The Game Boy: Why Bastion Succeeds Where Most Games Fail Miserably

Posted 09/21/2011 at 12:02pm | by Nathan Grayson

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Note: This week's entry contains major Bastion spoilers. If you haven't played Bastion, I recommend that you skip to the third page. Also, while we're at it, warning: This week's entry is three pages long. I may have gotten a bit carried away. If you hate words, I recommend that you skip to the part where you buy Bastion. 

Bastion is about moving forward. With every step you take, tiles of all shapes and sizes rise up to meet your footfalls. What lies ahead may be uncertain, but one way or another, you'll make it. Occasionally, you'll encounter former citizens of Caelondia – now frozen in ash, dead to the world in all but appearance. THOCK. The Kid's hammer reduces them to powder in an instant. The Kid presses on – without remorse, as though his old friends and neighbors were no more important than a random crate, shrub, or similarly minor impediment. Meanwhile, Rucks – the narrator – doesn't bat an eyelash, instead opting to list off a factoid or two about the deceased-turned-dust-clouds before dispassionately sweeping the whole incident under the rug. It's all in the past now, and the past only gets in the way.

Bastion also offers flashbacks, but not in the traditional sense. The narrator attempts to spin a tear-jerker of a yarn while you stave off increasingly difficult waves of enemies. Before long, though, it becomes nearly impossible to do both. So, pick your poison: Will you listen to wistful tales of days gone by or fight to make sure you live to see another day? At first, this seems like a perplexing and fairly frustrating design choice, but – intentional or not – it drives home a point: Past or present, there's always a battle to be fought. And if you don't fight? Well then, you die – simple as that. The creatures you're killing all throughout your journey could very well be the last of their kind. But it's either them or you. You have to press forward.

And then there's Zulf. When he discovers the true method behind the Calamity's seeming madness, he's driven to bury the Bastion, a device capable of re-weaving the very fabrics of time itself. He wants to move on. So Zulf decides it's necessary to strike down anyone standing in his way – you included. It's better, he thinks, than the alternative. But he fails utterly – just like the Calamity before him. Even so, more people die because of Zulf's choice. Many more. Out of all that, though, comes one incredible moment.

Zulf is ultimately stabbed in the back by his Ura clansmen, and you can either charge in, stare them straight in the eyes, and send each and every one fearfully fleeing into early graves, or you can drop your weapon, pick up Zulf's barely breathing form, and carry him to safety. It's your call.

Zulf, though, is heavier than a small, pale twig of a man has any right to be, and the Kid struggles to heft his apparently dense girth. So you stumble into a room full of Zulf's countrymen, muscles snapping, crackling, and generally doing their best impression of a bowl of Rice Krispies under the strain of Zulf's weight.

The Ura immediately open fire. It's too late to turn back, though. You can only move forward. So you get shot. A lot. Swigging health potions like cool, refreshing water in a desert made of wasabi is the only way to stay alive – and even then, death's door is only centimeters away from slamming into your face. Still, you press forward. Nothing will stop you. Nothing can stop you. And that's when the Ura realize what's going on. Slowly but surely, they lower their weapons and watch as you limp past. One tries to fire again. His superior kills him in cold blood. You escape as the Ura look on in unison.

You return to the Bastion. Finally, you can restore it. You can start over. You can kill the Calamaity before it harms a hair on anyone's head. Or can you? Rucks isn't so sure. Maybe  you'll just drop the ball again. Maybe you're already stuck in one big, misery packed infinite loop. Suddenly, Zulf's motivations make sense. As the flashback segments revealed, Caelondia was wealthy, sure, but not the greatest place. Its people and social structures -- while not necessarily evil -- wronged the Kid, Zulf, and Zia, and oppressed the Ura. Why bring back that?

But the Bastion can burn out its battery with another feature. It can fly away. It can take your dysfunctional little post-apocalyptic family wherever you want to go. The answer, then, is obvious: You keep going. Away from all the violence. Toward a better future. Or maybe a worse one. It doesn't matter. You move forward. A lot of people screwed up. Now it's up to you to set things right.