Grand Theft Auto IV isn't all that different from The Wire—each takes a novelistic approach to telling
stories about a naked city. Niko Bellic, the game's tough Eastern European
protagonist, rubs elbows with dozens of well-drawn lowlifes—all painted
with the same gray moral brush. As fresh-off-the-boat Niko, players insinuate
themselves into the sordid lives of dealers and mobsters at their leisure,
dipping in and out of their plots. These thugs, rivals, and allies all have
their own arcs. Some flame out, succumbing to demon blow. Others bloom beyond
caricature as Bellic earns their trust.
But it's how Bellic
interacts with the game's faux New York that grabs gamers by the throat. Cast
all the story, music, and sharp satire aside, and Grand Theft Auto IV is about jacking cars, then shooting, punching, or
running over people that get in your way. At this point in gaming's short life,
it's finally time to ask the question: Is a carjack really a carjack? Could Niko
Bellic's Terminator-style
ruthlessness be an expression of American greed? Or maybe it's simpler than
that. Maybe it just feels good to tear some jerk out of his fancy car or empty
a rocket launcher in the direction of those who would tell you "no." Like the
last seconds of Thelma & Louise or
the blaze of glory at the end of Scarface, such sprees are supreme acts of recklessness and
rebellion. Grand Theft Auto IV is,
simply, the latest way to flip the bird. And damn if such a simple gesture
doesn't feel good.