If you hated the ending, and don't want to hear why I think your complaints are probably petty, by all means please skip this review.
Whereas Mass Effect 3 was tasked with ending the story of Shepard's accidental drafting as the vanguard against the Reapers and their existential threat to galactic life, I think it succeeded spectacularly. Whatever technical imperfections and gameplay quirks (for me, all the new 'mobility' sometimes hindered me as much as it helped), my focus is on the characterization and narrative, which I found on-par with or superior to any other game I've ever played. I felt moved to more-- more warmth, awe, sorrow, affection, humour, and anguish-- than any other piece of fiction in memory, and I was an English major with a love of stories.
The characterization was riding on the writing, the acting, and the character visualizations. I felt the latter was the weakest-- some of those facial expressions... yikes. But the script showed some real growth in the characters, and made them feel 'alive.' I also loved how-- unlike the mere stationary 'conversation dispensers' of ME1& 2-- NPCs aboard the Normandy and the Citadel moved around, interacted with one another, and revealed their own 'relationships.' Eavesdropping on their supportive intercom conversations and their banter, listening to Joker and Garrus tell racist jokes about each others' species-- some of it was hysterical and some of it was quite touching. There were also some great scenes with Shepard that really showed how close these imaginary people have become.
None of that would have 'worked' if not for some praise-worthy performances by the actors, most of whom 'sold' me almost all of their material very effectively. And at risk of playing unfair favourites (because I've waited 5 years to romance Kaidan Alenko as another guy), I was especially wowed by Raphael Sbarge. He sounded superbly authentic to me, none of it came off as forced or fake, even in the novel role of the finally-realized same-sex romance. (Though Shepard's part in that first 'date' fell a bit flat for me-- equal parts the lines and the delivery, I think-- Kaidan felt really 'real.') And his 'farewell' at the London FOB was heart-wrenching, and changed my mind from "I want him safely as far away from me as possible" to "I couldn't imagine doing this without him by my side." It *would* have been nice to have seen a bit more of our ME2 squad-- I didn't realize how attached I'd actually gotten to them until their bodies started piling up-- but the story was coming full-circle and ultimately I don't mind that they were 'bit players.' They were assembled for a specific mission, it was accomplished, and not having experienced the Reapers' threat as directly as the original team did, they had lives to get back to. Even so, the QEC farewells from London were nonetheless really emotional for me.
And I found overall narrative outstanding; the invasion seemed urgent, its spread felt foreboding, Cerberus' interference sincerely made me *angry* at their meddling, and the push to reclaim Earth really had an 'epic' feel to it. Standing out as emblematic of how immersed and how invested I'd become, during the final battle through the streets of London, it was like I forgot medigel even existed and I fought harder than I think I ever have-- poetry in motion-- to 'defend' Kaidan. Nothing else I've watched or read or played has made me feel so protective of an imaginary person.
As for the much-derided ending(s). I'm unsympathetic to the complaints-- they strike me as churlish and smacking of "the customer is always right" entitlement. Yes, it was sad. Broke my heart in half a dozen different ways, but none of them because "I didn't get" my way, or all my questions answered, or a ticker-tape parade at the end. 'My' Shepard heroically offered up his life to end the threat to everything he loved, and while I could have asked for more-- I deeply longed for a 'happy ending'-- I couldn't presume to expect it given the scope. By that I mean: if Shep had survived then what? A hum-drum retirement? Death of old age? Because that would have been so much more satisfying. No, this was a good old fashioned epic-- given the stakes, victory was always bound to be pyrrhic and agonizing. You don't give birth to a new age without pain.
In the end I felt beat up. I was a mess. But I'd done what I set out to do. The Reapers were stopped and the people I cared about had a chance. There was ambiguity and worry and there were questions, but there was hope. I'd been reminded of feelings that often go untapped by blowing the reservoir wide open, and reminded I was alive by making me think about what a death could 'mean.' The notion that I deserved more-- that BioWare's storytelling artists "owed" me exactly what I wanted because I'd *chosen* to pay to experience this journey they crafted-- strikes me as self-centered. It was always their story to tell and ours to participate in, and I wasn't robbed at the end of any gun. That they gave me some freedom in how I experienced 90 or 99% of that story, that I got to see certain decisions play out over time and certain consequences reach fruition, never deluded me into thinking that I was the ultimate author. But I think audiences today are spoiled for information (the information age tells us nothing need go un-answered) and for 'choice' (often the choice is to escape, to shirk responsibility, and to brush off real consequences to have everything our way), and I think that makes the uproar over ME3's conclusion an indictment of 'bad readers' more than 'bad writers.'
Whereas Mass Effect 3 was tasked with ending the story of Shepard's accidental drafting as the vanguard against the Reapers and their existential threat to galactic life, I think it succeeded spectacularly. Whatever technical imperfections and gameplay quirks (for me, all the new 'mobility' sometimes hindered me as much as it helped), my focus is on the characterization and narrative, which I found on-par with or superior to any other game I've ever played. I felt moved to more-- more warmth, awe, sorrow, affection, humour, and anguish-- than any other piece of fiction in memory, and I was an English major with a love of stories.
The characterization was riding on the writing, the acting, and the character visualizations. I felt the latter was the weakest-- some of those facial expressions... yikes. But the script showed some real growth in the characters, and made them feel 'alive.' I also loved how-- unlike the mere stationary 'conversation dispensers' of ME1& 2-- NPCs aboard the Normandy and the Citadel moved around, interacted with one another, and revealed their own 'relationships.' Eavesdropping on their supportive intercom conversations and their banter, listening to Joker and Garrus tell racist jokes about each others' species-- some of it was hysterical and some of it was quite touching. There were also some great scenes with Shepard that really showed how close these imaginary people have become.
None of that would have 'worked' if not for some praise-worthy performances by the actors, most of whom 'sold' me almost all of their material very effectively. And at risk of playing unfair favourites (because I've waited 5 years to romance Kaidan Alenko as another guy), I was especially wowed by Raphael Sbarge. He sounded superbly authentic to me, none of it came off as forced or fake, even in the novel role of the finally-realized same-sex romance. (Though Shepard's part in that first 'date' fell a bit flat for me-- equal parts the lines and the delivery, I think-- Kaidan felt really 'real.') And his 'farewell' at the London FOB was heart-wrenching, and changed my mind from "I want him safely as far away from me as possible" to "I couldn't imagine doing this without him by my side." It *would* have been nice to have seen a bit more of our ME2 squad-- I didn't realize how attached I'd actually gotten to them until their bodies started piling up-- but the story was coming full-circle and ultimately I don't mind that they were 'bit players.' They were assembled for a specific mission, it was accomplished, and not having experienced the Reapers' threat as directly as the original team did, they had lives to get back to. Even so, the QEC farewells from London were nonetheless really emotional for me.
And I found overall narrative outstanding; the invasion seemed urgent, its spread felt foreboding, Cerberus' interference sincerely made me *angry* at their meddling, and the push to reclaim Earth really had an 'epic' feel to it. Standing out as emblematic of how immersed and how invested I'd become, during the final battle through the streets of London, it was like I forgot medigel even existed and I fought harder than I think I ever have-- poetry in motion-- to 'defend' Kaidan. Nothing else I've watched or read or played has made me feel so protective of an imaginary person.
As for the much-derided ending(s). I'm unsympathetic to the complaints-- they strike me as churlish and smacking of "the customer is always right" entitlement. Yes, it was sad. Broke my heart in half a dozen different ways, but none of them because "I didn't get" my way, or all my questions answered, or a ticker-tape parade at the end. 'My' Shepard heroically offered up his life to end the threat to everything he loved, and while I could have asked for more-- I deeply longed for a 'happy ending'-- I couldn't presume to expect it given the scope. By that I mean: if Shep had survived then what? A hum-drum retirement? Death of old age? Because that would have been so much more satisfying. No, this was a good old fashioned epic-- given the stakes, victory was always bound to be pyrrhic and agonizing. You don't give birth to a new age without pain.
In the end I felt beat up. I was a mess. But I'd done what I set out to do. The Reapers were stopped and the people I cared about had a chance. There was ambiguity and worry and there were questions, but there was hope. I'd been reminded of feelings that often go untapped by blowing the reservoir wide open, and reminded I was alive by making me think about what a death could 'mean.' The notion that I deserved more-- that BioWare's storytelling artists "owed" me exactly what I wanted because I'd *chosen* to pay to experience this journey they crafted-- strikes me as self-centered. It was always their story to tell and ours to participate in, and I wasn't robbed at the end of any gun. That they gave me some freedom in how I experienced 90 or 99% of that story, that I got to see certain decisions play out over time and certain consequences reach fruition, never deluded me into thinking that I was the ultimate author. But I think audiences today are spoiled for information (the information age tells us nothing need go un-answered) and for 'choice' (often the choice is to escape, to shirk responsibility, and to brush off real consequences to have everything our way), and I think that makes the uproar over ME3's conclusion an indictment of 'bad readers' more than 'bad writers.'