Finished this yesterday, and still cannot get it out of my head, so forgive me if I wax lyrical for a bit.
First: what an incredible series. Each installment had its very obvious flaws, but as a whole, it stands as one of the most satisfying gaming experiences I’ve had and one of the very few examples IMO of what it means to take the medium seriously to produce quality storytelling.
For all the hoopla about the infamous ME3 ending, I found myself barely bothered by it. Indeed, the Starchild’s inclusion and explanations seemed cheap. His stated reasons, capricious and illogical – or maybe suitably alien? The actual epilogue, more than a bit confusing and frustrating. I actually had trouble placing all of the characters’s fates, who had died or why or where. But…
…by then it mattered little. By that point the game had released its full emotional payload, and settled on a clear ending several scenes before the actual, controversial one. The only thing I was sure of is that it wasn’t going to be pretty. I was already in a funny mood because of the crescendo of unremitting bleakness that had plagued the latest missions, which I think was handled expertly; but what really got me was Shepard’s team’s final, suicide run. It’s a hellish sequence crowned by a marvelous synergy of visuals, sound and fury as one by one the team members are exterminated in their desperate push against impossible odds.
Next thing I know a wounded Shepard is lifting himself from the ground -looking complete and utterly defeated for the first time, his usually impeccable uniform in rags- and starts limping towards the Beam amongst the corpses of his friends, still stubbornly trying to reach its immediate goal but with basically nil chances of making past it, with barely strength left to hold a gun, let alone affecting the ultimate fate of the galaxy. I found the segment extremely successful in conveying the full horror of this realization, to the point that I kept pushing forward in dread, step by excruciatingly slow step, rebelling against the hopelessness of it all, and wishing it would end soon.
And all the time I’m thinking “this is it, they’re really gonna end this on such a grim note”. And I discover I’m amazed, thrilled, emotional. This is it.
When Shepard actually gets to the Citadel, it’s been transformed into some kind of red maw filled with the corpses of all the species in the galaxy. Will there be no letup? What follows isn’t as thrilling, although there are a few punches still in store.
Enough has been said, I guess, about the last few minutes. But as I said I was mostly OK with it. In a way, plot holes and inconsistencies aside, the obscurity made sense to me. The denouement pretty much ignores the decisions made along the game to present a dying Shepard with three preset ending options. The reason it didn’t bother me that much is that by that time I had accepted that all bets were off and indeed there was no point in anything we had done before – no point in all the war assets that seemed so vital at the time, all the sacrifices, all the struggle, all our carefully nurtured relationships. There had never been any hope. That was it. The nihilistic writing had been on the wall all the time, no matter how much I had wanted to believe Shepard’s and Hacket’s reassurances that we had a chance of winning the war or turning the tide. That’s what was so hard to swallow – both for the characters and for me as the experiencer. There wasn’t going to be a “happy” ending for the characters, but especially for me as a gamer. This was it. The joke was as much on me as on them. I wouldn’t even get my beloved closure.
Right before the end there is an amazing scene that I think has been brought up some posts earlier in this thread. Shepard lies on the floor half dead, for all we know, and Hackett comes up on the intercom. The Crucible is not firing, it’s not doing anything actually. Must be something on your side. Shepard lifts his head and after a pause asks dutifully, with a cracked, thin voice, “What do you need me to do?”. The galaxy is about to be turned to dust, but damned if he’s not going to invest his last blood cell into preventing it, like a true hero of legend should. It’s a touching, gut-wrenching scene, and I find myself thinking that this resonance is one of the reasons why I love video games. And the Mass Effect games, warts and all, rank IMO among the best ever made.