When I last (indeed first) iterated my thoughts about Red Dead Redemption, I made a comment on the depicted realism and how this striving for realism might detract from the artistic endeavours within it's dusty bounds.
Well something magical happened yesterday. A true noir moment.
A companion and I had been chased out of Tumbleweed by the resident vagrant banditry after I committed to helping said companion in returning deceased friends from that ruined place to it's graveyard.
As we fled, the storm clouds rolled in and we parted ways. The rain began bucketing down and lightning split the sky. I decided to head to Rathskeller Fork, a small community nestled in the shelter of the cliff faces to the north. The scree and brush that littered this part of the West was being torn at by the wind and pelted by the rain. As a massive flash of lightning and crack of thunder was issued by the sky a challenge was raised by some dark creature to the side of the road.
There, kicking in defiance at the lightning was the most majestic horse ever. Dark as midnight yet strong as steel.
The rain and lightning stopped, the wind settled. At least in my mind it did. My attention was directed entirely toward that horse. I speared off the side of the road, indeed like the wind itself which lustily grabbed at my duster.
My lasoo became an extension of my arm as I twirled it above my head in some kind of strange appropriation ritual. It weaved a message in the sky "I take this horse as my own". I like to think the thunder answered in glorious assent.
The horse saw me and turned, thinking me some demon of the shadow, but it was too late, the rolling thunder had masked my approach. The lasoo flew and held, the horse became stuck fast. I held it there hoping it didn't truly bolt and drag me along, instead it thrashed and kicked in some kind of reproach.
I closed the distance carefully, wary of the slick rocks and puddles forming at my feet. I was quick. Up on it's back. Lightning crashes. Hands in the mane. Shifting weight from side to side as it continued to buck and snort.
It seemed like an hour or so but it was probably only a minute. The bucking slowed to a general jumping about, the whinnying and neighing turned into a gruff snort and I knew that I had my prize.
I set heels to the flanks and bolted into the night. Heedless now. Death could have taken me and I'd be glad because this was the moment to transcend all others.
The rain eased, the sun crested the horizon and the morning greeted us like long lost friends returned home. Our pace slowed and I turned back toward Rathskeller Fork, weary with a night of joy and damp with the rage of a storm.
Approaching the road I spied a cluster of herbs that I knew were in demand back in the towns. For the first time, I jumped off my new horse and walked over to the patch. Nearby I saw a rucksack and the remnants of a small fire. Interested, I went over to check if there wasn't anyone in need of any kind of small mercy.
With a rustle from behind I spied a man spring up from the ground itself. Spouting some kind of profanity he hauled himself up onto my horse. With maniacal glee he sprinted off away back to the place I had come from. Dejected and alone, I walked the rest of the way. I swore I would find that bastard and kill him.
******
This realistic depiction as achieved in RDR could be stylised in another manner but there would be something missing. The realism in the graphics and design with this game grounds it somewhat. This grounding is also reliant on the fact that in a lot of Westerns the environment itself is as big a character as the scarred swear-mongers that inhabit such a place. Would have RDR worked if it had taken on a Blizzard like design? No. Emphatically so.
There was a point in RDR where I had finished a mission and was introduced into a new environ. I do not mean in the manner of from the dusty plain to the frigid nordic icefields but from the dusty plain to a less dusty plain with more lawlessness and a different kind of cacti. As you enter this place the sound dims and a fantastic western song (a conjunction of words I have never used in my life) plays over the top. The sun sets and you look over the mesas and townships below. It was a really good moment. That probably sounds a bit trite considering how flowery the rest of this post is but I don't think I can sufficiently capture it in feeble words. It was as good as a really good thing that makes me think of other good things.
I guess what I am saying is that the graphics and design should be appreciated both on it's own merits but also in it's interaction with the other elements that comprise a game. If this is no amazing discovery for you then I am truly sorry to have wasted your time but I am glad that I wiped taht cobweb from my mind.
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