I consider pacing to be part of story-telling—knowing when and how much to give your audience, and gradually instilling in them a confidence that this journey, down this rabbit-hole, does lead somewhere. When it's done right, I stop worrying about the unresolved questions and watching the characters. … I watched Mad Men and The Wire because I loved watching the characters. I just liked how Slim Charles talked, and how Betty Draper didn't. I fell for Simon's Baltimore, and Wiener's New York. They made a world that made me say, "I want to go to there," not "What happens next?"
And now, with Andromeda, I see the "game" in the game. There are quest objectives, not goals I want to achieve. There are "tasks," "assignments," and "loyalty missions," and while this sort of divide is not new to games (or even to Mass Effect), I've never been more aware of this subdivide. When I'm playing a game I love, that divide fades away. I'm just out to do cool shit. In Andromeda's story, I almost never did cool shit. I just moved forward.When Mass Effect launched in 2007, it felt like both the next level of video game storytelling and an admonishment of what came before. It drew most obviously on the visual and auditory conventions of sci-fi cinema and television: the driving, Vangelis-inspired synths on Eden Prime; the taut corporate aesthetics of Alien on Noveria and Virmire; the (at the time) revolutionary polish of a simple dedication to shot-reverse shot in so many dialog trees. It also drew on a deep history of sci-fi, horror, and other genre stories across media. Some missions mimic the tight structure the of the TV procedural, while others work like short stories, invoking some idea or question without insisting on a clean, 21-minute resolution.Perhaps that's too high of a standard—but it's my personal standard for narrative. All of the characters were likeable enough, but I wasn't deeply interested in them. What I was left with was a lot of clever creepiness—black bounty hunters with Confederate names, psychics who babble incoherently, a priest who is probably not a priest—draped over the creaky architecture of a story. I felt like I could see Whedon's hand moving events, not characters with all their flaws and credits, moving events. I could see the "TV" in the TV.