3 min read
For the longest time, Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty was one of my least liked entries in the Solid series. I even put it dead last at one point. Then, as I got older, I began noticing one of humanity’s darkest sides. It feels as if society, instead of moving forward, refuses to do so as we become dead set in our ways — even going backwards in some instances.
As I think of the current landscape, I think back to MGS2. “Kojima warned us all those years ago.” It’s no exaggeration to say that the game and its themes aged like fine wine.
But back in 2001, it was a wholly different story.
There was confusion at first. Instead of another adventure as Solid Snake, he’s wrested from the player’s control mid-game, placing you in the shoes of a freshman named Raiden. However, Snake never went away: he was equally at arm’s length, acting as an observer and later mentor for the rookie, and also unavailable for the player to control for the rest of the game.
The effect is twofold: not only is the player confused, but Raiden echoes said confusion in earnest as both parties stumble their way, trying to make sense of what’s happening. Emotions ran high — expecting players were furious at the bait-and-switch, and there was no thought given to the message being communicated.
This weaponization of postmodernism and meta-trickery is unlike anything ever seen in video games, and it worked precisely because of how limited the access to information was at the time. We can all agree that what Kojima and his team did then would be next to impossible to pull off today. But what did they try to communicate within this beautiful mess?
As part of a larger re-examination by the community, YouTube essayist ProfessorViral presents a character analysis of Raiden per his depiction in MGS2. This is not all it is, though; as they explore the inconsistencies of his character, they come up with a theory: how Raiden’s denial of his situation, always looking for the things that bring him comfort and avoiding accountability, his whole character is a walking thesis on convenient truths.
Raiden’s flaws aren’t writing gaffes — they are very much deliberate and necessary to make the point. It’s as if the game is telling the player, “You’re frustrated with Raiden because you see yourself in him.” When the Patriots reveal their end game, how the whole mission was a big lie, Raiden has an existential crisis. Is everything he lived up to that point a lie as well?
This resonates even more as the essayist themselves has an existential crisis while discussing the topic. A display that’s equal parts gut-wrenching and powerful because of it. It deeply moved me, and I commend their bravery for being so vulnerable in public.
While future entries in the series would show Raiden taking control of his destiny and, in Metal Gear Rising specifically, outright kill his prior characterization in favor of more flashy, cool setpieces as the de facto Gray Fox successor, we always have his depiction in MGS2 as testament to how he’s a layered, complex and brilliantly written character, even if it’s not obvious at first. It certainly wasn’t to me for the longest time, and now I regret my words and deeds.