Most game reviews rate games by how much fun they are. How good does this game make me feel? Finishing Heavy Rain, however, depressed me. I felt remorse, guilt, and sadness. And yet I can confidently say this game is going down on my list of definitive game experiences.

In 2005 Quantic Dream released their second game, Indigo Phrophecy (Fahrenheit in Europe). The game presented a paranormal murder mystery as an adventure game played from several perspectives: Lucas Kane, the apparent murderer, and the two officers attempting to track Kane down. The game was criticized for its sudden shift into ultra paranormal themes near the end. However, it received praise for its cinematic presentation and surprisingly profound yet subtle scenarios. For example, in one scene, Kane’s ex-girlfriend visits his apartment to pick up her things. How the player chooses to handle Kane’s actions and his dialog would affect how the scene turned out. Indigo Prophecy’s director, David Cage, mentioned that players sent him more positive feedback for that one small scene than the more action-packed Matrix-like scenes later in the game. Taking what they’ve learned from this game, Cage and Quantic Dream have now released Heavy Rain for the PS3.

Heavy Rain begins with main protagonist Ethan Mars. Tragedy shatters his idyllic life and leaves him to manage depression, a divorce, and an apathetic son. Just as Ethan seems to be improving his relationship with his son, the child is kidnapped by the Origami Killer. Following in Indigo Phrophecy’s footsteps, Heavy Rain plays out this story from multiple perspectives. The supporting cast includes Norman Jaden, a drug addict and FBI agent assigned to investigate the Origami Killer; Scott Shelby, a private eye investigating the murders; and Madison Paige, a female insomniac forced to sleep in motels. This multi-perspective storytelling keeps the narrative moving at a good pace over the game’s six to eight hour length.

Despite the spotty voice performances, Heavy Rain does a good job illustrating its characters enough that I cared about them. To watch them bite and claw their way through life-threatening scenarios has been one of the most exciting experiences I’ve ever had with a video game. In this day and age of generous checkpoints, death just isn’t very exciting. The key is that there are simply no consequences to player actions in traditional games. People play games to escape from real consequences. Yet, to ensure fun, we sacrifice genuine emotions like fear and guilt. Protagonist resurrection is but a “Continue” or game restart away. Failure is not an option in traditional games.

Heavy Rain eliminates this game design handicap by embracing failure. After every action the game saves and the narrative moves forward. The game accounts many branching scenarios created by every possible choice, success, and failure a player can make in the game. True, the game’s individual chapters can be replayed to rectify mistakes. However, out of sheer respect for the ever advancing story, I ended up accepting my failures as they became imprinted into my personal narrative. But I’m the kind of player who goes out of my way to immerse myself in games. Players who can’t accept the notion of “losing” may not experience the full emotional ride Heavy Rain offers.

In one scene the FBI agent Jaden arrives in his car at a junk yard to follow a lead about the serial killer. The owner of the junk yard, Mad Jack, has allegedly sold a stolen car to the killer. The game shows a left arrow on screen near the car door. When I press the left analog stick in that direction, Jaden gets out of the car. I move Jaden around the junk yard by holding R2 to accelerate him forward and tilting the Right analog stick to steer his direction. As he passes items or people of interest, the context sensitive inputs to initiate actions show up on screen. This walking mechanic seemed unnecessarily complicated. I found myself accidentally guiding the protagonists in the wrong directions on multiple occasions — particularly when they walk into different areas and the camera changes suddenly.

Later, when Jaden gets into a fight with Mad Jack, the action sequence is handled in a Quick Time Event, a la certain segments in God of War. The general consensus these days is that QTEs don’t work in games, and the main gripe about them is that they exist outside the core mechanics of a game. Games train you to play these core mechanics, but then QTEs force players to use unfamiliar button pressing skills to accomplish tasks. However, as I played Heavy Rain I became comfortable with its QTEs. The game starts slowly with mundane activities such as shaking the Sixaxis to brush a character’s teeth, or moving the right analog stick left and downward to open a fridge. These banal activities may be easy to make fun of, but they serve as inconsequential tutorials to acclimate the player to the game’s controls. In effect, these context-sensitive actions and QTEs become Heavy Rain’s core mechanic.

Back in the junk yard, Jaden finds himself handcuffed in a car hanging over a car crusher. As the franticly blurred actions show up on screen, I manipulate the analog stick and hold the appropriate buttons down to get Jaden’s gun out of the glove compartment and shoot the handcuffs apart. Suddenly the car is dropped into the crusher. F*ck. Gotta get out the door. An up arrow shows up near the car’s door. Crap. I fumble the controller, press L2, X, and Up on the left stick, then watch as Jaden is crushed.

My roommate was shocked to see that the game then moved on to a scene with Madison: he expected the game to restart and let me try again. “Wait it didn’t restart? He’s dead?” By introducing consequence, the game successfully elicits emotions typically stifled by the inconsequential nature of games. I was genuinely afraid Jaden would die and so I panicked. I couldn’t believe he’d died either. And for what? Now who will investigate the Origami killer? Jaden was gone because of me.

In a later scene, I was again charged with guiding a character through another dangerous scenario. I found myself leaning forward and grunting trough my teeth, “Get up, Madison!” I pounded the buttons on my controller in spite of my already tired forearm. You’re not going to die, I thought, I’m not going to let you die too. When Madison made it out alive, my arms were in the air. I flopped back into my couch and caught my breath.

After watching the ending I had wrought with my actions, I felt terrible. People died because of my choices. The Origami Killer had evaded justice. Can the game be praised for making me feel bad? Isn’t entertainment supposed to make you feel good? But then why do tragedies in theater and film exist? The Ancient Greeks had a concept called Catharsis. By watching dramatic theater, audience members would theoretically experience strong emotional release. And by experiencing these emotions in an inconsequential manner, people could then theoretically deal with strong emotions better in real life.

Whether or not the Greeks were right, Heavy Rain is moving the video game medium forward by at least attempting to shed the preconception of constant gratification. That innovation in interactive narrative is exactly why I play video games.

A

Exceeded Expectations
+ Engrossing narrative with surprising twists.
+ Branching storyline allows player to form a personal narrative through both success and failure.
+ Elicited genuine fear and guilt in me better than any other game I’ve ever played.
Needs Improvement
- Some characters have bad voice acting.
- Guiding characters while walking can be tricky.
- It can depress you and that’s bad if you’re not into tragedies.