This Weekly Post-Ed is entirely about the recent PS5 exclusive God of War Ragnarök. If that’s not your thing or you are averse to spoilers, then I invite you to enjoy the rest of the known internet until you are ready to read about it. Much love as always, and feel free to click around the website all you like.
Cheers!
GOD OF LORE
The recent reboot of the God of War series by Santa Monica Studios has been the most comprehensive representation of Norse Mythology in decades. I would position God of War in front of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s rendition of the titular Thor and the Norse pantheon, as well as Neil Gaiman’s beloved American Gods series.
I spent the past month watching a playthrough of God of War Ragnarök, a roughly 22-hour marathon for the main storyline. The immensity of the game and its lore brought to life a harsh Viking world ruled by gods, giving brevity to a frozen, expansive universe wrought by Fimbulwinter—the long, desolate snowscape that entraps the world before the end of all things known as Ragnarök. Littered across the nine realms were beasts and enemies imbued with Bifrost powers. Menacing bosses and lesser gods attacked our heroes at Odin’s whim, breathing life to a stunning and varied pantheon of powerful beings.
Our hero, Kratos, the titular god of war, began his journey to Ragnarök at the conclusion of the previous title. In that game, Kratos and his son, Atreus, complete the burial ceremony of his deceased giantess wife, Faye, and succeeded in scattering her ashes from the highest peaks in each of the nine realms, but not without consequences. Kratos encountered demigods from the Norse pantheon, ultimately killing the two sons of Thor, resulting in a debt that was to be paid back in blood.
At the start of God of War Ragnarök, Atreus is older, a teenager transitioning into manhood, and careening towards a life where he will have to answer his own destiny. Kratos must prepare his son for a possible life without him—it was the vision given to Kratos that when Ragnarök destroys Asir, he must also die.
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SOME GAMEPLAY THINGS
I admit that I’m not so interested in the gameplay mechanics of story-driven video games. Yes, I’m one of those viewers who enjoys getting to the next major cutscene to see what happens next. However, as impatient as I was to get on with the story, I was just as pleased by the constant injection of new skills and abilities that complicated the puzzles in God of War Ragnarök. It wasn’t a case of acquiring a skill that would then lead to cutting down a discolored bush that conveniently blocked a previous pathway, but instead introduced new combinations of abilities that coalesced into skills that amplified fights with more intense enemies.
Not only were the puzzles consistently interesting without overused mechanics (think: freezing waterfalls or cranking a wheel to unlock a drawbridge or pathway), but the enemies themselves were just as varied and unique. Mini bosses with health bars the length of the screen were equipped with move sets and AI that didn’t bore the player, often leading to gratifying and earned conclusions to epic fights. And each major enemy had their own finishing sequence or killing cutscene where Kratos absolutely butchers a body to pieces in a way that pays homage to the gruesome origins of the series—all of it highly satisfying and must-watch brutality.
The weapon crafting system added new abilities and combos regularly, and it was a joy to watch the complexity and combination of move sets with the improved battle system. While Kratos no longer launches into the air and mutilates waves of soldiers/beasts like in the original trilogy, the realism of the fight sequences added a sense of drama and stakes that made every outcome earned and worthwhile.
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BOUND TO FATE
The story of Kratos in God of War Ragnarök has the titular warrior battling his past life, one in which saw the likes of Apollo, Zeues, Hercules murdered in his quest for vengeance. Atreaus, meanwhile, is facing the future, Ragnarok and the end of the world, and his connection to fate in the cataclysmic event. Atreus is, in fact, this world’s Norse Loki—a centra figure in bringing about the end of the world in Norse mythology. With his fate prophesied certainty, he tries to break free of fate, to uncover Odin’s plot before the all-father can achieve his plan of acquiring ultimate knowledge to preserve Asir gods and his rule.
The journey of the game is a proverbial breaking free from assumed pathways of our lives, to claim a future that is not dictated by the past. Whether that means growing out of the shadow of our parents (as Atreus and Thor must decide) or to discard a past in which we no longer think ourselves loyal (as in the vengeance that defined Kratos through the first trilogy of games as he killed the gods of Olympus), there comes the question of choosing to be better.
This game is asking if we have a choice in all of that.
Many characters must wrestle with what it means to serve fate or act differently from prophecy. Will Thor serve his father, Odin, at the cost of his family and history as a drunken bodyguard to the all-father? Will Freya, the former Queen of the Valkyrie’s and former wife of Odin, wish to kill Kratos for the death of her son, Baldur (which was the final fight in the previous God of War title—a decision that cost his friendship with Freya and made her a merciless enemy)?
As Kratos concludes later in the game, “Fate only binds you if you let it.”
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SOME MISGIVINGS
There a few items in God of War Ragnarök that give me pause. I’ll list the two biggest gripes for me personally because I believe the story suffered greatly from them.
The first is making Atreus the Norse god Loki. This was an odd choice because of how central a character Loki is to Norse mythology. He’s the prime antagonist in many of the myths, often acting as the sole reason Thor or Odin are foiled in whatever aim they have. To make Atreus Loki depleted the mythology of a central component that it desperately needed. All who referenced Atreus by his “giant name” (as Loki) never seemed to recognize him as the famous god of mischief. It was as though the scheming, trickster god never existed, which, from a story standpoint, left much to be desired. If Loki were a separate character and not christened unto a main character, there would be room to maneuver away from Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse pantheon that would keep the player guessing about what came next.
I’m unsure why Loki was used as an alias for a character who didn’t embody anything resembling the antagonistic Norse god other than shapeshifting abilities. This big change made it hard to buy into the mythology of this game’s universe, in my opinion. It’s like the Greek pantheon existing with Zeus—something would feel lacking.
The other serious story problem had to do with how the climax handled the fate of Kratos. God of War Ragnarök HEAVILY foreshadowed throughout its story that Kratos would die. Every major dialogue in the game referenced fate and if there was any choice in the matter. All of this very tense and exciting; I couldn’t wait to see how Kratos would either elude death or sacrifice himself as the tragic figure being set up by the writers and developers.
By the climax of the story, Kratos was willing to go to his demise to give his son a chance at a life without the haunt of his past crimes.
Which meant for 22+ hours of the main storyline, everything was lining up for an epic conclusion to the series.
Except in the climax, NONE of what was foreshadowed came close to happening.
The final fight with Odin was theatrical enough—Kratos and Atreus team up with Freya to finally put a stop to the all-father hellbent on sacrificing the nine realms and his family in a selfish pursuit of power. This was fine. But the fight unfolded like any other in the game—Odin unleashes magic attacks and teleports around, seemingly too powerful of a foe, but eventually he is bested and put to death by Loki spirit magic?
At no point was Kratos in serious peril.
At no point did a decision have to be made by Atreus to save his father or himself (or anyone else for that matter).
Kratos was just as dominant and invincible as always—and it was disappointing. This was Odin he faced! The all-father. The most powerful and cunning of the Norse gods. Certainly, there could have been a situation that called for Kratos to lose.
It never happened. The finale felt like any other Marvel movie: New powers and weapon upgrades led renewed team spirit that led to victory.
Yay. Woo. Huzzah.
In the end, Atreus wakes up in a realm protected from Surtr and his destruction of Asgard. Kratos gives his boy a hug. Atreus goes off on his own, a boy grown up into a man. The world is at peace.
And I watched the screen as credits rolled, unsure of what to make of all this.
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A BIGGER STICK
Why didn’t the ending work? Why didn’t I cheer for Kratos when he prevailed like he always has? Wasn’t that a satisfying conclusion? Kratos is a changed man, a wisened father who learned of self-sacrifice instead of defaulting to the butcher god-killer he he once was. And when faced with the knowledge he might have to die in order to give his son a chance at a better life, he chose to live and save his son—having his cake and eating it, too.
That’s a lovely conclusion for some stories. Just not this one. Why?
It wasn’t earned.
If the story had shown the player that the greatest fighter in the known world could fall to something greater than himself, it would show vulnerability in a way we had never seen with Kratos. What the player received was another final upgrade, another weapon to beat and batter Odin with.
Apparently to beat Ragnarök, you just need a bigger stick than the other gods.
Thematically, Kratos’s sacrifice would have given the story the weight it deserved. In the real world, I’m aware that it makes little sense to kill off Kratos as a character. God of War is one of Sony’s premier IPs; they would never kill off a character when more games could be made. It would be like Nintendo canceling Kirby—why do that?
I should note that I never wanted Kratos to die. It would be tragic, but not necessary in telling the story of the end of the world. What I wanted was for Kratos’s survival to be earned and I think that’s where the story stumbled at the end. The game could never give Kratos an enemy that was too much, or too powerful. The player had to win; as did Kratos in the story.
Perhaps the true lesson of Ragnarök is to witness an unjust ending of the world. In Norse Mythology, no side wins. The final war is a destruction that lays all to waste, even the likes of Odin, Thor, and Loki. Through their death comes rebirth.
But I can’t help but wonder of Kratos: if he is never allowed to die, how can he be reborn? How can his story go on?
How can one be better without knowing what it means to lose?
I’ll have to wait for next Ragnarök to find out, I suppose.
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THE NATURE OF A THING
There’s another line from the game that encompasses exactly how I feel about the totality of it. When Brok, the southern-drawl dwarf cannot bless a new weapon because he is missing a part of his soul, Kratos presents the staff to the dwarf anyway and says, “It is the nature of a thing that matters. Not it’s form.”
Despite conflicting feelings about the story’s conclusion, I cannot deny what a momentous achievement this game was. In terms of lore, gameplay, presentation, pacing, and the character dynamics represented by the gods and secondary characters…it was one of the best games to come along in a long time.
Santa Monica Studios produced one of the best representations of Norse mythology ever made with characters and places that incite more wonderings about the land of Asir gods and what awaits all of us at the end of the world.
And for that, the nature of God of War Ragnarök means far more than the form.
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Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,
