One of the most memorable moments in the entire Assassin’s Creed series takes place near the beginning of Assassin’s Creed 3, when Haythom Kenway finishes his band round-up in the New World. Or at least, players are led to believe they are assassins. After all, Haytham uses a hidden blade and is as charismatic as Ezio Auditor, the protagonist of the previous series, and up until this point in the campaign he played the role of a hero, defeating Native Americans from prison and defeating the cheeky British redcoat. Only when he speaks a familiar phrase “as the Father of Understanding leads us” can it be revealed that we are actually following the fond enemy, the Templars?
For me, this incredible setup represents the fullest possible realization of the assassin’s beliefs. The first game in the series introduced an intriguing concept – find, get to know, kill targets, but lacking in the story department. Assassin’s Creed 2 was taking a step in the right direction by replacing Altaïr with the more iconic Ezio, but was unable to apply the same treatment to his enemies. Set during the American Revolution only in Assassin’s Creed 3, Ubisoft’s developers spent as much time as Hunter. I lent the game an organic flow from setup to payoff, resulting in a delicate balance between gameplay and storytelling.
The current RPG era of the series has been mostly well received by players and critics, but the wealth of articles, YouTube videos and forum posts have been the case for some time, as Assassin’s beliefs have faded. However, the exact responsibility for this downfall is subject to debate. Some point to the increasingly unrealistic premise of modern games that stand up against gods like Anubis and Fenrir. Others have replaced previous fictional protagonists with real-world historical figures in the implementation of Ubisoft of various romance options and the shadow of the Assassin’s Creed, replacing previous fictional protagonists with real-world historical figures, bringing the issue of an African samurai called Yasuke. Despite my personal nostalgia for the Xbox 360/PS3 era games, I argue that it’s not one of these. Instead, such decline was the result of the series’ gradually abandoned character-driven storytelling, now buried deep within the vast sandbox.
Over the years, Assassin’s Creed has padded the original action-adventure formula with numerous RPG and live service elements, from dialogue trees and XP-based leveling systems to loot boxes, microtransaction DLC and gear customizations. But the bigger the new installments, the more they began to feel, not only about countless climbs, finding by-products of their purpose, but also about their basic storytelling.
You can choose to choose what the character says, or theoretically, whether you should make the overall experience more immersive, but in reality it often has the opposite effect. As the script gets longer to illustrate multiple possible scenarios, I feel it lacks the same level of polish as a game with a more limited range of interactions. A script similar to a script written in the series’ action-adventure era allowed sharply defined characters that were not drawn thinly by the game structure that required the protagonist to be considerate or brutal at the player’s whims.
So, games like Assassin’s Creed Odyssey technically have more content than Assassin’s Creed 2, but I feel that much of it is covered in wood. Unfortunately, this breaks the immersion. It is very clear that they are interacting with computer-generated characters rather than complex historical figures. This is in stark contrast to the franchise’s Xbox360/PS3 era. In my humble opinion, Ezio’s speech after awarding the fiery “Don’t follow me or anyone else!” Savonarola, tragic monologue Haytham delivers when he is finally killed by his son Connor.
“I love your cheeks and don’t think I’m saying I’m wrong. I don’t cry, and I don’t think what happened. I’m sure you understand. Still, I’m proud of you in a way. You have shown great conviction. Strength. Courage. All noble qualities. I should have killed you long ago.”
Writing has suffered in other ways over the years. If modern games tend to stick to the easily digestible dichotomy of assassins, in good and Templar = bad condition, the early games became very long to show that the line between the two orders is not as clear as it is first displayed. In Assassin’s Creed 3, each defeated Templar uses his final breath to create Connor, and in turn casts the player question his beliefs. Negotiator William Johnson says the Knights Templar may have stopped Native American genocide. Hedonist Thomas Hickey calls the assassin’s mission unrealistic and promises Connor that he will never be satisfied. The Benjamin Church, which betrays Haytham, declares that it is “all perspective” and that the British, from their perspective, view themselves as victims, not as attackers.
Haytham tries to shake Connor’s faith in George Washington, claiming that the country he creates is as majoring as the monarchy where Americans try to free themselves. By the end of the game, players have more questions than answers. And the story becomes stronger for it.
Looking back at the franchise’s long history, there is a reason why Jesper KYD’s Assassin’s Creed 2 score “Ezio’s Family” resonated with players until it became the official theme of the series. PS3 games, especially Assassin’s Creed 2 and Assassin’s Creed 3, were character-driven experiences. The melancholic guitar strings from “Ezio’s Family” were not intended to evoke the game’s Renaissance setting as much as the personal trauma of losing Ezio’s family. Just as I admire the vast world building and graphical fidelity of the current generation of Assassin’s Creed games, my hope is that this out-of-control franchise will one day scale and once again offer a focused TaylorMade story that makes me love it first. Sadly, in a landscape dominated by a single-player game with vast sandboxes and live service-style ambitions, I fear it is no longer “good business.”
Tim Brinkhoff is a freelance writer specializing in art and history. After studying journalism at NYU, he continued to write for Vox, Vulture, Slate, Polygon, GQ, Esquire and more.
