Baldur’s Gate 3
| Developer: Larian Studios | Graphics: |
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| Publisher: Larian Studios | Sound: |
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| Year: 2023 | Difficulty: |
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| Genre: “Point & miss” RPG | Lastability: |
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| Number of players: 1 to 4 alternating | Rating: |
6/10 | |
Have you ever heard of the hype? That reckless excitement leading up to a game’s release. We’ve all been caught up in it, maybe even enough to pre-order—and live to regret it bitterly just a few weeks later, vowing to be more cautious next time. The first time I fell victim to this illness was when APB: All Points Bulletin was announced. That game had real potential, but it flopped. Other times, it’s just plain scams (we’ve lost count of the fraudulent Kickstarter campaigns). You could throw in recent titles like Bli***’s Dia*** 4, though that sort of product doesn’t deserve any publicity—not even the negative kind…
I would sum up the Baldur’s Gate 3 phenomenon with a simple iteration of the saying: “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” And the fact that it was developed by an indie studio probably contributed to this inflating of expectations. Personally, I judge a game for what it is, comparing it to what exists, within certain standards. And no, cold soup such as Starfield does not fit into my standard!
Disclaimer: I’m reviewing the game at launch, without mods. I’m comparing it to Divinity: Original Sin 2, which I played years later, in its “definitive” edition, and to Dragon Age: Origins, which I wouldn’t even touch without attaching at least ten mods. It’s a bit unfair, but I’m not pretending to be objective. I consider myself deeply disappointed, deceived, and I’m giving my opinion, biased, like everyone else… Bitter? Certainly too!
The original sin:
Larian Studios made the bold double decision to acquire the Dungeons & Dragons license, the popular “tabletop” role-playing game, with its complex and well-established rules, and then adapt it as faithfully as possible to the “video game” medium. On the one hand, this decision increased curiosity and excitement about the game. On the other hand, it’s the cause of most of the clumsiness I blame it for…
Baldur’s Gate 3 is therefore mainly aimed at fans of D&D, who will enjoy reconnecting with well-known mechanics (spells to memorise with a limited number of uses, the need to rest regularly to recharge them, and that damn constant dice rolling, to resolve absolutely every situation, both in combat and dialogue). I find these constraints unnecessarily rigid. The blatant dice rolls, in particular, completely break my immersion in a solo video game. It feels like I’m playing Monopoly, all alone against the computer. I mostly feel it as a clear regression after Divinity: Original Sin 2, which I praised for its streamlined interface, simple and intuitive combat rules, and above all, the creative way the developers reduced the luck factor, which, let’s remember, was the main criticism aimed at Divinity: Original Sin, the first game.
The story:
You wake up aboard a big ship, a prisoner. An accident occurs, leaving you just enough time to rescue other unfortunates (optional task), before the ship, burning and littered with debris and giant tentacles, sinks. A mysterious disembodied guardian saves you from certain death, and you regain consciousness on a beach. Soon, companions join you. A sense of urgency overwhelms you. A monster inhabits your head, threatening to subjugate you at any moment, endangering your life and that of others.
You set off to meet various healers, each with growing renown, who one by one admit they’re incompetent to heal you. Later, you team up with a group of mystical refugees (expendable idiots). Time passes, and you realise the danger might not be as imminent as you thought. During repeated visions, in an ethereal, timeless world, you speak to your “guardian”, who advises you, instead of seeking a cure, to “embrace” your affliction, with the idea of increasing your new powers … to defeat a megalomaniac tyrant, save the world … and then conquer it, if you feel like it.
Damn, I got the wrong page. You’ve of course recognized the plot of Divinity: Original Sin 2 (and Lohse’s personal quest). In Baldur’s Gate 3, the big ship… flies! Really creative, right? And respectful of the players’ intelligence! Who dared say that Larian Studios doesn’t rest on their laurels?
The characters:
I’m going to take the gloves off, if you don’t mind. You see the third image at the top of the page? I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a personal involvement in a line of dialogue. The characters are recycled archetypes from other games, made up half of unlikable narcissists and the other half of bland, dimwitted fools. But I’ll give them credit for making some combinations: Gale is a dimwitted narcissist…
For example, they took Sebile (the elf from Divinity: Original Sin 2), detached her individualistic and suspicious personality, and gave it to Gamora Lae’zel. As for her backstory (fugitive slave, marked with a scar, seeking revenge on her former master), they slapped that onto Astarion.
I remember the pleasure I had chatting with Leliana, Oghren, or Shale in Dragon Age: Origins; the subtle way in which the psychological cracks of Stein, Winn, or Zevran were introduced… Compare the rivalry between Allistair and Morrigan with that between Lae’zel and Shadow Heart!
No, Baldur’s Gate 3 is definitely not the new benchmark. Dragon Age remains comfortably on its throne. Maybe it also lacks an interesting antagonist. Dragon Age had Loghain, a role model in my eyes. Despicable, but with a backstory, personality, and motivations that were nuanced and went beyond the desire to dominate the world, which the player could understand.
Another notable difference from Bioware’s gem is that the romances with companions trigger out of nowhere, abruptly, followed by sex scenes that I would call gratuitous, simultaneously prudish and vulgar. It’s very weird. I feel like I’m following a fan-fiction written by pre-teens. I feel embarrassed for the developers, and especially for the YouTubers who oversold this game to me, praising the high-quality writing.
The player and their choices:
I’ve still read a lot of praise about the advanced customization during character creation. Let’s be charitable and call that a misunderstanding.
In statistical terms, maybe (multiclasses, choice of races with specific traits, in line with the D&D universe).
In a narrative context, as far as physical traits go, you get seven faces, non-customizable, and that’s it. You can’t even change the shape of the eyes, which is the most obvious way to communicate a character’s personality. For example, I can’t make a male character with a shifty look. No matter what I do, he looks like a teddy bear. Again, Dragon Age offered far more options … not to mention the personalized prologue, which I hold a fervent nostalgia for.
The only innovation worth noting is the ability to create a transgender character.
I’ve noticed the dissociation between the “physical model” and gender identification (male, female, or “non-binary”) to conform to today’s political correctness. These kinds of decisions inevitably spark lively debates in “well-informed” circles, especially across the Atlantic. I don’t want to take part in that, but I do wonder if this ideological tint in our games (in our series, in our films…) will age well. How will viewers perceive these works in twenty years? Remind me to edit this page in 2043…
I struggled to keep playing due to a lack of attachment to the characters, especially my own. I started with a gnome rogue, and I accidentally started a war in the goblin camp. One of them must have looked at me funny, or maybe I clicked on a barrel while my crossbow was out… Anyway, I killed everyone, and when I returned to my camp, a village of simpletons was waiting to feast in my honor. Hold on, there’s a misunderstanding. I don’t defend widows and orphans!
Of course, I started over from the beginning, making sure to ally with the goblins. I made the most immoral choices allowed … but once again, I was disappointed. I became a B-movie villain, a Diet Coke of evil, the kind who never uses bad words.
By the way, it’s funny, the surprising selectivity in the crimes authorized in role-playing games. You have the right to steal or kill everyone, and that’s about it. But cleanly, mind you! And not the children … with the notable exception of goblin children. It creates a sanitized atmosphere, which personally bores me. The heroic fantasy literature is much less squeamish about depicting an “evil” character (Ramsey Bolton, for example).
Furthermore, critics have raved about the fact that the player can approach a quest in different ways, and that their decisions impact the story. Like in a role-playing game, right? You know what would be even more innovative? If those choices weren’t dictated by dice rolls. I felt perfectly guided, on the contrary.
The Staging:
This is the great strength of Baldur’s Gate 3 compared to its predecessors: it provides particularly well-crafted and numerous “cutscenes”. Some of them made me smile (the one with the squirrel, the ogress in the barn…). However, the majority of them just show characters standing around, sometimes waving their arms while talking. Clearly, they spent a lot of time on lip-syncing (and choreography for the sex scenes), but that can’t substitute for a credible and engaging story. And honestly, who cares if the camera does some tracking shots!
Overall, the world felt artificial and incoherent. There’s no real stakes. We’re told it’s urgent to heal ourselves, but then it’s not. Anyway, death has no consequences, since right from the start, we meet a guy who promises to resurrect anyone for a modest fee. I got bored pretty quickly because I didn’t understand the plot, wandering from one place to another, never feeling involved. Plus, I feel like every character I meet behaves and talks like a child. That’s a sign that the dialogue isn’t well-written. Just chatty.
An example of poorly done staging: when visiting the dwarf fortress, there’s an elevator clearly visible. If you enter, a cryptic window warns you that “the adventure will continue”, without further explanation. Yes, fine. You go up, there’s a room, you go back down, and the entire fortress is deserted; all the dwarves are gone, and some of the quests are now inaccessible.
I’ve read that Act 3 is “less good” than the first two, and riddled with bugs. I have no doubt they’ll be fixed in future updates (it’s so antiquated to finish games before releasing them). As for me, I gave up halfway through Act 2, despite the strong push to keep going, considering I spent 60 bucks and even replaced my PC just for this game.
I remember the first trailer, which suggested a Lovecraftian (dark) game. Sadly, I’ll hold onto the image of a generic and sanitized universe.
Exploration:
The environment seems more “vertical” than in Divinity: Original Sin 2, but the game engine is still the same, so the camera sometimes struggles to follow, especially inside multi-floor buildings.
Picking up objects by the hundreds is more tedious than ever, just like clicking through the countless types of provisions, one by one, to magically send them into the camp’s chest. Why bother with separate inventories that have weight limits, if you can teleport items with just two clicks? It drives me crazy to waste time sorting through my stuff or rummaging through vases and other empty containers, like the compulsive hoarder that I am!
In Divinity: Original Sin 2, there was a skill called “Lucky Charm”, which made looting containers a little less tedious, because you always had a chance of finding something valuable inside anything.
Where Baldur’s Gate 3 innovates is by adding a second layer of burden, forcing the player to regularly return to camp to recharge spells or change the party composition, further interrupting an already slow pace. I’ve enjoyed, dozens and dozens of times, the two forced lines of dialogue every time I wanted to swap a character to grab an item from their inventory. Model of ergonomics, guys!
Finally, the “theme park” syndrome, described on the page for Divinity: Original Sin 2, remains present, along with targeting issues. For example, some barrels are looted by clicking on them, others are destroyed … just click on the second type, and my character shoots an arrow into it, causing all the locals to jump on me.
The Combat:
The messy interface, icons everywhere, and the multitude of action and spell types require some adjustment time. Don’t worry, I’ll help you out. There’s the ranged attack that misses, the melee attack that misses, and all the magic abilities that miss while emitting light in whatever colour you choose. No, I’m exaggerating. You don’t just miss. Occasionally, you miss critically!
In combat, when my attacks miss too often, and I can only attack once per turn, I feel like quitting. That’s something I tolerated in old games, but it has no place today. The good news is that this at least convinced me to finish Divinity: Original Sin 2, which I had put aside for months.
Various Points:
Compared to the previous two titles, the interface seemed so awful that I never felt “at home”. I understand that the decision to adapt the D&D license as faithfully as possible requires multiple rows of icons. I get that it’s impossible to organise such a large number of actions, governed by tangled rules, in a neat way. It’s immediately apparent that the license is a ball and chain that they have attached to their foot, and much of these deteriorations are due to it. When I was first introduced to the animation of the pair of dice, I knew right away it would make me sick.
Worth noting, I encountered a recurring bug where the interface wouldn’t reset after a dialogue (making it impossible to select a character or click on an action), leaving me no choice but to reload a save.
But wait, I found something positive to say! You can now pause the game outside of combat. It only took three games! Still, I miss the teleportation pyramids…
Conclusion:
According to Ben Croshaw (Zeropunctuation), the enjoyment of playing depends on three factors starting with a “C”: Context, Challenge, and Catharsis. Personally, I’d add Convenience (ergonomics, inventory management, chance of failure, all that…).
He specifies that you don’t necessarily need to meet all three criteria at once, but the strong factor must compensate for the possible lack of the others. He also acknowledges that a game like Baldur’s Gate 3 will rely more on Context (the story). I didn’t buy into it. It was doomed for me.
Then there’s Catharsis, which refers to the content of the game, but also implies an emotional release. So yes, I have the power to interact with every cupboard, box, jar … I can attack anyone. Great. I feel “busy”, but not stimulated. I went looking for my catharsis in Warzone 2100. Every time I get distracted by another game in the middle of a session, it’s a clear sign that something isn’t working.
We often criticize the creative apathy of video game (and film) industries. I think the avid consumer is just as responsible. In the era of live services, on-demand video platforms, and social networks, the player seems satisfied with things to do, a shopping list. If that’s your case, if you take this title as a puzzle, with situations to solve, small quests, regions to explore, piece by piece, cutscenes, sex, dialogues in abundance; you might come out satisfied, because technically, it’s successful.
But shouldn’t we place less importance on technical considerations?
PS: Can we stop with the swords stuck on our backs, please?
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