Mass Effect

I'm a big fan of Mass Effect, a videogame recently developed by Bioware.  In the sequel, inventively named Mass Effect 2, there was a particular character who caught my attention.  Spoilers, if you haven't played the game (which was excellent).  Her name was Miranda Lawson.  For those not familiar with the character, she was genetically designed by her father to give her perfect features and a perfect mind.  She was raised mostly secluded, trained by private tutors, and trotted out at parties as the heir presumptive and beginning of a "dynasty."  Where her character became interesting to me, however, was in her personality.  She is blatantly sexualized, as is not surprising in a videogame these days, but was completely aware of it.  She intentionally accented it in order to manipulate others by wearing revealing clothing, and in a profound sense was emotionally disconnected from her body; it was not "her" in a real sense.  This, along with a sense of self-deprecation buried beneath raw ability and competence, gave the character some depth. 

What really got me, however, was a conversation between the player and Miranda involving the concept of worth.  Miranda argues that the player character, with his/her (conveniently selectable) history of defying-the-odds achievements as well as the achievements of the first game, is superior to herself on a scale of judgment based on achievements versus the degree of difficulty as weighted by personal advantages.  In this light her own achievements hardly qualify as her own, much less as commendable.  The player character can (as I did) respond with a counter proposal; that achievement and value is actually based on choosing a system of values and consistently staying with them.  In that light, Miranda does, indeed, have something to claim as her own.  She expresses gratitude, and it was a rare moment of real communication about an actual issue in a videogame.  Gasp.

Then Bioware, the developer, dropped the ball.  If the moment had been meaningful, as it attempted to portray itself, there would have been change.  Perhaps Miranda would have started to wear more concealing clothing, marking a visual progression in her feelings of self-worth, and more particularly, self-respect.  Yet she continues to inconsistently thank the player for helping her to come to terms with herself while still wearing that ridiculous outfit.  A great opportunity wasted.  Which is, perhaps, why I purchased the optional downloadable content which gives her a more concealing (and practical, as it's body armor) outfit, so I could carry out this little fantasy of true character development.  But it should have happened in the normal game.  So close, yet so far.