This generation has been a banner one for shooters. Not that shooters have ever been unpopular in the past decade or so; Halo showed us that gamers will buy the ever-loving hell out of console FPS games if done correctly. Ever since 2007's Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, though, developers and publishers have been falling all over themselves trying to replicate Infinity Ward's kajillion-selling formula. If the 16-bit generation can be generalized as "the one with all of the mascot-themed platforming games," this one could readily, if over-simplistically, be summed up as "the one will all the military shooting games."
In light of so many FPS games being released even this month--EA's Medal of Honor: Warfighter is supposed to drop later in October--I thought it appropriate to talk about my favorite shooter from this generation, and one of my favorite games period: Battlefield: Bad Company.
Most modern shooters follow a very specific model, the one set my Call of Duty, in fact: follow one or more NPCs through a linear environment, encountering scripted sequences and waves of bad guys to shoot; reach a target zone where Something Happens, usually setting a bomb or defending a drop zone; follow the NPCs to another portion of the map and repeat; occasionally get into a moving vehicle for an on-rails turret sequence. The spectacle is the selling point in games like this, either kicking ass (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3) or boring completely (Battlefield 3) depending on execution, but the formula largely stays consistent from game to game. Think about the modern template for superhero movies started by Spider-Man and perfected by Iron Man; whether it's The Avengers or Green Lantern, chances are that, unless you're Chris Nolan and are making moody auteur films instead, superhero movies made after 2008 will follow a recognizable pattern in terms of tone and narrative content. So it is with post-Infinity Ward FPS games.
Battlefield: Bad Company was made before Jason West and Vince Zampella kicked console shooters in the teeth, releasing a good six or seven months after Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, and breaks from this formula in several distinct ways. Not that Bad Company is enjoyable only from an iconoclastic position; it's a fun game that I've grown to appreciate more as the method in which shooters are "supposed" to be made solidifies.
The most decisive way Battlefield: Bad Company breaks from other military shooters is its level design. Rather than leading players through a series of watersides, Bad Company put players in a swimming pool, and though it wasn't totally open--some parts of the map expanded as objectives were completed--it gave much more leeway to players on how they wanted to complete levels. Areas in Bad Company were huge, and usually presented several options for approaching critical points on the map. Granted, they were small do-you-take-this-road-or-that-road decisions, but they gave an illusion of choice that complemented Bad Company's wide open spaces and vehicles.
Ah, vehicles. Another feature distinct from Call of Duty and, ironically, later Battlefield games. Vehicles amp up Bad Company's feeling of freedom and increase its destructive potential. Hop in a jeep to quickly zip to the objective, or scour around for a tank and faceroll through the opposition. Vehicles add variety to the typical shooting experience, and Bad Company's sandbox levels make commandeering an armored truck an essential part of play, in addition to being a grand old time.
Perhaps the biggest, in my eyes most important way Bad Company breaks from other shooters is its respawn system. Rather than reloading the game from the last autosave, Bad Company revives players almost where they stand, retaining any destruction or downed enemies from before the player died similar to BioShock's Vita-Chambers. Bad Company never writes over player progress by resetting building destruction or enemy placement, turning it into the most casual lark ever given an M-16 and pressed on to a disc. Far from the tense, high-stress situations in Call of Duty and its brethren, Bad Company invites players to have a good time messing around.
Bad Company's respawn system also accentuates its light, casual tone. With the exception of Bulletstorm (and sometimes even then), shooters are often grim affairs, saddled with the burdens of war and destruction and the lives displaced by violence--a fine goal that is somewhat undermined by the hundreds and hundreds of ammunition rounds spent during even one mission. Bad Company feels tonally similar to goofy action films from the '80s, where even the highest stakes were offset by a light, amiable tone. Here's a quick plot squad to demonstrate: during an unspecified conflict with the Russians, your squad, comprised of Steve Buscimi, Jeff Foxworthy, and Agent Dillon from Predator, accidentally invades a neutral country in search of mercenary gold. Not glory, not honor, not a hankerin' for shooting Russians; gold bullion. Colorful characters, irreverent dialog, and the general sense that no one is ever quite in danger ("Aw, crap!" someone exclaims as a tank rolls into view not five feet away) all impart the feeling of a late afternoon action film on AMC, the sort you shrug and settle in to watch even though you've seen it twice already.
Bad Company had a few other quirks that helped it stand out from other shooters at the time. Bad Company's approach to health regeneration was unorthodox: players' health didn't recharge automatically, but they did have access to a healing syringe that instantly refilled their precious health bar. An unusual method, but one that altered the pacing from the Call of Duty template; rather than hunkering down behind a chest-high wall until my health came back, I would frantically charge enemies guns blazing, knowing that I could instantly recharge if I needed. Not very strategic. Super damn fun. I also appreciated Bad Company's "collectable" weapons, caches of rare guns stashed off the beaten path waiting to reward curious players--finding ways to tangibly reward players for exploration is always tricky, and new ways to shoot things up real good is always a great option.
I just realized I have talked exclusively about the single-player game, something precious little people actually purchase a Battlefield game for. Bad Company introduced me to one of my very favorite multiplayer modes: Gold Rush, simply called Rush in subsequent games because gold is too good a reason to shoot at people. Gold Rush puts players on two teams, one whose goal is to destroy every set of crates on the map, and another tasked with defending against the attacking forces. Teams change roles between matches, giving both sides an opportunity to plant charges and/or repelling invaders with heavy artillery. I am tremendously unskilled at Team Deathmatch, and Gold Rush's objective-based gameplay appeals more to my play style; terrible though I am at headshots, I can defend the hell out of a stationary crate. Gold Rush has since become as standard a mode as Capture The Flag and Battlefield's own Conquest, a development that makes me happy and slightly less prone at losing.
Admittedly, part of my enjoyment of Battlefield: Bad Company comes from a point of place: I first played it during the most relaxing break in school I've ever had, a cozy week during October when I had the time to lazily saunter through the campaign, occasionally pick up a pizza for lunch, and watch movies with my then-girlfriend unencumbered by homework or lengthy respawn times. Still, it was fun then and it's fun now, and I hope EA and DICE can look at Bad Company again as they take the Battlefield series forward.
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