Future Cult Classic: “Star Wars: Outlaws” and the Joys of Unintended Narrative
As they say in “Apocalypse Now”: in wars, there are many moments for compassion and ruthless action. Same could be said about “Star Wars.” The franchise itself might be a sheer corporate hellscape, but there’s still points of true humanity and the limitless, unbridled joy of exploring not just a different world, but a different history.
Nowhere this contradiction is more apparent than in “Star Wars: Outlaws”, Massive Entertainment and Ubisoft’s soft-selling, mixedly received, soon-to-be-actually-playable open world crime (and hoverbike crashing) simulator. It’s arguably the most unusual and interesting SW-related digital product to appear on the market since 1995’s “Dark Forces.” But it’s also one of the many “it’s bad, but it’s still Star Wars!” video games that (sort of) crashed and burned on their launch. Hey, at least it functions somewhat better than “Masters of Teras Kasi”… although you cannot really tell from some of the reviews.
It’s also — also arguably — the greatest gift to the fans who want NOTHING but “Star Wars” from their “Star Wars,” the video game version of the painstaking attempts to recreate the pre-Special Edition, pre-“A New Hope” version of the OG 1977 movie. The set designs are pure Ralph McQuarrie; the ships are 1970s toys; the creatures are Tippett-esque rubber prosthetics. It belongs in a museum, there’s no doubt of that. The question is, should it be a museum of humankind, or of some future alien race from a galaxy far away whose tentacles are so ill-shaped as to never, ever try and play “Outlaws” with a controller?
We’d like to make an argument that “Outlaws” is a GREAT “Star Wars” video game — and a great game, period — that’s designed to be played in a very specific way. What’s more, it’s the way that was completely and utterly unintended by the game’s creators who, by the looks of it, honestly consider themselves the makers of a straightforward, story-driven sandbox game with a beloved protagonist.
Now, one of the accusations leveled at “Outlaws” is the incredible blandness of its lead, Kay Vess. As Eurogamer’s Chris Tapsell points out in his 2 out of 5 (!!!) review, the creators’ mistake “is conflating a character archetype — scoundrel — with actual character.” One could argue that the game’s lead writer Navid Khavari also conflates a heist movie outline with plot, banter with dialogue and the worst “there’s ANOTHER person standing behind them with a smoking blaster!” cliches of the genre with story arc denouements.
But it also “Outlaws’” main strength in what it’s (unintentionally) achieves: there’s almost no characterization to speak of! Kay is a near-empty vessel in which you could pour your own understanding of what this particular archetype stands for, in which ways such a space rogue should conduct themselves in tough spots and behave in interactions with other characters. After the opening 2 hours or so, there’s barely any storyline to speak of, so there’s no predefined plot standing between you and the game’s many open worlds. You just rolled a random scoundrel (background: indistinct; stats: generic; defining traits: none) on your character sheet… now go explore!
And its Peak Empire — circa 3–4 ABY, in-between “The Empire Strikes Back” and “Return of the Jedi” — we’re talking about here! As good as such classics as “Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic I-II” are, it’s still the Old Republic, quite possibly the most pedestrian setting ever invented in the history of fiction. Everything about these games is boring EXCEPT for their brilliant plots, characters and gameplay, thanks to their place in the timeline, right in the middle of a sluggish, turgid era of peace; 4000+ years before anything of actual interest started happening in the galaxy.
In “Outlaws,” we find ourselves in an angry hornets’ nest: an absolute dictatorship that has been shown its own end, in miniature, with the first Death Star’s explosion, and became much more dangerous for it. There’s no safe place for any law-abiding citizen, let alone criminals with 4 interstellar mafia families on their (and their pet creature’s) tails!
The feel of the Empire’s impeccably evil presence is conducted perfectly by the game’s manically detailed and (at the same time) psychotically sterile interiors of hangars, outposts and starships that could (and should) be explored no less diligently than the game’s vibrant and varied planetside locations. Again, it’s this perfect feeling of being stuck at an enemy base in the middle of a protracted roleplaying section that George Lucas strived for in the original movie. With no easy way out, you better make this bland and hostile location your new home, and learn as much about the inner workings of Imperial Outpost 31 in the Southern Badlands of Toshara as you can!
With the game’s stealth mechanics being as bad as they are (pre-pre-patch, at least), you’ll be able to do a full base inventory and list its senior officership before seeing the light of freedom beyond all the sweaty hacking. And it’s this unwilling attention to detail that creates a sense of realism to rival “Andor”’s — there’s nothing that makes you feel more small and less significant in the face of a vast and omnipotent bureaucracy than a petty memo to personnel! Frankly, the game could only consist of the Imperial setpieces (or entanglements?) and still be as good in what it tries to accomplish… but then it would’ve been called “Star Wars: Dark Forces” or “Shadows of the Empire.”
And then there’s the crime families themselves. The Hutt Cartel alone, at the height of its powers, would be a perfect antagonist in any other “Star Wars” game — and there’s no need to stray into relationships with Crimson Dawn or the Ashiga Clan if you just want to keep yourself out of carbonite and in Jabba’s good graces. You’ve always wanted to be Henchman #5 on a “Sopranos”-style show set in His Excellency of Tatooine’s not-so-secret hideout in the Northern Dune Sea? Well, here’s your chance — just stay away from these damn Pyke scum if you know what’s good for ya!
The list could go on and on — once you start digging for specific content, “Outlaws” is a nearly bottomless abyss. And that’s a definition of a cult classic: a work of art with undeniable strong points that are buried under so many layers of their authors’ poor creative decisions as to be appreciated only in an archaeological, or even geological sense. For intrepid, brave souls willing to sink countless hours in overcoming a single poorly placed checkpoint, it’s there for the taking. For most of humankind, it’s enough to know such a thing simply exists — right now, in our galaxy, as a result of a corporate happenstance too strange and mysterious to even repeat itself in the history of cosmos.
