For Whom The Bellic Tolls

NOTE: This blog will contain GTA IV spoilers from all points of the game's storyline. Don't read it if you don't want it spoiled. I ain't taking any responsibility for you ruining the plotline for yourself if you read on, so don't have a go at me. Ta.

Update: Thank you Sarcastic Gamer for putting this up on the site!

------------------------------------------------



Having just finished GTA IV's story a night or so ago, it got me thinking about all the new features of the game and which was my favourite. Was it the proper implementation of an immersive world where the radio and internet media reported on your every move? The way every person reacts to you, whether they trip over your legs, tumble down the stairs or limp away after suffering a gunshot wound to the leg? The epic soundtrack of The Journey ramping up the tension before a big mission? Or was it simply being able to put on the Honkers theme and a ringtone of an OAP breaking her hip before calling my cousin and going for a drink?

Truth be told, I love all of these features as much as the next guy, and I am in no way doubting the effect they have on the GTA IV experience. However, none of the fantastic new gameplay features, physics engines or tiny little details make this game for me. What really makes this game for me is the character of Niko Bellic.

For one, Niko is hardly a likely candidate for a Scarface-style takeover of the city, nor is he going to be considered the next governor, running alongside the game's other competitors in the hilarious smear campaign. Whereas Tommy Vercetti oozed Ray Liotta cool and it was awesome following him on his climb up the ladder to the top of Vice City, and it was nice to an extent to build up CJ's rep, muscle and private jet collection as he dominated the entire state of San Andreas, Niko is a regular guy. He's vulnerable and hardly up for trying to rule a city he's just emigrated to illegally. Fresh from the Third Balkan War and ready to receive the fast cars and plastic whores promised to him by his cousin Roman, Niko is convinced he's got it made after suffering in the war - his own remorse distilled by the sheer amount of death in the conflict. Naturally, Roman's talking BS and our man Niko is stuck in a dinghy apartment in the Brooklyn-esque neighbourhood of Broker. Not exactly what he had in mind.

It's a great set-up for once, and not just because of the stylish intro. Claude Speed (the mute protagonist of GTA III) Tommy Vercetti and CJ were all living great, normal lives until they ran into one form of a stick-up or another, and the entire plotline revolves around their attempts to climb back up to the top. It's hardly riveting because you know what's going to happen at the end. Here though, we're in just as unfamiliar a situation as Niko - in new, uncharted territory with no idea where we're going next. It's from here on in that for the first time, I was genuinely interested in a GTA story which had more to offer than just a rise to the top.

What's great too is the sense of attachment that you get when you play as Niko. Not only because the camera is a lot more up-close and personal than it has been in previous games - even clothes shopping feels personal since the camera is focused on him checking himself out in his new gear, rather than stepping in and out of a TARDIS wardrobe - but because you craft him as a character. I'm not talking physical crafting, San Andreas-style; making CJ fat/ripped/look like Mr T was great fun but it still felt purely cosmetic, since it really was. San Andreas' idea of customisation was far too mechanical and lacking in heart and personality - after all, when talking with friends about 'your' CJ, it was only a matter of time before you were all bragging that you'd achieved Hitman level with the Uzis or that you had all gained max muscle. In GTA IV the customisation still exists at a cosmetic level, but to a lesser extent - there are only 4 clothes shops in Liberty City, 2 of them of the same brand, and nothing else is physically changeable. The real customisation lies within Niko himself. In choosing which friends to call, which venues to visit, which girlfriend you go for (Carmen for the casual sex or Kiki for the meaningful yet clingy tenderness?) you shape Niko in your own way, as if you are Niko Bellic, as if this is your own story to carve. In the days of old, when my friends and I would talk of how "Tommy shot a policeman" or how "CJ dived out the car into the sea" but when talking about Niko now I keep saying how "I dived out the way of a police car" or the way that "I notched up a perfect barrel roll in a Turismo". In giving you less of the physical and more of the emotional baggage with Niko's character, Rockstar have handed you an essentially empty space, in a brand new place with a story to craft from the start; and it feels like your own story every step of the way.

This personality complex that develops as you play further into the game becomes more intense as Niko is introduced to new faces and says goodbye to old ones. I shared Niko's worry over steroid-addled Brucie, but rolled my eyes and laughed at his 'genetically different' radio adverts; I smiled as Roman called me up to say he was marrying Mallorie, and raged at those holding him hostage; I even winced when Michelle turned out to be a government agent. However, the relationship you build with Niko boils down deeper than this - as Niko became a marked man by crimelords, I was determined to seek revenge on the men who had double-crossed me - the satisfaction Niko felt when he capped Vlad in the eye was not his alone, but mine too. Niko's want to simply get by rather than take over the city for himself was shared - I was happy as the money rolled into Niko's account, our cold-bloodedness raking us in the Benjamins, satisfied that I could head down to Perseus and buy that onyx suit.

Towards the end of the game, this bond between character and player grows ever-tighter as you are given tough decisions to make - do you kill crooked Francis, or mentally-unstable Derrick? Spare Dwayne's ex or murder her just because he's bitter? And of course, the final, ultimately fatal decision - whether to terminate Dimitri, or work with him. In my decision to terminate him - I, like Niko, had no desire to make any more money, with $400,000 comfortably in the Bank of Liberty and the security of a growing relationship with Kate McReary. In abandoning my mob employer, however, my sense of responsibility for those I cared about - Roman, Mallorie, Kate - disappeared as I drove to the docks to kill the man who had troubled me for my entire time in Liberty. After I'd killed Dimitri, I was satisfied that everything was over - problems were dealt with, friendships were strong and I felt happy that Niko's own situation was going well, his own cold-bloodedness swept aside as his feelings for Kate grew. When Kate was gunned down in front of the church in Algonquin, I felt angry with myself, stupid and hurt. The characters I had gotten to know were being taken away from me and truth be told, it felt like I had lost a real friend, such was the level of immersion that the storyline offered. The final mission with Roman and Little Jacob felt like the greatest all-American buddy boy scene from any movie you can imagine - Bad Boys, Superbad, anything of the sort, with my friends standing by me to the bitter end.

And what of the ending? Niko's own words of his non-existent redemption echoed my own thoughts - I'd killed those who had wronged me, I had money, I should have been happy. Why then, after a distraught call from Kate's brother, did I jump on my motorbike, turn off the radio, and cruise the Liberty freeways with nothing but the sound of the Hellfury's engine for company? I felt empty, like everything had been resolved but I'd gained nothing from it, just like Niko. The ending was sore and down-to-earth - the first truly realistic ending in any Grand Theft Auto, where you don't just win, because life doesn't work like that. Even now, a day or so after finishing the game, I still feel that emptiness when I watch I'm Rich on CNT, or when I hail a taxi to take me to the cabaret club in Hove Beach. It feels like there's something missing with friendships severed, despite Roman, Jacob and company being there for me, and I have no doubt that this is how Niko Bellic feels too.

The sheer emotional attachment that you create - and to an extent, suffer - with Niko is unparalleled in any other game, never mind any other GTA. Not with Nathan Drake did I really share his joy at claiming heaps of treasure, nor did I quite feel the happiness of Snake and Otacon as they zoomed off into the Alaskan sunrise. With Niko, I suffered every last bump, every single up and down, to the bitter, downbeat end of his tale. He was me, I had created him, and at the same time, in making my own, selfish, vengeful decision, I destroyed him, and that choice stuck with me long after I turned the game off, and I have a feeling it will for a very long time.

Forget any other feature of this awe-inspiring game - as incredible a technical achievement as they may be, they will not grab you as harshly and as deeply as the tragic tale of your very own Niko Bellic.