It seems peculiarly coincidental. As Walter White’s story mercifully reaches its heart-palpation inducing finale, “Grand Theft Auto V” introduces a triumvirate of criminals ready to endear themselves to our sympathetic souls. Whether any of these characters are worthy of any misplaced adoration is another story. However, in the wake of Walter White’s defenders, even in these past few brutal weeks, examining the concept of passivity versus active participation in a madman’s activities seems pertinent.
“GTAV’s” three playable characters include Michael, a retired bank robber, Franklin, an underprivileged African-American with grand criminal ambitions, and Trevor, a psychopath who’s alarmingly charming despite his psychotic tendencies. Although the game has received universal praise, some commentators find the characters to be wholly unlikeable. I thought that may have been hyperbolic initially, but after my too brief stint with the game, Michael’s vitriolic nature really took me aback.
Like Walter White, Michael couches his maniacal tendencies as helping family. His family is far more twisted than the White’s onetime stable household though. Presumably, that’s a reflection of Michael’s shattered psyche more than anything else. I thought I would be able to sympathize with him. He commits horrific acts just like Walter. Criminality can sometimes seem appealing when viewed from our mundane lives. “GTAV” harbors no such sentiments.
Michael is an unabashed dick. Franklin retains some semblance of sympathy because his impoverished position helps maintain some humility. Playing out these destructive sequences doesn’t numb oneself to their persona. It mostly just reinforces that character’s misplaced reasoning for their actions. I’m not one of the few who still side with Walter White. If given control over deciding whether Jane lived or died though, could you still spit torrents of hate at Skyler for holding Walt back?
The issue of passivity versus activity in games is a tired discussion. Clearly, most of these character’s development takes place in cutscenes where the number of character actions isn’t limited to run, shoot, drive. When you have to leave a trail of bodies in your wake after the fact though, it tends to reflect the volatile trio of personalities you’ve assembled.
Meanwhile, millions of people continue to watch Walter White spiral out of control. His final moment in the limelight is looming. The end is nigh. Yet, we continue to wait for one final, messy conclusion from television’s favorite antihero. In a show so carefully mindful of its use of violence, this final season has ditched the acid-laden barrels in favor of leaving a bona fide vulture buffet.
Walter’s persona started as a mild-mannered sympathetic teacher who became a monster. Michael began as a criminal whose family life has devolved into a web of detached connections he can barely hold together. His actions reflect a man unable to simply “retire.” He lives for the heat. It took Walter fifty years to discover how to feel alive.
We live vicariously through Walt’s decision to break bad when none of us have the courage to. We try to do the same as Michael. Leaving polygons on the road and pretending some nonexistent cop may discover our carnage before starting an examination into the sudden uptick in Los Santos’ body count is our criminal reprieve from reality. It’s escapist fantasy at best, an approach that plays directly into Michael’s penchant for violence.
It’s not Rockstar’s job to create likeable characters. No artist has to live by such rigid conventions. However, when you spend 40-plus hours with someone, a rotten personality can wear on you. Walter is introduced at his weakest: a pathetic corpse of potential suddenly reanimated by a death sentence. Michael is living a life of luxury, but his corpse is already decomposing. Walter always had family. So does Michael; the only difference is he’s perpetually stuck in a Hollywood lampoon of a White family sitcom.
We never saw the days when Michael may have been a sympathetic figure. Even if you act selflessly in pursuit of saving your family at every opportunity in “GTA,” it won’t change the fact his dialogue will put an ungrateful, disappointed spin on the situation. We can feel safely detached from Walter in his darkest moments, justifying or lambasting his actions. However little time you may spend with Michael, your connection remains.
Passivity fades into activity. Michael’s horrific personality will become yours to control. Inevitably your actions will mirror Michael’s outlook, it’s "GTA" after all. As draining as "Breaking Bad’s" final episodes have been, at least I can always remain on the periphery. At this point, that’s a blessing.
Have video games led you to a moralistic quandry even Kant or Nietzsche couldn’t solve? Let Adam know at arparis@wisc.edu.
