Red Dead 2: Frontier Myths
Prequel Anxiety
Given that Red Dead Redemption was a standalone tale with no real connection to Red Dead Revolver, most fans figured that the next game in the series would follow that brief tradition. It would be focused on a new protagonist, in a unique time or setting, and tell another independent story. Fans threw around names like Red Dead Retribution.
When Rockstar announced that it was going to be a direct prequel to Redemption, and it would simply be called “Red Dead Redemption 2,” some folks were mildly concerned. Wouldn’t a prequel just dilute John’s story? You didn’t need to hear the endless details about the gang’s backstory to understand that John Marston and his antagonists had bad blood. Even more confounding: we were getting an entirely new protagonist. One who is never mentioned in the original game in spite of his supposed importance to the gang.
You can argue that Redemption 2 would have worked just as well with John Marston as the protagonist, and you wouldn’t necessarily be wrong.
Arthur Morgan — the new hero — and John both go through very similar character development. But in spite of this rocky premise, which could have failed horribly if it had been handled by other writers, genuinely worked.
This is a great game, with a great story, and a great finish.
And by the end of it, I found myself far more attached to Arthur Morgan than I ever was to John Marston, and I very much enjoyed the original Redemption.
Running from the Romanticized Frontier
The whole game is built around America’s obsession with the great Western frontier. We romanticize it. We love the notion of exploring new places and taming new lands. And for plenty of people, they very much enjoy the thought of living away from the “the Man’s” reach. Few rules, minimal oversight, and — supposedly — generous freedom away from civilized society and government interference.
After a heist gone wrong, the Dutch Van der Linde gang is forced to flee the West and return to the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains until things “cool off.” Through the game, Arthur’s greatest ambition is to return to the West. A place he associates with happier times.
You will never see it.
Arthur acknowledges that his love for the West is based heavily on nostalgia, and admits that “the West” was conquered a long time ago. There is only society now. The era of the frontier is over. It’s a fantasy.
This game is about trying to escape from the inevitable — constantly racing toward nostalgic illusions while grim reality nips at your heels. And it’s going to catch you. You have to learn to accept it.
An Unraveling Trainwreck
The story of Red Dead Redemption 2 begins very slowly, but this is a trap to lull you into a sense of security. The early chapters of the game move at a pace best described as a mosey.
Your main incentive to push forward is to earn money and pull heists to get the Van der Linde gang back on its feet. You can wander and roam the gorgeous landscape. Go hunting. Fish. The fishing is admittedly pretty great. You don’t feel cornered. You feel like you’re camping (and occasionally robbing people).
Dutch is still a fairly competent leader at the beginning of the game. He presents himself as a Robin Hood figure who robs only from the extremely wealthy industrialists and the government. He takes pride in the fact that he “uplifts” people from hardship.
The gang reflects this. You are surrounded by people of African descent (one generation removed from slavery), Native American descent (recently moved onto reservations), of Irish descent, women, and others from otherwise unhappy situations. All are given equal freedoms under Dutch’s leadership. Society would have stomped on most of the gang without mercy, but they can live in relative peace as outlaws.
And then things get fucked.
The game’s meandering pace and Dutch’s early Robin Hood marketing quickly unravel. Every botched heist, every criticism, every little thing that goes wrong will send Dutch van der Linde further into manic desperation.
And things go wrong. All the time. Soon, so many things will be going wrong that the entire game feels like a torture. I made the bulk of my money from one successful heist. Everything else was an absolute trainwreck, and there’s nothing Arthur can do to stop it. Dutch can’t plan anything, the law is always there, and any criticism of Dutch results in you being pushed further out of the inner circle.
The back-half chapters move quickly and with an increasing sense of urgency as things rapidly fall apart. By the finale, things are darker and more intense than anything you encountered in the first Redemption.
Because it was inevitable. You can’t run from it. It’s coming for you. And that’s what makes this prequel somehow even more tragic than the first game.
John Marston’s death was a quick and sudden betrayal.
Here, you can see what’s coming long before the climax. And by the end of it, you are wishing for the game to just stop. Because seeing Arthur in the late stages of the game is heartbreaking and upsetting, and where you once shared his desire to have a surprise happy ending in the West, you now know it isn’t going to happen. And you’re begging the game to just please stop it.
Both you and Arthur accept the inevitable doom of the gang. With Dutch growing increasingly unhinged, made worse by the Wormtogue-esque meddling of a fellow gang member named Micah, your primary goal becomes saving your friends from oblivion. Because by the time shit really starts to hit the fan, you’ve already bonded with the less-abrasive gang members. That’s why the early meandering chapters were a trap. To trick you into being comfortable and familial. Every happy moment leading up the climax just added fuel to the final trainwreck.
There are happy endings, but you won’t ever fully escape the misery.
Recognition and Legacy
We all have limited time. Some more limited than others. In our constant attempts to escape death, we often feel as if lives only count as “important” if they are recognized and publicly honored for years afterward. Or if you created some lasting, tangible legacy through invention or notable action.
In reality, most of us won’t be remembered for more than a generation or two after our deaths. And that’s okay.
You don’t have to be in the history books to make a difference.
You impact countless lives every day, influencing events both large and small. You may not make a lasting impact on society, but you can better everyone around you by helping others. Or tear lives apart if you’re an absolute asshole, but try to focus on the bettering.
Arthur is never mentioned again in the Red Dead timeline.
He is not considered a famous gunslinger, even if his skills possibly exceed those of celebrity gun duelists.
Much of his life was lived in anonymity.
But Arthur still changed everyone around him. He was more devoted to the gang and its original ideals of equality than John Marston ever was. Throughout the game, you can see that he has amazing potential as an artist and a writer — and maybe, if his life had a happier start, he could have led a happy life of recognition. When things go off the rails, Arthur is the one who does the most to get things back under control.
And he is responsible for the various happy endings that others will have, and in doing that, you and he both achieve a little piece of humble, unspoken eternity.
But karma is going to catch you, one way or another. And Red Dead Redemption 2 proves itself to be brilliantly bittersweet.