Holidaying in the Wasteland
By: James Burns
Tags: Relaxation, Gaming, Culture, Mental Health, Videogames

Video game comfort food

The thing that really set me off on this path is actually YouTube. These days, I watch far more YouTube than Netflix or anything else. There are so many great creators out there making gaming videos. I love discovering channels for the first time and digging into their libraries. I was particularly struck by this incredible, four hour documentary (which I still haven’t finished), about The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. The more I watched it, the more it got me in the mood to play an Elder Scrolls game. Skyrim is my favourite, and the remastered version on PS4 was just the ticket.

When it comes to Skyrim, I went in with a very forgiving mindset. That is, forgiving to myself. Having completed the game, I appreciate how utterly vast it is. Right off the bat, I’m not committing myself to dozens of hours. I’ll dip in and out, take what I need from the experience, and leave whatever I want on the table. Video game self-care; that’s how I’m approaching it. Ignoring the critical path, and completely disregarding the busywork that should be banished from all video games (no thanks, I’m not hunting around for those flowers you want — bore someone else with your tedious requests); it’s remarkably freeing.

The same is true for Fallout 4. Yeah, I’ve just reached Diamond City and spoken to Nick. But it took me a while to get there. I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time building in Sanctuary and exploring the world. I know a lot of players do this, but when I first played Fallout 4, I approached the central mission a little more seriously and with greater urgency (after all, my son had been taken from me and my husband had been shot before my very eyes— Preston Garvey’s incessant requests seemed trivial given my personal circumstances). Fuck off, Preston.

Ignoring the critical path, and completely disregarding the busywork that should be banished from all video games (no thanks, I’m not hunting around for those flowers you want — bore someone else with your tedious requests); it’s remarkably freeing.

In both cases — Skyrim and Fallout 4 — Bethesda’s best and worst qualities as a developer are on display. For now I’m not going to dwell on the negatives; the bugs are iconic at this point, and the shortcomings with Fallout 4’s story are something I’ll touch on in a moment. What Bethesda does exceptionally well is create space. It’s tempting to employ the term “wide as an ocean, deep as a puddle” to describe both of these games (and I’d argue it’s especially applicable in the case of Fallout 4). This term tends to be used as a pejorative for understandable reasons. But let’s not be so quick to dismiss the wide ocean. The broad scale that Bethesda is so good at crafting isn’t simply a case of adjusting a slider and fiddling a dial to make the map larger. There’s a real artistry to designing compelling locations and considering how they connect to each other in the world. Setting aside story and depth for now, both Skyrim and Fallout 4 are wonderful spaces to explore. Long before Nintendo’s outstanding Breath of the Wild, Bethesda has already mastered the magic of discovery — spotting a curiosity in the distance and knowing you can approach it to find out more. You can try this yourself: stand in any outdoor location in either of these games and look around. I absolutely guarantee you’ll see something of interest. Maybe it’s an ominous, lone shack nestled amongst a clump of trees. Or maybe you can just spot some movement on that partially-crumbled raised highway in the distance. What is that? I wonder if there’s anything interesting there…

Long before Nintendo’s outstanding Breath of the Wild, Bethesda has already mastered the magic of discovery — spotting a curiosity in the distance and knowing you can approach it to find out more.

Regardless of the objective I’m following at the time, there’s something about being in these worlds that is enjoyable in and of itself. In Skyrim it’s the exploration and thievery that do it for me (I’d much rather join the Thieves Guild and follow their quest line than progress the critical path, honestly). I can spend an entire play session sneaking around nabbing valuables from elaborate, fiercly-guarded mansions in the dead of night. What fun. And in Fallout 4, the predictable-yet-engaging explore > discover a location > kill the enemies > loot the area cycle is addictive regardless of story context.

In both Skyrim and Fallout 4, I occasionally found myself skipping through dialogue just so I could get back out into the world. I did this on my first play throughs as well, though perhaps less frequently. Is this an indictment of Bethesda’s often-bland writing, or an endorsement of their enticing world design? Hm…