Hey there, Plugged-Inners. I’ve already written a full Plugged In review of the latest Grand Theft Auto game that recently hit the market. (You know, the one that sold, oh, about a gazillion copies within minutes of its release.) But I’m thinking this is one of those games that deserves a little more than just an overview of its story and content. This baby deserves a personal opinion or … three.
So here are mine: Boo. Hiss. Bleck.
Now, for all you rabid GTA fans out there who might’ve wandered onto this blog by accident and are now boiling with fury, please don’t think me totally devoid of understanding. I’m not an old, uptight hater. I’ve mashed buttons on many a title in every genre and certainly understand the enjoyment of a well-made game. And I’m sure that all those “10 out of 10” and “A+” GTA V reviews from respected game sites are based on some solid well-considered reasons.
This is personal opinion time, though. (Ah, the joys of a blog.) My hiss has some well-considered reasons, too. And they all have to do with the nasty world GTA V immerses its gamers in for 100-plus hours.
C’mon, even the thumbs-up crowd can admit it: This is one retched place. There have been at least a couple of reviewers out there who have mentioned GTA V’s misogynistic treatment of women. This is a city where women are inane loudmouths, tramp-stamped daughters, purple-mohawked thieves, cheating wives with too much time on their hands, crackheads offering sexual services or, well, sexual service pros. And the game doesn’t allow you to do much more than kill them or solicit them.
And the guys? Well, they’re even worse. Pretty much all of them are f-word-burbling cheats, thugs, torturers, pimps and madmen. Am I being too general? OK, let me narrow my focus and pick one. Uh, how about the paparazzo photog that we run into? I didn’t talk much about him in my review. He sends us off to make a secret sex tape recording, among other things. When first meeting this guy he’s ranting about celebrities saying, “Because they all think they’re gods, right? Well f‑‑‑ them! F‑‑‑ THEM! F‑‑‑ THEM, F‑‑‑ THEM! F‑‑‑! THEM! F‑‑‑ them, they’re not magic, no, they’re no better than me!”
Now there’s a classy guy.
Is that a special, really raw example plucked out of the virtual populace, you ask? Nah. Pretty average, actually. When you get to fellows like Trevor, a character the gushing reviewer at ign.com described as “a psychopath whose bloodthirsty lunacy is fuelled by a combination of methamphetamine and a seriously messed-up childhood,” you jack the queasy dial up quite a bit. (He’s a guy you’d love to have your daughter bring home for Thanksgiving, don’t you think?)
My point, of course, is that the Rockstar gamemaking gang is creating this nasty world of perverse, twisted people as something we’re supposed to lounge around in for “fun.” We’re intended to chuckle at this foul caustic mirror image of our American society. Keep in mind that what I mentioned above is just a quick description of some of the people we meet in this game. When you really get playing, you get to join them in rampant thievery, graphic torture and brutal murdering. Now there’s some fun.
I gotta tell you, spending a few hours with these damaged digitals made me want to take a virtual car and drive far, far away to a peaceful digital cave. You can refer to the ugly depths this game sinks to as satire if you want, but GTA V’s shameless exaltation of everything vile, painful and titillatingly puerile makes for a nasty pool to wallow in, no matter how much you enjoy free-roaming gameplay.
OK. So now I’ve vented. That’s enough of my opinions. How about these?
“For me, the torture scene wasn’t fun. It left me bewildered and unhappy …”
“Every female in the game exists solely to be sneered, leered or laughed at …”
“Your time in Los Santos may leave you with a few psychological scars …”
I’d agree with each and every one. And those are quotes from reviewers who really liked this funky bunkum.
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