The Ending Must Not Be Abstract

Fiction is about characters. There are many styles of writing, and many ways to tell a story, but in order for the audience to connect on an emotional level, the story must be about characters. Not in the abstract sense, either: if the audience is to feel something about the story, they must be able to relate to the story, and that means there must be people that the audience likes.

Without likable, relatable characters that the audience can invest in, the story becomes little more than a thought experiment. This, I think, is the largest part of why Mass Effect 3's ending was so unsatisfying: it disconnected from the characters that held us in the story so much that it became abstract and lost its connection to the people who clearly cared so much. The choice provided at the end of the game makes for an interesting thought experiment in which the player is asked to think of what the implications of their choice might be, but at the end of the day, it was the characters that held the player's interest. They were likable and many players would go so far as to claim they even fell in love with them, and to have their fate glossed over in a broad few seconds of footage showing that they essentially had "not died in a crash landing" does little to resolve the concerns of the fans who had grown so attached.

This is an important lesson for writing in general, but I believe video game designers in particular should take note. The investment people give in a story in which they make key decisions and literally become involved in the outcomes such as this means that people will make attachments that become difficult to disentangle. Even in a tragedy, it is relieving to know that the characters you sought to aid would have not died in vain. To rush past all this and pretend that it was just about "saving the world" or "fighting the enemy" misses the point of having a story altogether. While some games, such as games heavily focused on multiplayer deathmatches like Team Fortress, can get away with minimal focus on plot, it is notable that to create a game that is heavily focused on storytelling such as BioWare tends to make, you cannot simply pretend the players will not care about the characters.

A great example to look at is Halo: Reach. While the game is heavily focused on action, it does have a well thought-out story in the single-player campaign. In particular [spoiler alert, for those of you who care and have had your heads stuck in the sand], it is relevant in that the story IS a tragedy that does end with the protagonists, including the player's character, dying in battle. While I had actually bought the game to play with a friend, I found myself deeply involved in the story and the characters. They had likable personalities, unique quirks, and, above all, they were watching MY back. Not just each others', but MINE. That is a key thing that you don't get in any other medium: not only do these people become likable personalities, but they can become people you TRUST, in spite of being fictional.

The ending, in contrast to Mass Effect 3, is sad, but not disappointing. That is a key thing that is so often missed by critics of the fans' complaints: it is NOT about wanting a happy ending; it is about wanting an ending that feels like an ending. Noble Team, in Halo: Reach, dies off throughout the course of the story while fighting to get critical strategic resources safely off-world, as well as helping to get the people evacuated. Yes, they die, but they die fighting for a chance. Even if they hadn't succeeded in securing the cargo they needed onto a transport, it would have meant something that they died fighting.

By comparison, it is also possible to have a happy ending that is totally meaningless. Deus Ex Machina, a narrative device in which something or someone shows up to save the day without the need of the heroes' help, is not always a poor plot development when used sparingly, but it is an easy one to misuse. If victory is achieved and the heroes did not struggle, had no triumph of their own, then the ending will feel hollow because it is disconnected from the characters themselves. This often comes directly into gameplay when it comes to video games: there is a fine line to walk between cinematic immersion and technical gameplay. On the one hand, gameplay can seem rather dull from a storytelling perspective. Fighting a boss is often more instinct than drama. On the other hand, it can feel incredibly disappointing if you had a boss you wanted to fight and instead it was relegated to a simple cutscene in which your character performs a spectacular move.

To put it all together: a satisfying ending in fiction must include the characters heavily. While it is interesting to explore complicated ideas in science fiction, it is always abstract if not viewed through the eyes of characters we have come to identify with. The ending must include triumph of some kind, even if that "triumph" is emotional instead of literal, such as dying in battle failing your mission; the "triumph," in this example, being that the character did not succumb to despair even when all hope for success was crushed. It is the "triumph" that brings catharsis to the audience, and without that catharsis we find ourselves left hanging as though the final episode of our favorite tv show never saw the light of day. You'll never know what happened to the characters you were so worried about, and now you don't only have to mourn the show but to do so knowing that you will be left on a cliffhanger forever.