In episode one, I thought Clementine's suturing scene was egregious, played for shock value. This is also as violent as Telltale has ever been, and it completely sells Carver's cruelty and the brutality of this post-apocalyptic world. Without Clementine, they'd all be dead.Įpisode three's setting may be the most constraining of the season so far, but it does introduce a couple new characters (and survivors from season one DLC 400 Days) I want to see more of. Most of the characters mope around helplessly, or bluster into getting themselves caught. But she'd still be the 11-year-old girl that the adults all turn to for help. I realize that if I chose different options-if I blamed someone instead of taking responsibility, or stayed silent instead of speaking up, my Clementine may be very different. Maybe this is part of her coming-of-age growth, but it loses some of the nuance of Clementine's interactions from earlier in the season. Telltale has written adult-like dialogue options for Clementine, choices that make her less believable as a young character. Clementine feels so strong and confident because that's how I play her. When Clementine sighs "Why does it always have to be me?" it's just too on-the-nose-it has to be me because I'm the one playing the game, and it wouldn't be much of a game if I sat around doing nothing.īut that's not the only reason. It's ridiculous, and reminds me that I'm an adult controlling a child in a video game. In episode three, everyone knows she's tough, and the rest of the characters sheepishly give Clementine the most dangerous responsibilities while they sit around freaking out. Why, then, does the 11-year-old Clementine feel so much stronger than nearly all of the characters around her? In Harm's Way mostly abandons the dialogue options Clem had in season two's first episode, which allowed her to act innocent to manipulate adults. Living in fear of Carver adds an uncomfortable uncertainty to every choice-a reminder that my attempts to escape might fail, and they might have severe consequences. Prisoners do not get to choose where they go and what they do. That scene aside, the more I played, the more I felt like Telltale knew exactly how it was using this limitation. It felt unfair, like I was the victim of Telltale's game engine-if I'd taken a different path, maybe my capture would've made sense. The transition from exploring to cutscene was so jarring, I actually thought I'd failed the scene in some way: one second I was alone, the next I'd been caught by a character who wasn't there a second before. Clementine left the door open, which I wouldn't have done. One particular moment stood out: I was abruptly caught skulking around for seemingly no reason. Clementine wanted to escape, and so did I, but I had no control over how I tried to escape. Once imprisoned by Carver, I was frustrated by the game forcing me from place to place without my input. The location of an episode never felt limiting. I was following the story, unconsciously assuming that they were going wherever they could to survive. In previous episodes, I never chose where Lee or Clementine were going in the world, but I didn't feel like I needed to. The Walking Dead always shoves its cast headlong into tragedy, but this is the first instance that its characters have truly been prisoners. In a weird way, episode three makes me feel helpless as a player while making Clementine feel far more capable than any 11-year-old should realistically be. But I've played enough of Telltale's adventures now to get how the scene works, and to comfort myself with the knowledge that this particular death was almost certainly a predetermined plot point. I feel terrible about it, replaying the choice in my head, wondering if I could've saved them. At one point, I make a decision that causes Carver to kill. It feels like any dialogue option, any decision, may incur his wrath.
Surviving under Carver's thumb sets up an unnerving structure for the episode.
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