Who is Ratonhnhaké:ton? He's the son of a British father, raised by his
Mohawk mother and caught in a struggle between his own people and the
colonists spreading through the American Northeast. He's an assassin
who, like those before him, believes in the people's right to be free
and make their own choices. He's also known as Connor, and he stars in
Assassin's Creed III, the most thematically rich game in this ambitious
and freewheeling series
In some respects, Connor is a vessel for ideas more than a force of
nature in his own right, though few heroes could hope to outshine the
charming and worldly star of
Assassin's Creed II,
Ezio Auditore. Noah Watts' unsure voice acting keeps Connor at arm's
length, emotionally--though in some respects, the distance is
appropriate, given Connor's uncertain path through a complex political
landscape. It's the time of the American Revolution, and Connor finds
himself a key figure on and off the battlefield. He fires cannons,
commands troops, and jams his tomahawk into loyalist flesh. He rides
with the delightful Paul Revere and conspires with Samuel Adams, thus
allowing you to participate in some of the time period's most renowned
events: the Boston Tea Party, the Battle of Bunker Hill, and so forth.
Assassin's Creed games are well known for their incredible attention to
historical detail, and Assassin's Creed III is no exception. Major and
minor figures are depicted; the cities of Boston and New York are
exquisitely re-created; and even minutiae like the lines of
The Beggar's Opera are presented with fine accuracy.
Yet Assassin's Creed III is less about history and more about the
broader themes of the franchise. The Assassin vs. Templar conflict
deepens here. You've heard the Templar point of view before, often via
the soliloquies of dying men who pleaded the good intentions of a
philosophy that nonetheless paved an apparent road to hell. Now, the
truth, such as it is, isn't so cut-and-dried. You hear the sincere and
convincing words of the men you've assumed represent the wrong side of
morality, and must wonder: are the ideas of good and bad so absolute
after all? Are the men you cradle in your arms as they gasp their dying
breaths necessary casualties, or do they whisper ideas worth hearing and
understanding? As one character insists, "There is no one path through
life that's right or fair."
Of course, Connor's dilemma is one of the past; in the present day,
series constant Desmond Miles plays his own role, making his legend by
carving his way through the here and now. Connor fights for the rights
of his people; Desmond holds the fate of the world in his hands.
Assassin's Creed III draws important parallels between the two men, both
of whom navigate a thorny relationship with an estranged father.
Surprisingly, given the series' past, Desmond's story tugs at the heart,
not because of his newfound relationship with his aloof father, but
because he learns more of the First Civilization, and their futile
attempts to ward off the disaster that annihilated them.
The Desmond portions are even more fleshed out than before, allowing the
former bartender to at last exercise his own stealth, parkour, and
assassination skills, hinting at the possibility of full-fledged
modern-day adventuring--though never quite arriving there. There does
come an important revelation, however: the typically surprising finale
that leaves you scratching your head, and in this case, forces you to
consider an unpleasant truth about the nature of humanity. The finale
lacks punch and falls short of Assassin's Creed II's jaw-dropping
conclusion. But the inconclusive ending is designed to have you
guessing, and you will ponder the implications over and over, trying to
weave a tapestry of truth out of the conspiracies that have always
buoyed the series' self-serious stories.
It takes time to reach that conclusion, or indeed, to experience the
parkour flights of fancy that represent Assassin's Creed III at its
best. In fact, it takes time for you to even meet its hero, though it's
better to discover just how the game handles that introduction on your
own. Suffice it to say: the opening hours are unexpectedly protracted as
you discover that this is, indeed, a different kind of Assassin's
Creed. It's no less joyous, once the stops are ultimately pulled out,
but the game takes its time, trusting you to be patient with a
slow-paced prologue that is concerned more with establishing tone and
backstory than with allowing you free rein of its bustling cities.
As you play that opening, it's hard not to wonder: when does the fun
stuff come? In retrospect, however, the slow pace makes sense. This is
the biggest game in the series by a notable margin, and once the
beginning is put in context, you'll be glad for the character
development, and glad that you had time to discover some of what makes
Assassin's Creed III different from its predecessors. You'll also be
glad of the narrative twist that reshapes your expectation as you
transition into the larger part of the game, reminding you that the
series has rarely shied from playing with your mind.
A resonant story, compelling exploration, and tense oceanic battles make Assassin's Creed III a rousing success.
Just what are the most notable gameplay differences in Assassin's Creed
III? Well, the parkour has changed, for starters. The control scheme is
simpler, but this change is ultimately sensible considering it
streamlines Connor's singular ability to bound from tree to tree just as
brilliantly as he can scale walls and leap across roofs.
It takes some time to get accustomed to the rhythms of tree-jumping,
which can be finicky and unpredictable. Though you can more or less
speed across Boston and New York as if the buildings were your own
personal jungle gyms, when seeking to fly through the frontier, you must
keep your eyes peeled for the telltale signs of a climbing opportunity.
You use a fallen tree much as a plane uses an airport runway, gaining
momentum and then soaring. There are those moments that slow you down;
you might not be positioned quite right and thus swing impotently rather
than flow smoothly toward the next branch. You might even make an
inadvertent leap of faith into a leaf pile below that you didn't notice
until the game decided you were trying to fall into it. But then there
are those moments in which it all comes together, and you fly with
abandon across the unique architecture of the forest canopy.
While the trees that dot the main cities are sometimes there for
climbing, most of the elms and birches you crisscross are within the
frontier, as well as in the broad patch of land that functions as your
homestead. The homestead is to Connor what Monteriggioni was to Ezio,
but on a much broader scale. Your manor isn't fully your own--it belongs
to Achilles Davenport, a former assassin who one day finds a persistent
Ratonhnhaké:ton knocking at his door. Achilles is one of Assassin's
Creed III's best characters, and it's a pity he doesn't get more screen
time; his tough love balances Connor's naivete, but the bulk of Connor's
training time is left only to your imagination.
The homestead is more than just a place for Connor and Achilles to
banter and argue--it's the central element of Assassin's Creed III's
economy. Like much of Assassin's Creed III, the homestead-focused facets
are purely optional, yet they are worth exploring. The homestead is
about building: building a village, building a future, and building
relationships. By performing related missions, you befriend
craftspeople, gatherers, hunters, and more, all of whom might find a
place on the homestead. In turn, they can craft items that you sell via
caravan for profit. (You discover recipes in treasure boxes throughout
the world, some of which must be opened by performing a lock-picking
minigame.) The homestead missions are varied, having you protect a miner
as he scavenges for ore, search Boston for a drunken doctor, or break
up a fisticuffs. In turn, your income grows, you meet new and
interesting characters, and the homestead becomes, well, a home.
Meanwhile, out on the frontier, you can supplement your storehouse by
trapping or attacking wild animals and then skinning them, leaving their
carcasses behind. There's rarely a pressing reason to go hunting, just
as there has never been a pressing reason to use smoke bombs to
facilitate an easy escape when you can just dispatch your foes with a
sword or an axe. But there's something enjoyably bizarre about perching
on a tree branch and then assassinating a bunny rabbit from above. You
can examine various clues--the signs of a foraging deer, for
instance--to identify the location of a nearby animal. Hunting isn't a
necessary aspect of Assassin's Creed III, though, but more of a toy for
tinkering with, unless you grow deeply invested in the homestead's
economy.
You stumble upon guarded redcoat convoys to attack and loot out on the
frontier, but cities are home to most of the action. Even outside of
story missions, there's plenty to do in Boston and New York. Ben
Franklin's missing almanack pages float in the sky, giving you a reason
to take to the rooftops and prance about. (You're rewarded with excerpts
from the famous
Poor Richard's Almanack, which are full of
clever wordplay.) Liberation missions have you rescuing townsfolk from
British soldiers, burning diseased blankets, and protecting farmers from
rampaging redcoats. In almost every location, frontiersmen tell tall
tales of flying saucers and the sasquatch, and the truths you discover
if you follow these leads make for an interesting thematic twist.
Your exploits have you making direct contact with guards and soldiers,
though combat has been tweaked so that it resembles that of
Batman: Arkham Asylum
more than ever. You counter by pressing the proper button when an
indicator appears over an enemy's head, and you no longer have to manage
a lock-on mechanic. Battles are fluid and bloody, as Connor chops,
slashes, and somersaults about, though as always, you couldn't accuse
combat of being especially difficult. Musketeers take aim, but if
there's a nearby enemy, you can grab him and use him as a human shield,
which protects you and dispatches a guard in a single move. Notably,
Assassin's Creed III abandons health items and embraces regenerating
health, though considering the previous few games' abundance of health
items, there's no appreciable loss--or gain--of challenge.
A resonant story, compelling exploration, and tense oceanic battles make Assassin's Creed III a rousing success.
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Enthralling, thematically rich storytelling
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Tense and atmospheric sea battles
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It's a joy to watch your homestead develop
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Amazing attention to historical and visual details
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Lots of rewarding missions to undertake.
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Too many bugs and glitches
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Hunting mechanics go largely undeveloped
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Parkour and stealth inconsistencies.
There are chances to go stealthy too; Connor crouches automatically in
tall grass, and can even press against corners and peek around. Hiding
in grass is handy a number of times, though peeking around corners is an
inconsistent proposition, since not every object has a "peekable" edge.
In fact, inconsistencies occur within the parkour elements too,
particularly out on the frontier, where you can scale rocky cliffs. Some
cliffsides you can climb, and some you can't, even when it seems you
should be able to grab hold and begin your ascent. And several chase
sequences seem designed to annoy, such as one near the end of the game
in which keeping up with your quarry is only frustrating and never fun.
But the inconsistencies run deeper than these little inconveniences.
Assassin's Creed III is the buggiest game in the series, with glitches
running the gamut from minor messiness to bigger foibles. Animals
running into rocks and then continuing to run in place is silly but
inconsequential. Ditto for minor technical snafus: the occasionally
problematic combat camera angles, distracting animation hitches,
citizens that suddenly pop into view, and so forth. But then there's
that bear that could clip into a cave wall and render a side mission
incompletable, or that scripting error that allows you to open a door by
standing on the roof above, bypassing a battle and thus causing
improper overlapping dialogue when you leave the building. There's an
air of sloppiness here that was kept to a minimum in previous
installments.
Assassin's Creed III's pure breadth offsets these issues to a great
degree, however. The expanses are vast, and the atmosphere is palpable.
In place of the golden aura of previous games is a more muted look, in
keeping with the muddy trails of the wilderness and the rustic homes
that sometimes line them. In New York, you see the remnants of the great
fire of 1776, the ravages of which contrast greatly with the sunny
opulence of Assassin's Creed II's Venice, and the Constantinople of
Assassin's Creed: Revelations.
It's hard not to admire the fantastic animations as Connor scales walls
and trees, his hands authentically grabbing crevasses and his feet
resting on outcroppings.
The presentation shines when Connor goes to sea, as well. Connor is not
just an assassin but a captain too, and a series of (usually) short side
missions have you getting behind the helm and facing the tumult of the
open ocean. The visual details are marvelous, capturing the controlled
chaos of an eager crew hard at work, and impressing upon you the madness
of the roiling waves, which you can never hope to tame. Sailing is
evenly paced but often super tense as you maneuver into just the right
spot to unleash cannons on the ships that endanger you, while avoiding
the cannonballs that whoosh your way. You occasionally finalize sea
battles by ramming enemy ships and boarding them, finishing off the crew
in a bloody melee showdown. You can purchase ship upgrades, some of
which are very expensive and might have you heading back to the
homestead to finagle ways of enhancing your income.
The multiplayer first introduced in
Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood
makes a return, and with it, the rising tension and brutal release of
assassinating other players while simultaneously avoiding the watchful
eyes of your opponents. There are a number of modes in which to exercise
your skill, but in most cases, the goal is to blend into the crowds,
preferably with groups including carbon copies of your own character
model. And as before, you level up and earn skills to perform in battle,
like throwing poison darts, as well as various passive perks. Unlike
before, however, you can spend real money on various upgrades as well as
in-game currency. There are loads of customization options in front of
you, and it's tempting to drop the cash, whether it be to change various
characters' looks or to feel like a greater asset to your team. It's
one of the most extensive attempts to monetize a retail game ever seen,
and comes across as particularly shameless, even in light of similar
schemes in other games, such as
Mass Effect 3.
