It’s one of the most technically accomplished games of its generation, itself feat matched only by the feature rich nature of its venerable content. At the same time, the aggression and haste behind Rogue’s assembly must feel palpable by the very same audience it’s trying to court. For the ignorant or uninterested, Rogue is marvelous – and for everyone else its gifts leave a sense of despondency.
It’s no secret that Rogue isn’t a priority in the larger Assassin’s Creed universe. Unity, a graphically impressive darling groomed exclusively for the current generation of consoles, commands most of the spotlight and (even in its post-release infamy) most of the gaming world’s attention. With that in mind, there is something virtuous about Ubisoft’s lack of compromise in its suite of Assassin’s Creed games. If Assassin’s Creed IV felt stuck between two disparate worlds, Rogue would better embrace the strengths of its comparatively ancient platforms. Rogue does that, technically, but only by way of unabashed repetition. Ubisoft didn’t build a game catered to a specific platform, but rather rearranged existing content in order to pass it off as a complete and competitive experience.
The only area where Rogue appears to have something new to say lies with its narrative. Shay Cormac, at face value, isn’t an engrossing character, and sketchy Irish accent along with an inept pursuit of a dues ex machina don’t do him any favors. What’s interesting, however, is Ubisoft’s insistence in positioning Shay as an instrument of narrative disruption. Shay’s puckish nature as a titular rogue is an immaterial giveaway to a languid plot twist, but his position as an agent of chaos is significant in the narrative’s larger picture. Most of Shay’s missions end with him offing a character honored or exalted by Assassin’s Creed’s rich lineage of games. It’s possible that none of these people were players in the grand narrative and Rogue serves as a convenient way to write them out of the series, but there’s still a certain gravity when their existence is essentially extinguished from the series’ lore.
Miserable choices in the writing department dull some of the narrative’s impact. I lost count of the times Shay told an opponent, “I make my own luck,” and actually started wondering if he’d eventually start flipping Two Face’s coin every time he said it. Other moments composed of easy lines dominate the experience (“What, you thought you were the only one?” along with other superb non-reveals are in great supply). It feels like the writing team finally ran out of things to say when Shay engages in a dialogue with a dying target, and opted to err on the side of irresponsible cliché whenever given the chance. The only dialogue of note is provided by the in-game design team at Abstergo Entertainment (itself directly reproduced from Assassin’s Creed IV), which I believe to be deliberately constructed to make those characters feel like talentless hacks. Intended or not, it’s effective in its mission.
If Rogue’s narrative lies somewhere between a happy accident or a calculated play, its gameplay is unapologetically lifted from Assassin’s Creed IV. You command a ship and you engage in naval battles against other ships. You can land on islands both remote and populated and complete heaps of interminable optional content. A myriad of inventories are ripe for upgrading, viewpoints beg to be reached, and forts feel like they exist to be divided and conquered. Rogue even assembles a genre-requisite asymmetric naval campaign, with the player sending their fleet of ships off on missions around the world – and hopefully returning with the spoils of victory.
It’s worth mentioning that I blazed completely through Rogue and only engaged the absolute minimum of extraneous content. I never felt the need to go hunting to upgrade my inventory or weapons because all of those seemed good enough in their existing state. I never felt the need to take over additional forts because I never found myself in need to extra income. I did get smoked by Rogue’s final ship combat sequence, but a bit of practice and minor upgrading got me the rest of the way I needed to go. If you’re set out on 100%’ing Rogue, engaging in legendary ship battles, or discovering the limits of its content, some of these diversions might become necessary – but it feels like a waste of time if you’ve done all of it ad-nauseum in Assassin’s Creed IV.
For its part, Rogue does push a few new wrinkles into its threadbare fabric. Hidden assassins populate the nooks and crannies of Rogue’s urban environments, popping out of the apparent ether at the most inconvenient of times. Audible whispers and quick switch to eagle vision give their location away with ease, but assassins remained successful in keeping my on my toes. Other increments in the form of icebergs (break them to throw enemy ships off kilter), Puckle gun (target opposing an opposing ship’s vulnerabilities), and a trail of burning oil flesh out the ship combat a bit. Perhaps the most meaningful change comes in an enemy ship’s ability to board your vessel, initiating a hand-to-hand battle until either side is vanquished.
The majority of Rogue’s campaign missions feel composed of similarly recycled material. Pure assassinations make room for optional challenges, like stringing a guy up with the newfound grappling hook or completely avoiding detection. There’s a bit of fun to be had playing around inside of systems that have entrenched themselves in Assassin’s Creed’s rich history, but they fall prey to exploits of accommodation. You can get through nearly every mission by running up to a guy and stabbing him right in the heart. Resistance is occasionally met through bad luck or a lack of finesse in Rogue’s mash-friendly combat, but the game, either by design or by circumstance, doesn’t put up much of a fight.
Exceptions arrive in the form of a cataclysmic earthquake the player must push Shay through. It’s reminiscent of the “collapsing building” segment that defined Uncharted 2’s blockbuster persona, only fleshed out requisite progress you’d expect five years later. Rogue actually employs this sequence again toward its finale, but misappropriate its strengths with the series’ seemingly unavoidable sci-fi twists. Even in its good ideas, Rogue twists and contorts their nature into unfamiliar and uncomfortable circumstances.
The positioning of Rogue’s product is also worth considering. If you take away the weight of repetition, Rogue is a technically amazing game. Even at half the length of a traditional Assassin’s Creed game, there’s a ton of content to explore and complete. If you never played Assassin’s Creed IV, a great deal of Rogue may feel new and almost revolutionary. Along similar lines, it’s a great looking game on its nine-year-old hardware. Running through the American frontier, sailing around on frigid waters, and engaging in light open-world antics all function in line with the series’ past entries (and this includes Assassin’s Creed’s legendary instances of technical gaffs). Ignoring Rogue’s history boosts its playing experience, though it comes at the cost of coherently understanding its supporting narrative.
Unfortunately Rogue stays buried under its myriad of qualifiers. It’s not worth its current asking price, and it’s almost certainly going to see a jazzed up release on modern consoles sometime in 2015. This positions Rogue as required-playing under a trembling handful of circumstances. If you can’t get enough Assassins’s Creed, if you only have a PlayStation 3 or an Xbox 360, if you skipped Assassin’s Creed IV, and if you’ve exhausted all 2014’s roster of quality software, Rogue comes highly recommended. Otherwise, it’s a startling gambit that players won’t notice Ubisoft shipped the same game two years in a row.
Be sure to check out Frank Hummel’s take on Assassin’s Creed Rogue with his review of the Xbox 360 version.
