BioWare

One of BioWare's earlier achievements, and one that helped cement their present reputation as the figurehead of what RPGs can achieve, KOTOR's an easy game to criticize in retrospect. From the release of Baldur's Gate in 1998 to Mass Effect just 10 years later, most every RPG released by BioWare would follow the same mass-produced, literally by-the-books Hero's Quest outline—i.e., each game’s plot felt like a meeting of forced expectations, sometimes satisfying and sometimes mind-numbing show more in their predicted delivery—a choice that simultaneously made their products restrictive holds against and necessary stepping stones for advancing the depth possible in video game story-telling.

But who cares, right? KOTOR tells a generic Star Wars story with mostly generic Star Wars characters, meeting every generic Star Wars expectation a gamer could ask for right down to the tired, required lines, but it does so almost flawlessly, to such an extent that its seemingly pedestrian qualities make it among the most fun and accessible modern RPG experiences and Star Wars stories. In an age-old formula so noticeable and so repeated some players even refer to it as "the BioWare Cliché," a faceless variable with a background too vague and mysterious to be taken seriously, recognized by everyone around them as vitally important is thrown into the midst of a universal conflict against a threatening Force of Unfathomable Evil. As their life is turned upside down against their better judgment, they’re guided by close mentors friends, one of whose personality’s teeters on the edge of simply being Han Solo before he’s overcome by emotional turmoil (and the personality traits are thusly handed off to a snarky youngster and her wookie companion), the other a sassy, sexy Obi-Wan-Leia hybrid.* Through thick and thin, unsurprising twists and heart-wrenching betrayal, they form a series of close bonds and pass the required tests necessary to rid the galaxy of malice once and for all.

To actually talk of the story in spite of personal feelings…

Dropping the vague references to clichés repeated, KOTOR stars a young nobody, canonically male, her past just barely customizable to the point of ineffectuality, being shipped under unspoken circumstances that end under the galaxy-wide Jedi Civil War igniting her hidden potential in the Force (à la Luke Skywalker) over an introduction spent making friends and escaping the occupied planet-city Taris. Under the tutelage of these newfound friends, she hones her skills in the Force, strained physically and morally under four major tests of heroism across beloved planets like Tatooine and Kashyyk. What she and her entourage seek, they seek in the footsteps of the Sith Lord Malak and his former master Revan—deceased: betrayal, Siths, &c.**—, piecing together an alien map in order to understand what massive power source drove those two to Team Slytherin, or, like, whatever.

Their fall is itself a story existing partially outside the game’s bounds, a series of events that took place after the culmination of the Mandalorian Wars—the galaxy’s previous Big Mistake and a war led by the war-mongering culture of Mandalore, a bone-headed, unlikeable civilization modeled after a single facet of humanity, their sole goal to enslave or destroy everyone just because. The backdrop of this war’s aftermath fuels the chaotic political state in KOTOR; it was a war in which the Jedi stood by, watching—idling on the decision of whether their place included interference—and yet a war won almost single-handedly the two previously-mentioned Jedi, rationalizing the need to defend freedoms and lives threatened by Mandalore’s conquest.

Krayt dragons, wookie tribes, life debts, Klingons, Jawas and their sandcrawlers, planets being razed from space, half-naked old men running around star ships, limitless sources of unimaginable power, lost alien civilizations, bland villains—KOTOR has everything you expect and love from a Star Wars tale, wrapped and guided by the massive conflict of good and evil fighting over mythopoeic indulgence. The central theme of mythology itself, abused by Lucas and now by BioWare, here works as a symbol of their aging morality mechanics. Following this game, treading those grey areas became a duty, even if it took a couple stories and universes to figure out how to present believably.

But to refer back to mechanics, impact, importance…

As an RPG born in 2003, it almost can’t help but tread that line between oldschool and new-, providing a strategic (but accessible, simplified) battle-management system that lets you plan the course of every encounter at your own pace, coupled with real-time decision-making and exciting action full of lasers and light sabers and lightning-quick force powers and, uhm, grenades, I guess—just with dice rolls, added and appreciated: beloved mechanic of chance in things past. The leveling system also stands as one of BioWare's most fluid and functional (opposed to, say, Mass Effect’s messy, meaningless overdose of options and numbers), letting players tread lines however customizable they can get to the point of breaking the game, i.e., as with many RPGs prior to this last generation, it’s not exactly difficult to customize your character to the point that whatever plot point is impassibly difficult, i.e., multiple save files are strongly suggested.

And as such an RPG—particularly an early BioWare RPG—it took some shocking dares in character design: HK-47, the fan-favorite assassin droid prefaces every delivered line with the emotional intent behind them, creating a stir of always-contemptuous black humor and irony; and Jolee Bindo, whose entire presence—a good man sitting comfortably on the line between the series’ Dark and Light Sides, quick to point out the flaws (and outright stupidity) inherent in the tenets of the Jedi Knight code, seen since Star Wars hit theatres as the sign of humble goodness absolute—hints at the brilliant postmodern deconstruction Star Wars would get in Obsidian's ambitious sequel. They let us know lead-author Drew Karpshyn was capable of a lot more than farting out game-y, Saturday Morning dialogue and fetch quests by the dozens even when limited by that bullet-point list of Quest-with-a-Q requirements presumably pinned above every employee’s desk.

That line, that greyed-out line Jolee walks so obscurely, also brings to the forefront major flaws in BioWare’s championship of the modern RPG format. Areas of grey don’t apply much outside of his character or even BioWare’s RPGs prior to Mass Effect 2, but the forceful impact of choice has been their calling card (and oftentimes selling point) since 1998. When choice arises in dialogue or action, the writers strive to bring the sense that you’re calling the shots, that you’re the center of whatever story and the acting force that shapes its conclusion. Those choices, unfortunately, amount to either following that path of charity and sacrifice defined by the Jedi code, or make your avatar sound like a cartoon asshole tossing out petty insults like danged candy, laughing maniacally as they steal from and murder everyone just because it feels good. Under this system, choices often amount to little more than variations on the lines “I’d love to help clothe and feed you!” or “I don’t have time for your stupid babble.” And that never makes sense with whatever narrative is being told: Why would these characters follow these bad decisions? Why would this person fall in love with this monstrous cliché?

Are these aged mechanics and writing a bad thing? I would definitely argue No, despite the lingering force of Internet backlash BioWare gets from more critical players. The ambition driving this illusion of meaning in player choice has only improved and grown more bewilderingly ambitious with every game BioWare’s released, the massive steps taken between each a necessary movement culminating in (as of 2013) the phenomenon that is the Mass Effect trilogy, a series driven successfully by the player choice and personal involvement all their previous RPGs like KOTOR strived towards. It may have taken a lot of trial-‘n’-error gambits—still ongoing—but it doesn’t mean the errors are necessarily mistakes, and it certainly doesn’t mean they aren’t worth experiencing when they’re this danged fun.

*Oh god wait what?

**Winky-goshdanged-blinky. show less

I played Dragon Age: Origins three or four years after it came out. I was so impressed with the roleplaying aspects—all the dialogue with your party! I had only really played Oblivion and Skyrim before it, and Dragon Age was refreshing in how the plot kept you focused. There are side quests, but nothing like in the Elder Scrolls games. Anyway, I was enchanted. Stayed up all night playing the game. And then, I don’t want to give anything away, but before the final boss battle, I had to show more make a moral decision that made it so one of my best in my party abandoned me. Then I couldn’t defeat the final boss. Then I stopped playing. All because I wanted to be a good character! Fast forward 4 years later. I just played it again—loved it again the whole time—and then had to abandon my moral high ground at the end so I could keep my party member. It was slightly disappointing to have to make a choice I didn’t want to, but very gratifying to finish the game.
Sorry, that’s my sad story. Anyway, the game is great, will play it again as a different character since there are a lot of different options. It was a little buggy—there were at least two different side quests I couldn’t finish because of bugs—but not unplayable. show less

This game was even better than the first one! I liked the strength of the story in the first one--you are a Gray Warden, you have purpose, you have a mission--and I feel like that sense of purpose is lacking a little in Hawke's story, but I think that is in some ways more liberating. Hawke is a much more fun character to play. The Gray Warden (and maybe it's because they can't actually talk) seems a little stiff in comparison. The detail in the worlds is (obviously) better than the first show more one, but I was disappointed that you couldn't upgrade your companions' armor and weapons in the same way you could in the previous game. I did like the specialization system better in the second game. I also like how the game was separated into three acts, though I feel like there were a whole lot more side quests in Act 1, and then Act 2 and 3 went by really fast. I also really enjoyed that when you import your character it affects this game. I was so excited to see Alistair again! And it made me want to play both the games for a second time in a different way to see how the first affects the second. show less

Marginally better than other MMOs due to story, dialogue, and roleplaying potential (though not all class stories are equally entertaining). Standard boring as fuck MMO combat: lots of running from quest point to quest point, avoiding mobs when you can; cycling between two or three buttons until the target is dead when you can't. I've started this up maybe five times total over the years, and usually end up quitting after a day or two, when the pointlessness of what I'm doing begins to weigh show more on me. This could be good, with more challenging combat, better loot, rewarding player exploration, and less grind -- letting the story, conversations, and companions take center stage. Basically if this weren't an MMO and Bioware just made another single-player Star Wars roleplaying game? show less