Ever play a game where the hero gives some big, emotional speech in a cutscene about how tough killing is... and then five minutes later you're pulling off headshots like a human aimbot and clearing a room of fifty dudes without breaking a sweat?
A bit contradictive, yeah? That's got a name: ludonarrative dissonance.
Basically, it's when the story the game is telling you clashes hard with what you're actually doing in the game.
The "ludo" (gameplay) and the "narrative" (story) aren't just on different pages; sometimes they feel like they're in different books entirely.
Most of the time, games nail it.
Spooky horror game? Limited ammo, clunky controls – makes sense. Epic space opera? Giant ships, cool powers – checks out. But sometimes, things get... awkward.
That moment where you think, "Hang on, would this character really just do that?" That's the dissonance kicking in.
Case Study #1: Nathan Drake – Lovable Goofball or Unhinged Killer?
Uncharted is probably the classic example everyone brings up.
In the cutscenes, Nathan Drake is funny, charming, a bit clumsy, loves history, and usually wants to avoid killing if he can help it. He's the action hero you'd wanna grab a beer with.
Then you pick up the controller.
Suddenly, Nate transforms into a one-man army. Forget sneaking past guys or talking his way out; it’s grenade launchers and neck-snaps galore.
He racks up a body count that would make most action movie heroes blush. Look, the games are fun as hell, no doubt. But you can't deny there's a disconnect between the Nate we see in the story and the killing machine we actually play as.
Case Study #2: Lara Croft (2013) – From Terrified Survivor to Rambo in Record Time
Remember the Tomb Raider reboot?
It starts super intense. Lara's young, scared, shipwrecked. Her first kill is brutal, messy, and clearly shakes her to her core. The game wants you to feel her vulnerability, her trauma.
...And then, like, ten minutes later?
She's expertly lining up headshots, crafting advanced weaponry, and clearing out entire camps of hardened mercenaries like she was born doing it.
The story is aiming for gritty survival, but the gameplay quickly shifts into high-gear power fantasy. That sudden switch can definitely give you whiplash and make you question how seriously the game is taking its own emotional setup.
Case Study #3: Red Dead Redemption 2 – Arthur Morgan, Saint or Psycho?
Arthur Morgan is one of gaming's great characters.
Red Dead 2's story shows him wrestling with morality, loyalty, and his place in a dying world. He can be thoughtful, kind to strangers, regretful.
But step outside those story missions?
You, the player, can have Arthur be an absolute menace. Help an old lady one minute, then hogtie a random passerby and leave them on the train tracks the next. Rob stores, start bar fights, be a general terror.
Rockstar tries to nudge you with the Honor system, rewarding good deeds and punishing bad ones, but ultimately, the leash is pretty loose. You can easily play Arthur in a way that feels completely at odds with the thoughtful outlaw the main story often portrays.
So, Does This Stuff Actually Matter?
Honestly? Not always.
Sometimes it's just a clumsy accident – maybe the gameplay team wanted cool combat, and the story team wanted deep characters, and they didn't quite sync up. It happens.
We still love plenty of games that have this dissonance.
But sometimes, it's done on purpose.
Think Spec Ops: The Line. That game wants you to feel gross. The gameplay is standard cover-shooter stuff, making you feel powerful and efficient.
But the story keeps twisting the knife, showing you the horrific results of your "heroic" actions. The clash between the familiar gameplay and the disturbing narrative is the whole point.
It makes you think about what you're doing.
Can Devs Even Avoid This?
Yeah, but it takes effort. Here are a few ways they try to keep things lined up:
- Make the Gameplay Match the Character: If your hero hates killing, don't make the main gameplay loop about racking up kills. Give 'em stealth, non-lethal options, stuff that fits who they're supposed to be.
- Build Mechanics Around the Story: The Last of Us does this well. It's a grim world, so ammo is scarce, crafting feels desperate, and combat is brutal and messy. The gameplay feels like survival, matching the story's tone.
- Just Roll With It: Some games know players might go off-script and build that in. Undertale is a great example, where the game fundamentally changes based on whether you play violently or peacefully, acknowledging your choices directly.
Ludonarrative dissonance isn't going to kill a game.
We've all played and loved games where the hero's actions felt a little... off compared to their personality. But when designers really nail it, when the story they're telling and the things they let you do feel perfectly in sync?
That's when a game just clicks. It feels right.
When they don't? Well, you get Nathan Drake – history buff, charmer, and maybe, just maybe, an accidental war criminal with a really high K/D ratio.
And hey, sometimes that's fun too.
