing as a Big Daddy just isn’t compelling. It has its moments (using the drill dash to crash across the room and pummel an enemy never gets old), but the emotional connection to the situation isn’t there. You are told what you need to do, but not why you should want to do it. It wasn’t until about halfway through the game that I learned enough about my character to understand why I should care, but by then it was too late.
When I played the first game, the first-person experience was immediate and near-complete. I was playing a plane crash survivor stranded in a terrifying undersea city fighting for survival and answers. I was just as freaked out and mystified as my character was supposed to be, so it made connecting with the game and suspending disbelief incredibly easy.
As a Big Daddy, I had no idea what I was supposed to be feeling as a character. The Big Daddies in the first game were purposefully mysterious, but here you’re supposed to be able to identify with what one is feeling. Every time I started to get freaked out by something in the game or think I could understand what was going on, I’d catch sight of the edges of my faceplate and be reminded that whatever human emotions I was feeling were probably not what I would be feeling as a Big Daddy.
It might sound like I’m overthinking it (and I’m willing to admit that I tend to place more importance on this kind of thing than a lot of gamers), but the point is I was unable to immerse myself in Rapture the way I was the first time around. The creepiness is less creepy, the twists are less twisty, and the emotional impacts less emotionally impacty.
I won’t give too many specifics away, but another disappointment were the “boss” characters. In the first game, you faced iconic and fascinatingly insane arch-enemies who forced you to crawl around in their psyches. It was creepy, terrifying, and intense.
By contrast, Bioshock 2’s major enemies seem rather tame. They aren’t really interesting to learn about or even stand up to because they’re either stereotypical (Father Wales), weird and irritating (Alex the Great), or just kind of…boring (Grace Holloway). Dr. Steinman and Sander Cohen would be ashamed.
The other hallmark of Bioshock was the heavy philosophy it delved into while creating an underwater world and dynamic characters. Bioshock 2 follows suit by creating another agenda-driven arch-enemy with a worldview that is at once alien and understandable. And yet even here, the effect is less interesting.The individualistic humanism of the first game is pitted against a collectivistic humanist worldview in Bioshock 2. Rather than an exploration of a belief system, you are forced to pick one side or the other.
Sophia Lamb wants to create the ultimate utopianist, a perfect being who will put the good of the many before the good of the few. Free will and self-awareness is a genetic curse that must be rooted out before the next step of human evolution can take place, and Lamb is willing to do anything it takes (read: murder, torture, and human experimentation) to achieve her goals. The end justifies the means, as long as that end is good.
What is Lamb’s definition of good? Without God in the picture, concepts like good and evil are totally meaningless. Lamb realizes this, and asserts that the only scientifically classifiable good is pleasure. Therefore, pleasure is the ultimate end of human pursuit. Since the only way to escape pain, guilt, grief, and anything else not conducive to pleasure is to ultimately expunge a sense of self, the secret to human evolution is doing away with free will.
While the player is clearly supposed to understand that Lamb is wrong, it’s never made clear exactly why, nor is a better alternative ever explored. In fact, the rabid individualism that was encouraged under Andrew Ryan’s regime is occasionally implied to be the superior system.
The game also takes some direct swings at Christianity. Citizens of Rapture who turn to the Bible are painted in a negative light. One of the major characters in the game is a crazed fire-and-brimstone preacher who was once an atheist before he “got religion.” While the Reverend is certainly not an example of anything Christianity really stands for, the implication is clear that his conversion was part of his loss of sanity.
Other content issues include frequent harsh language (God’s name abused, f-bombs dropped, etc.) and brutally graphic violence similar to what was seen in the first game (you’ll find characters who appear to have hung themselves; your primary melee weapon is a giant drill that does exactly what you’d expect it to). Sexual themes are more prevalent than in the first game. Though nothing graphic is ever seen on screen, part of the game takes place in a ruined brothel and red light district of Rapture. A few splicers who clearly made livings as prostitutes before going insane can be overheard discussing ‘business’ transactions.
When the end credits roll, it’s clear that you’re meant to feel that the atheist-humanist dream that gave rise to Rapture is still a goal worth pursuing. It’s implied that humans have the power to forge a moral course and make the world a better place; what’s not explained is exactly how that works. Both Lamb and Ryan had marvelous intentions when they began their enterprises, and both ended up inflicting horrific crimes upon the very humanity they were trying to save. The only solution offered is essentially, “Try again, and make sure to not fail so hard next time.”
Quite frankly, when dealing with matters of such drastic importance, trial and error seems to be a poor way to go about things. But while the game demonstrates this effectively, it also offers no better solution.
Without an objective moral system that exists outside of human creation, the only tools left for making ethical decisions are variations on the themes of “might makes right” and self-gratification. It’s a fascinating irony that the game clearly demonstrates the consequences of this moral system, but it also seems to hold it up as the best way of going about our lives.
So. All that to say … what, exactly?
Bioshock 2 is a technical improvement over its predecessor. However, while the game appears to be cut from the same material as the original at first glance, it lacks the compelling story, moral fiber, and redeeming value that so defined the first game.
Even if you’re a rabid fan of Rapture, I’d recommend giving this game a pass. It just isn’t what you’re looking for.
Adventure games are an eclectic bunch. They range from goofy third-person experiences like the Monkey Island games to more serious, story-driven games like the Myst series. Some rely heavily on inventory-based puzzles; others more on dialogue; still others on logically piecing elements of the environment together in order to progress.
There aren’t many content issues to speak of. Smoking and alcohol are referenced. The story deals with multiple murders, in non-graphic fashion. A smattering of mild language pops up.
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