Thoughts, not a review. Whereas we would typically write a complete review on a game we’ve played, we’ll refrain from doing so if we were unable or unmotivated to complete it. Another scenario might be that the particular genre the game falls into is simply not our cup of tea, but we gave it a go anyhow. This, in effect, lets you know that what follows isn’t an entirely well informed opinion. In fairness to the game, our thoughts are therefore less formal, less definitive than a review which would assume that we’ve judged the game as a whole, not a part, and the genre is one we’re familiar with.

Oblivion is large. Very large. Very very large. Very very ver - you get the point. Or maybe you don’t: this game is a behemoth. Every review that you may have read that tried to impress upon you just how vast this game is, are inadequate to really impressing upon you just how vast this game is. No amount of bolded or italicized adjectives will do the job: you’ll just have to play it yourself.

Size, when it comes to videogames, typically matters. Who wants to drop 80 bucks on a game that you’re going to be through with in a few hours? But there’s a problem with games this big: they tend to lack focus. Oblivion, although very large, lacks focus, and that’s a very large problem.

There’s so much to do in the game, so much to see, so many people to speak to, so many quests to accomplish, that’s it’s more than a tad daunting. Granted, Bethesda did a remarkable job managing all of it: active quests are logged in a menu and, once selected, a more thorough step by step description of the quest and where next to proceed is displayed. It’s a good thing that you’ll never be lost.

I spent close to 60 hours (yes, 60) playing the game, the majority of which I spent on side quests, conveniently laid out in the aforementioned menu system. How does a game, then, handle leveling up? I could theoretically go nuts leveling up in side quests and return to the main quest a super human warrior thus rendering the main quest a breeze. Oblivion addresses this by creating an adaptive gameplay system whereby the difficulty ramps up as the strength of your character does. This may seem clever, but it strips away the very appealing aspect of RPGs whereby you do, in fact, become uber powerful and slay once difficult enemies with barely a flash of an eyelid. In my experience, I never felt as though I was actually getting stronger, I always felt as though I were on the cusp of destruction with any random encounter.

What’s that? A mountain lion? Ok mountain lion, I just spent the last 40 hours slaying demons from hell, prepare to get your furry ass whooped. Ok, now I’m dead. What the fuck?!

As I was saying, there’s a whole lot to do in this game. You can use magic and a plethora of spells, you can repair armour, you can pick locks, you can be a stealth expert, you can be a weapons expert, you can be athletic, you can create potions from a seemingly infinite number of ingredients, you can ride horses, you can become quite the charmer, you can buy and sell goods, you can join clans, you can buy houses, you can read books, you can combine weapons with artifacts, you can charge your weapons with magic, and on and on and on. Many of these aspects of gameplay are governed by their own specific methods of leveling up and, simply, becoming increasingly skillful with them. But with so much to do, each is also underdeveloped, leaving you cold and confused in the process. “A jack of all trades but master of none” has never been more true. Given that there’s so much, I suppose it’s an impossible request to ask a developer to ease you into each of these aspects of gameplay with an idiot proof tutorial. But it certainly would have lead to less frustration. For instance, in my effort to lock pick a door, I would be immediately thrown in jail. How? I figured it out eventually, but not after a good long while. I would also get thrown in jail often after a battle. Why? I only assume it was because during one of the many skirmishes a retard friendly character threw himself directly in front of me, and therefore my sword. But I can’t be sure. See what I mean? It took me a long time to figure things out on my own; it was actually only after about 40 hours of playing that I began to get comfortable with all the many and disparate aspects of what made this game click.

Despite all that, I still played for about 60 hours. While the games’ greatest weakness is its scope, it also happens to be its greatest strength. There is so much to do it seems never ending. The amount of unique side quests is phenomenal. What’s more, every single line of dialogue, of which there are accordingly massive amounts, is fully spoken by the characters. Each town across the massive landscape is full of characters, all going about their daily business. Scattered across the land are points of interest, caves, oblivion gates, more individuals of various races and affiliations, and so on. Frankly, the sheer scale is mind boggling.

It also helps that Oblivion is a great looking game. Character models, especially, are lifelike and beautifully rendered; since you’ll be spending a lot of time speaking to them, you’ll appreciate that they’re so great looking. The environments are vast (there’s that word again) and subject to a night and day cycle bathing them in bright sunlight, moonlight, or a scarlet sunrise and sunset. Just don’t ride a horse (whoops, there goes the framerate). It’s pretty clear that the world was meant to be strolled through, not galloped through, because as soon as you get on your trusty steed the game stutters and sputters worse than a stroke victim. All things considered, the game feels like it has a life of its own, one that you’ll barely ever scratch the surface of.

Eventually, I gave up. Apparently whilst battling some vampires (yeah, they’re in here too) I contracted vampire-itis (or something like that). Unbeknownst to me, I was slowly becoming a vampire, and each day it got worse; worse to the point that going out into the sun would quickly kill me. How to get out of this dilemma? Go on another side quest. AAAHHHHH! Well, I wouldn’t have minded so much if the quest didn’t rely on quick travel across vast (!) distances which takes too much time; the sun comes up eventually and then it’s panic city (not fun). Regardless, I would recommend the game without pause, just as long as you know what you’re getting into. If nothing else, its scale is a remarkable achievement despite its fair share of flaws.