Black Coffee and Cigarrettes
I think I enjoyed L.A. Noire. Well, at least, I know it’s an important game: it’s important because the technology (finally) captures decent facial emotion and because Rockstar breaks the silent-protagonist curse. The worst part of L.A. Noire was when I was playing the game; this sounds harsh but I did really enjoy the game. Albeit lengthy, at no point did I become exhausted of the numerous and somewhat similar tricks of drive to destination, talk to local lackeys at said destination, investigate clues of destination and then drive to a new destination. The characters, ranging from major partners to minor characters, that usually end up lying, are well fleshed out and truly are the best part of L.A. Noire. One can’t really blame them for lying to Cole Phelps, who is a stiff cop with no time for bullshit. He is abrasive, loud and always impatient; however, he is an honest cop, surrounded by crooked ones (no surprise), who will do anything (including backstabbing) to get ahead. When he does finally slip up, he is judged under great scrutiny from the media, and the station alike.
The “gamey” parts were when I became disengaged with the story and characters. When repetitious lines like “Isn’t that the cop who…” and constantly smashing into stuff while driving became overbearing, I did the best I could to avoid these elements such as always letting my partner drive.
L.A. Noire is a sad game. It starts sad and it ends sad. It wasn’t until the end, however, did I realize how affecting the cast of characters and how the story all comes together actually were. It will be remembered as the first of it’s kind to include groundbreaking technology to show human emotion in a world where emotion is so quickly overshadowed by other aspects such as graphics and power-ups. It is a case-study on an archetypal cop trying to survive in a dog-eat-dog world. Those unwilling to adapt won’t survive.
