Tacoma: A Missed Opportunity

About a week ago I spoke with an acquaintance who had completed Tacoma in his own time. When I asked him what he thought about it, he said simply, “I liked it.” No elaboration, no enthusiasm. After having finished the game myself, I’d give the same response if someone asked me what I thought about it.

I give Tacoma a lot of credit for its unique mechanics. The idea that I can learn about what happened to characters who lived on a now abandoned ship through watching 3D renderings of what occurred is totally innovative. Something I especially loved about this mechanic was that I could rewind the recording, and each time I could follow around a different character to learn more about that individual’s personal life and his or her relationships with other characters (including the AI, ODIN).

This is something I have never seen in a game like this before. I have played games where the main character has some magical power that is never explained where he or she can experience memories from a different character’s perspective. (Obra Dinn is kind of like this actually, but to be fair I only played half the game so maybe his powers are explained at some point.) In Tacoma, Amy has no unexplained super power. She is simply taking advantage of Venturis’ recording system. This is especially meaningful in the context of this game because it conveys how Venturis has attempted to gain not just control, but ownership, over its employees’ lives.

In several respects, however, Tacoma felt like a missed opportunity. These are the two biggest issues I had with the game: 1) The characters, with the exception of ODIN, were not particularly compelling. 2) The game makes an important moral decision for the player at the end of the game when it could have, with just a little more effort, allowed the player to really think about what was at stake and make a decision for his or herself.

I’ll expand a little on these critiques. These characters as individuals were pretty nondescript. We learn each character’s nationality (although these mostly seem contrived as some characters who should have accents don’t, nor do they show different perspectives based on their cultural conditioning); maybe a couple of things about their family members (e.g. the botany guy’s high school age son seems to feel betrayed that his father left him to go on a dangerous space expedition, Clive is very close with his mother); and a little about basic things they are interested in based on items in their rooms (whether that’s guitars or liquor or AI rights, sports, plants, whatever.)

In conversation, characters are mostly indistinguishable from one another. If there was no color coding I’d be at a total loss for who each one is. None of the characters have memorable personality traits or insights beyond their skills and/or knowledge related to their occupation within the ship. I guess one thing we learn— actually we can hardly avoid learning— that 50% of the ship is gay (what are the odds?). In the context of this game, sexual preferences have no significant impact on how the player understands a character in terms of the character’s background or how he or she thinks, perceives, and reacts to situations. (Honestly, I think the only game that has pulled off the gay character thing without reducing that character to their sexual orientation was The Last of Us.)

Side note: Before y’all start calling me a homophobe, let’s get one thing straight— no pun intended— I have been openly lesbian since I was 14. But I’d like people to understand me as a human being with interests, opinions, aspirations, etc, not as an embodiment of my sexual orientation. In general, I think this is something all forms of media have struggled with in trying to include LGBTQ characters. I believe Tacoma has fallen into this trap.

Moving on: This game introduces some very thought-provoking concepts. You learn Amy’s sole reason for being on the ship is to retrieve ODIN’s hardware for Venturis to destroy. Venturis will destroy ODIN because his love for the crew was so great he was capable of overriding Venturis’ instructions that told him he could not divulge any information regarding Venturis’ sabotage of its own ship and crew. So Amy has the hardware, she leaves the ship, and now what decision will I, as the player who has been thrust into this moral dilemma, tell Amy to make?

I was actually kind of dreading making this decision as I walked through the airlock doors because there were so many factors to consider. Venturis reminds Amy that there will be consequences if she fails to return the hardware. Venturis, as the game has shown the player, is a powerful corporation— those consequences could be severe. Furthermore, although ODIN made a noble decision in helping the crew; and therefore, would be considered “better” than other AI in a moral sense, he was capable of doing this because he had to power to choose not to obey. Having any AI exist that can override orders is extremely dangerous. There is no guarantee other AI will be so benevolent if granted this power.

On the other hand, it seems immoral for Amy to support the nefarious aims of Venturis. On top of that, who knows whether Venturis will choose to simply destroy ODIN or choose to punish him. He appears to have a conscience and feelings, which likely leaves him vulnerable to forms of psychological torture. Furthermore, if humanity is to understand what is special about ODIN’s structure, why he was capable of overriding the instructions, it would be crucial to take him to an expert that actually cares about AI and humanity in general (i.e. NOT Venturis).

So here I am considering all these possibilities, getting ready to make a decision, and bam! the game makes the decision for me and is over within ten seconds. What a missed opportunity! One of the ways in which video games are different from other narrative driven forms of media, is that the player has agency. Why wouldn’t Tacoma take advantage of that fundamental feature of games? Or if the game was to prescribe an ending, it should have developed Amy as a character. Up until the ending the player has no idea that she even has a moral perspective. The ending of Tacoma is, in my opinion, the weakest aspect of the entire game. I think I would have found it a far more compelling experience, despite all the other problems with it, had the game allowed me to really grapple with the themes it presents.

I liked Tacoma as an experience overall— it wasn’t bad— but it could have been so much better.