Understanding the appeal of Uncharted isn't difficult. It's basically a transmutation of every single action-adventure film pushed into a nominally game-like form. And while that's perhaps the hoariest of reasons to make a game, there's no denying that Naughty Dog (of Crash Bandicoot fame) have poured an obscene amount of money and energy into their goal, making a game that's far more enjoyable than its similar brethren.
But here's the rub: everything that Uncharted does, it does well. It just doesn't really set out to do much. Imagine if you will, for a second, that all of the world's top chefs got together to make the world's greatest gourmet corndog. These chefs pour every ounce of their passion into creating a corndog that has scrumptious batter and an amazing hotdog in the middle – but at the end of the day, these chefs have still just made a corndog. That's exactly what Uncharted is.
And heck, even corndogs can be enjoyable from time to time, but only in the gaming industry would we champion the world's greatest corndog as the greatest thing ever made. Uncharted is disposable and fun and lighthearted and eminently enjoyable, and it really doesn't strive to do much more than that. So why such rapture? Why such thunderous applause?
Uncharted, as you're probably aware, tells the story of Nathan Drake, an Indiana Jones-type treasure hunter without the doctoral bonafides. Instead, Drake is a treasure hunter for hire, working in the employ of Victor Sullivan, whose debts have left him searching for "one big find." Along for the ride is the television reporter Elena, who operates a camera so janky that it's incredible that she still has a job, and a variety of "oogy-boogy" black people who serve as the game's many, many disposable antagonists.
The plot is so straightforward that it almost seems criminal, telling a story of hidden treasure (that, weirdly enough, you never really have to search out) and evil foes that wouldn't be out of place in a 40s pulp novel. There's absolutely no depth, but that's not really the prerogative of Uncharted. The problem moreso lies in the characterization, which is enjoyable, again, on a surface level, but nothing beyond that. The characters are so enrapt in spectacle that they never get a chance to grow or to become likable beyond the initial impressions that their uncanny movements and voice acting lend them.
In gameplay, everything just clicks together and works incredibly well. Mechanically, this is as polished a game as they come, never feeling like a slog or uninteresting. Partially, this is due to the sheer gumption of the game's many, many action setpieces – Uncharted throws spectacle after spectacle at the player, and it's certainly enough to keep even the twitchiest of players from getting bored.
But once again, it's a corndog. What you're actually doing requires no intelligence or foresight, and it isn't based on making the player feel involved – rather, all of the "immersive" cinematic stuff managed to keep me at a distance throughout the game's tight, eight-hour playtime. And then when you end up, as always, in a Gears of War-esque corridor shootout with many conveniently-placed pieces of cover, it feels almost inordinately rote. Yes, this all works incredibly well, but what purpose is it serving? And if cinematic escapism is the goal, let me ask, in which Indiana Jones film did Indy brutally murder hundreds of guerrillas? No Indiana Jones movies? Oh, that's right, because that's LUDICROUS.
It's the murder problem, all over again. Nathan Drake is supposed to be a charming, likable person, but under our control (and for gameplay purposes, apparently), he's made to shoot way, way too many people. I harp on about this in a lot of HD games but that's because it's fucking stupid. Even if it works, even if it's nominally "fun," it's stupid.
Everything in the game is about making the player feel empowered, and that's often at the expense of the game itself. Nathan is a parkour machine who can take dozens of bullets and not be slowed down, jumping from ledge to ledge while absorbing shotgun blasts right to his chest, and while it makes the game enjoyable, it doesn't make gameplay sense. Add in the lack of engaging level design (the jungle seems to have a lot of corridors that funnel people towards open areas ripe for gunplay!) and the game is nothing more than pretty facade.
And you know what? It's a better pretty facade than most HD games can manage. It's fun, at least. So why couldn't we leave it at that? Why am I reading about how Uncharted is the premier game of this generation when it's nothing more than a fun Gears of Persia? Let's just leave this game as a fun example of a fun genre, and not lose our shit over it. Corndogs are tasty, but they're not a meal.