 "Photo: Courtesy of IGN.com")
When I hijacked a helicopter to make it on time for a date, I knew "Grand Theft Auto IV" was going to teach me a lot about myself.
In these two months of gaming, I learned I am vengeful, yet forgiving. I do stupid things for cute girls. And I like driving fast, I hate heights and if you're begging for your life because someone has paid me to kill you, I'll probably let you live.
The learning all started earlier this summer when "GTA IV" was being hailed as one of the greatest video games ever. I wanted to help the struggling economy by being a good consumer, so I bought it.
At first, I didn't understand the hype.
Video game reviewers said the virtual environment was unparalleled. The game takes place in Liberty City - which is a New York City replica, except they replaced Staten Island with New Jersey. Reviewers couldn't get over how the people in poor neighborhoods did poor people things, and the people in rich neighborhoods did rich people things. They were amazed that virtual characters acted like real people.
To me, it seemed like common sense.
However, one day, I ran across an article online about how New Yorkers were taking out their real-life frustrations in the video game after the Sean Bell verdict. In 2006, Bell was shot 50 times by NYPD officers because they thought he was reaching for a gun outside of a night club. There was no gun, but rather a cell phone.
Bell was black, so racial tensions flared up during the trial. And when a judge found the cops not guilty, some people rioted. Others participated in marches, wrote nasty letters to the police department or became bitter toward the NYPD.
And some bought "GTA IV" and shot virtual bullets at virtual cops.
"They just want to take their anger out," a video game store employee told Kotaku, a gaming blog. "People are upset right now."
It's amazing what the game allows you to do. You can shoot cops if you want; you can go to a strip club, if that's down your alley; or you can eat at gourmet restaurants in Algonquin, which is supposed to be Manhattan.
And because of this freedom, you are permitted to make choices. But the incredible part of this game isn't that you have choices - many games give you this ability. This game is special because of the types of choices you have to make.
In the early part of the game, I was asked to kill a man for money. After I cornered him and pointed a shotgun to his head, he begged me to let him live. I did, and I felt like I did something right. Later in the game, I tracked down Darko, a man I wanted to kill throughout the entire story line. But when I had a gun to his face, I walked away again.
If my objective in this video game was to win or have fun, I would've killed these men. Instead, it seemed like my objective was much more engrained in the virtual reality: I wanted Niko, my character, to be a good person and live a good life. It's tough to do that when the storyline forces you to wound hundreds of people and kill a few more, but I couldn't help but try.
But why? This isn't even real, right?
At some point, your character can start dating women, including a mobster's sister, Kate. She's not particularly attractive, she's somewhat annoying and she has a voice I had to mute out. But the storyline introduced you to Kate, and though you were never forced to date her, I did.
Now, at this point, I - er, Niko - could've strolled into an internet lounge and found myself a hot blond girl on an internet dating site but, instead, I went out with Kate. We ate fast food at Cluckin' Bell or got drunk at the pub and played darts. On these dates, Kate told me a few things about herself, and I grew to be friends with her.
So when I walked into the internet lounge, I felt guilty and left.
When it was all said and done, I ended up landing a helicopter in front of her apartment, fighting a cab driver for running her over, and getting crime advice from her.
Then a mobster killed her at my cousin's wedding.
Throughout most of the game, I insisted on looking good, so I wore a suit from an expensive designer store. But when Kate was killed, I went and bought myself some jeans, a brown sweater and moccasins. The game let me do it, so I did - just like I would in real life.
Shortly thereafter, I beat the game.
I had nothing else to do but explore the city. And I got bored enough that I wanted to find out what happens when I shoot a passerby. So I took aim at a middle-aged man with my pistol and snuck up behind him. But when he turned around and saw me, he ran away yelling, "I have a wife and kids, please don't kill me."
In past games, the people weren't realistic enough that you felt any guilt shooting a random person. But this game was different.
The Parks Department employee works his shift raking leaves then goes home to his family. The two women on the street corner talk about their fun times last night. And the old Asian man gets up early to practice yoga on the beach. They're like real people with real lives.
Reporters are often asked to get details about someone when they die. We say it helps our readers get a more rounded feel for who the person was. And in real life hostage situations, they say you should tell your kidnapper details about your life. It helps them gain an appreciation for you as a person while reminding them the value of a human life.
The game gives you a chance to kill someone and get away with it. But often, you just don't. It feels wrong.
At work the other day, an older co-worker berated me for owning the game. She said it's just a video game and that I shouldn't be getting so much out of it. She added that the violence is too realistic.
I tend to agree with her. I shouldn't be learning things about myself from Niko, the immigrant involved in Mafia business. And throwing a grenade inside someone's car is a bit uncivil.
But that's not what people were thinking when they bought the game after the Sean Bell verdict. Their emotions were real and legitimate, and what they thought they wanted to do in real life was far from civil. So they played this game trying to simulate real life.
But if that's how they played the game, I'm guessing these angry New Yorkers heard the conversation between two virtual cops drinking a cup of coffee. And I'm guessing more than one of them stopped themselves from shooting.
And that's not a credit to the game, because the game simply reflects our environment. It's a credit to us.
Alvin Chang is a columnist. E-mail him at achang@nyunews.com.
