So this weekend I finished Bastion. Yeah, yeah, I know, it takes me a long time to finish games. I earned two Bastion trophies early last year, and this weekend, I finished the rest of the game with my girlfriend. Why the sudden interest?
Credit to Supergiant Games for this image. Click for link.
Weirdly, it had to do with PAX. See, Supergiant Games had a booth showing Bastion’s initial prototype, just to show how the world building and movement might work. It was massively unfinished in so many ways, but I thought this was utterly delightful. They told me that they just had random images from sprites (D&D monsters, etc) just to get the game playable and moving.
Despite the early point in development, I was shocked at how smoothly it played. The basic idea of Bastion was there, recognizable. My girlfriend was curious about how the game turned out, so I promised her we’d play it. Bastion’s chances only went up when the talented Video Game Orchestra sang Build That Wall, although tragically, I hadn't actually heard it in-game yet. So we sort of had to play it.
We picked up Friday night from where I had left off, an hour or two into the game. We finished it after two more long sessions. And we loved it. I’m disappointed in myself for not finishing it until now. (We then started Fez, and I have an eerie feeling it’s going to be unfinished until next year, but we’ll see how things go). Now I’m going to talk about it, and I will spoil a few things. If you don’t want spoilers, just go and buy it, then come back. It’s that good.
SPOILER WARNING!
Bastion
The weird thing about writing about Bastion is that I don’t really care to talk about the gameplay. It’s not that the gameplay was bad: it was excellent. It’s an isometric beat ‘em up where you play as The Kid and are tasked with retrieving pieces of your Bastion after a Calamity wiped out your world. Along the way, you get to play with a wide variety of steampunk guns and melee weapons as you fight the monsters that still inhabit the broken landscape. Combat and movement is super-tight, and is difficult without being punishing. You can bring two weapons (plus your glorious shield) with you on each level, and you can mix & match to your heart’s content. And if length is what you’re worried about, don’t be: Bastion has a large number of levels & weaponry, weapon-specific challenges and three longer challenge stages, plus a New Game+. But you shouldn’t be worried about length, and gameplay isn’t what interests me the most about Bastion, so let’s move on.
Talking ‘bout Talking
You can’t talk about Bastion without talking about it’s talking. The narration pretty much makes Bastion, and it uses a technique I haven’t seen used much since Star Fox 64. Bastion’s cutscenes are few and far between, and they’re short. Yet Bastion tells an incredibly compelling story, details all the areas you travel to, and presents interesting characters, because the entire story is told while you play. This can occasionally be distracting, and I know I missed some parts of the narration during particularly hairy fights, which is slightly disconcerting. But I was incredibly hooked by the narration, the premise that this Stranger is telling you the story. Is he leaving parts out? Why is he telling this story, and who is he telling it to? And why is his voice so perfect for this narrative?
The narration didn’t just tell the story. It also detailed the characters, but also the levels. When you enter the Mines, the Stranger would talk about the mines, what they were used for, how critical they were to Caelondia. Entering Colford’s Cauldron would prompt stories about the cauldron, philosophizing about what goes wrong with man plays with nature, and musings on the bothersome enemies there. Each level was a chunk of interesting stuff to listen to.
In short, Bastion’s narration is utterly fantastic. If you have to play it muted for whatever reason, don’t even bother.
On a more technical level, I was impressed by the variety of narration. I never heard a repeated line, and on the few times where I had to retry levels, I heard unused lines of narration. And the narration didn’t “run out of steam” near the end: the Stranger is with you the entire way through. The sheer amount of recorded audio is impressive, as is the fact that you never hear duplication.
Oh, and yes, Bastion is absolutely beautiful. It’s almost like playing a painting. Some people think post-apocalyptic is all grey and musty, and while it probably would be, Bastion shows that it can be incredibly colourful. The art style is utterly gorgeous, and the trick of having parts of the world build themselves around you never got old. I really can’t say any more about it, except with an image:
Credit to Supergiant Games for the screenshot of The Kid fighting Windbags. Click for a link.
See? Beautiful. Told you. Moving along.
Build That Wall
Another thing I noticed about Bastion is how sad it is. This might be a surprise, if you haven’t played much of it. After all, you’re working to rebuild the Bastion, right? Pieces of the world are falling all around you. How cool is that? How could it be sad?
Everything else, really. The narration isn’t an excited movie-voice, or even a funny Prince of Persia; it’s a world weary Stranger. Someone who is tired, grieving for his lost world, and guilty about his role what happened. There’s virtually no other voice work in the whole game, except for the music (and she isn’t exactly singing about peace and happiness, either). All the characters have had tough lives: the Kid taking repeated shifts on the Wall, then returning home to find his mother dead and his money gone. Zulf’s marriage beginning minutes before the Calamity. Zia’s father, forced to work to destroy his own people. Even the ending of the game doesn’t provide a lot of happiness: should you be optimistic and possibly let the Calamity happen again, or leave the city wiped out and simply move on? The story told is a sad one, and the ending doesn’t necessarily end on an optimistic note. That said, I picked Evacuation (move on), and I think it was the right choice.
Bastion immediately presented me with a New Game+ option, but even if I had the time for that, I’d still decline it. To me, Bastion told it’s story, and told it perfectly. I was hanging on to every scrap of information I could get from the Stranger, and inferring quite a bit more. But it’s done, it’s over, and while I’m sad that it ended, I’m sad in a good way. And it’s concluded, so I probably won’t play again. One of the ending options sort of builds in New Game+ in a very logical way ("rebooting" Caeldonia), but in my game, The Kid chose to move on and explore new territory. And so that's what I'll do.
I will, however, be listening to the soundtrack again. And again. And again. I recommend that you not listen to it until after you’ve beaten Bastion. None of it will spoil the game, but the music fits the areas and atmosphere of the game so perfectly it’s best to let them be tied together naturally before enjoying the music independently. And trust me, you will enjoy the music afterwards.
Credit to Supergiant Games for the screenshot of The Kid firing his Scrap Musket, my favourite weapon in Bastion. Click for a link.
Questions
Bastion is often an ambiguous game, and a lot of things are left up to the player to decide for themselves. When I was talking about Zulf to my girlfriend, I had a realization about him. Zulf’s story (Calamity kills his new wife, he goes and finds those responsible, then destroys them) could easily be the plot to a number of games, including Bastion. The fact that he is portrayed as a villain is only because we’re in control of The Kid and we hear The Stranger as our narrator, even though Caelondia was the initial aggressor in the war, even though Caelondia caused the Calamity. Zulf’s initial actions were not those of a villain, but rather of somebody who experienced extreme loss. It’s hard to consider him a villain, which is why I saved him at the end of the game.
The Stranger’s story is also ambiguous as well. He’s clearly a scientist of some sort (he can fashion a Calamity Cannon from spare parts, after all), and he helps rebuild the Bastion. He also designed the Wall which The Kid served. Still, his exact role in the story is ambiguous. What role did he play in the Calamity? Was he responsible, directly or indirectly? And how does he know so much about The Kid? Some theories state that they have no connection, while others state that he’s The Kid’s absentee father. I like that theory, but there’s also the theory that The Stranger somehow represents The Kid having made the choice for the Bastion to perform Restoration and essentially go back in time. There’s no real evidence to support this (even if the Bastion did restore an earlier time, why would The Kid go back and then age to The Stranger’s age?) but I have a fondness for that theory, probably due to my love of Lost.
Coming Home
This wasn’t intended to be a long review like this: I sort of wanted to just spout about how much I enjoyed Bastion, and then go to sleep. But here I am, ~1500 words laster, still writing about it. And I have more to say, but it’s 4AM, so I’d rather you play it and say it yourself.
So go! You can pick it up on the Xbox Live Marketplace, nab it from Steam ($15), or even play it in your Chrome web browser from the Chrome App Store Marketplace Doodad. I really don’t see why you’re still here.
Edit (April 22, 9:08PM): I have one other thing to say about Bastion, and the fine people who make it. Weirdly, their Twitter bio states "Our goal is to make games spark your imagination like the games you played as a kid". They certainly did that: playing Bastion instills a sense of wonder and curiosity and exploration I don't feel in a lot of modern games.
At the same time, I think that understates the beauty of Bastion. It felt oddly adult, despite the bright colours and the playable Kid. The themes, narrative, and even the ending: Bastion has no final boss. But it still ends. It takes courage to do that. Anyways, I don't have a central point to this final postscript, other than to say that their Twitter bio definitely undersells Bastion.