An oddity in our usual features, today we've got something a bit different. You see, I only finished Red Dead Redemption 2 this week. I also had the game for almost two weeks before it hit retail, and in that time, I barely ever
stopped playing, but I did deliberately choose not
to complete it. Here's why...
Not too many games have impacted me the way Red Dead Redemption 2 has and did. So much so, that the physical act of completing the game brought out a lot in me. Enough to get a bit esoteric and caught up in my own head, but as a writer, words are my friend and so I found myself spewing forth content around this entire experience.
Here's a snippet:
Prior to my snowy mountain assault on the turncoat, I’d been spending time in Tall Trees trying to feed Evelyn Miller, the struggling writer whose cabin sat at the north-western end of the area, but right in Skinner territory. We run into him as Arthur, too, but that’s a lifetime ago. Miller’s refusal to eat or drink until his latest draft is completed sits as a poignant metaphor for how I’ve chosen to play Red Dead Redemption 2. I’m not playing it as a completionist -- I have myriad tasks yet to complete. Rather, I’ve been playing the game as a denizen. A main character, yes, but one at peace with the game-world around me. Living in a “microcosm of romanticised period media”, as I also wrote in my review.
Never has a game done this to me.
The full piece is one I'm really very proud of, and if Red Dead Redemption has struck you at all in a similar way, or you just want to read up on how a grown person can become so infatuated with an interactive experience, click here to read my full exodus from Red Dead Redemption 2