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Reader review by Suskie
March 24, 2009 I’ve been gaming long enough to know what I enjoy. It’s not like there are certain games I’m not into just because I’m unaware of them – the genres I don’t play, I don’t play for a reason.So this is the second time now that I’ve tried to play Fahrenheit, or to be more specific, the second time a reviewing contest on HonestGamers has prompted me to do so. On the first attempt, the contest in question had its judges assigning the reviewers games to play and write about, based on, I don’t know, their own personal distaste for the contestants in question. (The name of the contest was “Because We Hate You.”) Through some tragic twist of fate, presumably inspired by my assertion that I’m one of the few people to ever bother with Sega CD emulation, I was assigned Fahrenheit, an old FMV game about, of all things, firefighting. This is an activity I can hardly imagine delivering any genuine excitement in the video game medium, unless I’m playing Conker’s Bad Fur Day, and Conker is getting drunk and pissing on little fire demons. I totally love that level.
Anyway: Yeah, firefighting. I gave the game a try, of course, but being unmotivated and (to be blunt) bored out of my fucking mind, I closed the window after about five minutes and was fairly certain I would never have to play the game again. But destiny, ever the ironic phenomenon that it is, came back to bite me square in the butt cheek, as now I have been tasked with reviewing a genre I have yet to tackle. Fate, it seems, is hell-bent on coaxing me into reviewing the graphic adventure (which may not be the correct term, but damned if I care). I accepted that Fahrenheit would haunt me like an ethereal stalker until I got this review out of the way, so it’s time to kill two birds with one stone. If the fine gentlemen behind BWHY are reading this: I hope you’ve got a backup plan in place for me this year.
So, Fahrenheit. It’s easiest to simply say that the game is exactly what it sounds like, and that if FMV-punctuated graphic adventure things are your cup of tea, and if one based around the concept of firefighting sounds even better, then sure, Fahrenheit will fit the ticket. To everyone else, it’s just as ridiculous as it sounds. Graphic adventures are something I avoid anyway, only barely touching upon the whole “interactivity” element that’s supposed to make video games so unique in the first place. I'd guess a good script and solid production values could rectify this – in fact, that’s probably the point – but in the primitive age of Fahrenheit, how great a presentation could you REALLY expect? I suppose the acting is passable and the environments really do look like actual burning buildings (suggesting that whoever’s responsible for making this game gave it more attention than it deserved), but even then: This is a game about firefighting. You just don’t go into something like this expecting a particularly compelling narrative.
My point is, if the judges of this contest are expecting anything but complete, unadulterated bias on the subject of a genre I’m entirely indifferent to, they’re kidding themselves. But I’ll approach anything with as open a mind as I can afford, even knowing what to expect. The extent to which you “play” Fahrenheit boils down to navigating burning houses and such by hitting arrow buttons under the pressure of a ten-second timer. If you’re too slow, the game will choose a direction for you, which on average leads to the same results. The FMV sequences are meant to follow your firefighter as he explores various rooms in each level, but they’re strung together so haphazardly that there’s no sense of direction; when my female companion warns me that we’re going in circles, I think, “Really? I thought we were making impeccable progress.” You never know what you’re supposed to be doing or where you’re supposed to be going, and as such, letting the game play itself (i.e. masturbate) and leaving the results up to pure chance is as smart a tactic as any – plus it’s more entertaining, since you can do something less boring in the meantime.
My most significant venture into the first burning house (this was after a failed attempt, in which I somehow blew up) led me through a number of key events: My partner found a gas-powered lamp. I wandered into a room wherein someone commented on its valuable contents being burned to ashes, and I cringed at the realization that they probably had to actually burn this stuff to make this footage. What a waste. My character opened a cabinet and nearly got his face blown off by a lick of stray flame. And then, stairs. Evidently, my mission was to rescue some child (or maybe it was a pet), and it occurred to me that whatever I’m meant to save is probably upstairs, because why not, that makes things more inconvenient. So, up I went.
And here’s where things get weird: I got attacked by a dinosaur.
Yes, a dinosaur. Like, one of those big reptilian beasts that have been extinct for millions of years. One of those inexplicably reared its head through a second-story wall, sending the already weak foundations of the building crumbling. Ever faithful to its ten-second deadline, Fahrenheit gave me that long to find a way out, and the three arrows presented to me on screen left little doubt: AWAY from the inexplicable dinosaur would probably be best. I told you I only played about five minutes of this game the first time, which means I must not have made it to the dinosaur part back then. I would surely have remembered this, and subsequently kept playing.
Oddly enough, this was the last mention made of the dinosaur. In the next room, the tone of the constant babble between my firefighter buddies and our correspondents outside remained suitably tense, but I’d attribute this to that fact that we were in a burning building; in retrospect, my partner’s inability to acknowledge the fact that a fucking dinosaur had just smashed into the house, other than a cautionary “watch out,” was hilarious. I wish I’d had more time to reflect upon this, but I had to trudge on, lest the ten-second time limit make the worst of me.
The next room was on fire. The room after that was not, and that’s where I found the little boy, sitting at a table, playing chess. With no one. Across from him was an empty chair, and the on-screen arrows made my choice clear: Go forward, and sit. I made this decision somehow completely resigned to the fact that there was no fire in THIS particular part of the house. No urgency. Even the radio chatter had cut out, my partner seemed to have wandered off, and the meter on the side of the screen displaying my own O2 consumption had vanished. I was clearly meant to sit at this table and play chess with this boy.
In a rather poignant scene, my firefighter waved his flashlight in the direction of the table and examined the chess board. I, of course, had no time to study the layout of the pieces very thoroughly (still under a ten-second deadline), but I was nevertheless prompted to make my move, with a choice of three arrows. Left? Sure, why not. My character silently moved a knight, to which the child countered with his queen. And then, the game returning to first-person, my character looked in the child’s eyes. They were solid white, with no pupils or irises. He spoke in a deep, almost demonic voice: “The time has come to make a decision, Michael.” How did the game know my name? When once again prompted with the three arrows, I didn’t know what to do. I let the timer tick down, my character nervously panning to and fro, until he finally settled on “right.”
The house was gone. My firefighter was sitting in a forest in broad daylight, still in front of the chess table. Across from him was an old man, frail, on his last breath. Only three pieces remained: My king, and his king and queen. Was my firefighter attempting to stall into an eventual stalemate, knowing full well that a victory was entirely out of his reach, according to the rules of chess? I was prompted once again to make a move, and, in a confused, dreamlike state, I chose up. My king moved one space. The old man smiled, displaying toothless gums in the process, and moved his queen into its final position. Checkmate. The man coughed and laid his head down to rest upon the chess board. The finality of death embraced him.
And I lifted my own head. Half of my face was wet, plastered with saliva. I stared hazy-eyed at my laptop screen, where my Fahrenheit ROM was still running on autopilot, my character still wandering aimlessly (and rather stupidly) through that first burning house. I scanned the dark room I was sitting in, looked at the clock, chuckled almost drunkenly, and closed the window of my Sega CD emulator. I have made peace with Fahrenheit at last.
And to think: I can’t even play this game when it’s required of me. Why play it for fun?
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