The Last Broadcast DLC brings to life a victim of war—truth—and what we used to think was a motif used only in black and white war films and far away, despotic kingdoms. But propaganda, censorship of the facts, and painting a story in the color of our party seem to have become contemporary fears. The Last Broadcast is bold enough to ask us what exactly the value of truth is, how many lives is it worth, and does desperation justify its slow death.

In the base game, you’re more worried about self-preservation and the lives of one over another rather than the far-reaching consequences presented in this route. But you’ll still be struggling for that one carrot and enough water to boil it in. Luckily, you’ll get to bypass some of those basic needs in favor of the story. It’s nice getting to start off with some goods and essentials, so there’s no immediate sense of urgency over things like a heater. Even so, it takes about one minute to realize that you’re screwed. We’re still playing the same game, after all, and the writers just wanted to remind you that they’re not here to make it easy on you, emotionally or otherwise.

But the focus is less about surviving and more about finding reasons to go out and endanger yourself beyond just gathering food. It’s now become your emotional livelihood. So don’t for a moment believe that your feels can be stashed away safely for when the raiders come. In fact, you don’t even get an option to board up in this game. So don’t worry; you’re screwed. You also don’t get a radio to keep you happy. You’re responsible for your own happiness now—and that of the whole city. No pressure. Even so, in retrospect, this scenario seemed a little easier than the base game, despite the handicap.

I felt far more connected to the characters in this household than in Father’s Promise—though I think the disconnect in the first was intentional. Despite the side-scrolling view, you do latch on to one particular character in this scenario, and make decisions chiefly from their point of view. It lacks the group dynamic of the base game, but allows for a deeper investment in one character’s feelings and gives more of a Rear Window viewpoint rather than the estranging party management we’re used to. You also have quite a bit more control over the ending than in either the base game or the previous DLC with several different endings available.

The two chief characters are a bit more traditional to storytelling than in the previous versions, but allow for better story being so. Malik is a bit one-dimensional, summed up by one word: obstinate. It’s impossible to make him happy unless you do what he wants—and if he doesn’t get what he wants right now, he whines like a pouty baby. And when you’re running around doing everything to make him happy and keep him safe and fed, it’s kind of hard to like him. He’s easy to relate to, but hard to like, even though you’re supposed to admire and respect him. This is a game mechanic, as depression management is your chief gauge of progress, but unfortunately I think it hurts the story. Esma, however, is wholly likable and relatable. She is one tough mamma, and I’m pretty sure she could take on the whole army with a pick-axe if she wanted to. Her moral dilemmas and relationship with characters are what feed the story, and I think it is beautifully and simply done in a way that’s very natural to relate to and feel responsible for. The characters also talk to each other more, and since they have a pre-determined relationship, they feel far more fleshed-out and realistically connected than is possible in the base game—which then of course leads to the highly emotional denouement of their story.

Your new house is lovey, warm (visually), and interesting. It is also huge, so it’s very slow moving about it in ways that are both tedious and restricting. As always, the game requires some patience and acceptance of disappointments. The new environments however are all visually engaging and less generic than in the base game. They look quite a bit less like a dollhouse and more like a carefully crafted environment with gripping atmosphere and mood. Unfortunately, they nor the characters transfer to the base game. In fact, there is nothing added to the base game, so if you are hoping for new content beyond the story, you will be disappointed.

The story ups the ante a bit since you are no longer responsible for a single household, but now you have all of Pogoren depending on you. And rather than a sick child clinging to your leg, you now have to nurture, shelter, and feed something as fragile as truth in a world at your throat. Unlike the base game where every character is a nobody, this story requires champions of uncommon bravery to advance it to the best ending, creating something of a predictable conclusion but predictable in the spirit of a 1940’s war-noir sort of way. We know the ending, but I was still satisfied with the poetics of it: not quite as hopeless, not quite as depressing as the first, but certainly more disturbing.

True to the mission of This War of Mine, this is a conscience-driven drama. But I did notice in the achievements that less than “0%” of the community has gotten the “bad” route, which isn’t surprising since, unlike in the base game where self-preservation is a legitimate decision, you do get a bit of a slap on the wrist if you decide to look out for yourself in this story.

It took me 32 days to complete my first run which could have gone faster, but I wandered around needlessly looking for a certain component (it helps to pay attention). My second run was 22 days, so you can progress quite quickly, but you cannot skip through dialogue and cutscenes, so replayability is low.

I appreciate the disheartening but potent message that This War of Mine provides. I think they have taken it a step farther in The Last Broadcast so that it feels a little didactic, but it absolutely succeeds in helping the audience understand and feel the life-and-death dilemma that those responsible for broadcasting the news in war must face. I believe it does a beautiful job of championing the people that risk their lives to defend justice—without superpowers or swords—in a believable setting because it is real and it is current. It certainly made me ask, if we truly believe we are obstinate enough to defend the truth when lives are the cost, how does one justify burying the truth or fabricating facts when something as trivial as political pride is at stake? We quickly reproach soldiers and regimes that are without accountability; so how do we so easily forgive news without accountability when it runs rampant in our modern media?

The Last Broadcast DLC brings to life a victim of war—truth—and what we used to think was a motif used only in black and white war films and far away, despotic kingdoms. But propaganda, censorship of the facts, and painting a story in the color of our party seem to have become contemporary fears. The Last Broadcast is bold enough to ask us what exactly the value of truth is, how many lives is it worth, and does desperation justify its slow death. [h1]Gameplay[/h1] In the base game, you’re more worried about self-preservation and the lives of one over another rather than the far-reaching consequences presented in this route. But you’ll still be struggling for that one carrot and enough water to boil it in. Luckily, you’ll get to bypass some of those basic needs in favor of the story. It’s nice getting to start off with some goods and essentials, so there’s no immediate sense of urgency over things like a heater. Even so, it takes about one minute to realize that you’re screwed. We’re still playing the same game, after all, and the writers just wanted to remind you that they’re not here to make it easy on you, emotionally or otherwise. But the focus is less about surviving and more about finding reasons to go out and endanger yourself beyond just gathering food. It’s now become your emotional livelihood. So don’t for a moment believe that your feels can be stashed away safely for when the raiders come. In fact, you don’t even get an option to board up in this game. So don’t worry; you’re screwed. You also don’t get a radio to keep you happy. You’re responsible for your own happiness now—and that of the whole city. No pressure. Even so, in retrospect, this scenario seemed a little easier than the base game, despite the handicap. [h1]Characters[/h1] I felt far more connected to the characters in this household than in Father’s Promise—though I think the disconnect in the first was intentional. Despite the side-scrolling view, you do latch on to one particular character in this scenario, and make decisions chiefly from their point of view. It lacks the group dynamic of the base game, but allows for a deeper investment in one character’s feelings and gives more of a Rear Window viewpoint rather than the estranging party management we’re used to. You also have quite a bit more control over the ending than in either the base game or the previous DLC with several different endings available. The two chief characters are a bit more traditional to storytelling than in the previous versions, but allow for better story being so. Malik is a bit one-dimensional, summed up by one word: obstinate. It’s impossible to make him happy unless you do what he wants—and if he doesn’t get what he wants right now, he whines like a pouty baby. And when you’re running around doing everything to make him happy and keep him safe and fed, it’s kind of hard to like him. He’s easy to relate to, but hard to like, even though you’re supposed to admire and respect him. This is a game mechanic, as depression management is your chief gauge of progress, but unfortunately I think it hurts the story. Esma, however, is wholly likable and relatable. She is one tough mamma, and I’m pretty sure she could take on the whole army with a pick-axe if she wanted to. Her moral dilemmas and relationship with characters are what feed the story, and I think it is beautifully and simply done in a way that’s very natural to relate to and feel responsible for. The characters also talk to each other more, and since they have a pre-determined relationship, they feel far more fleshed-out and realistically connected than is possible in the base game—which then of course leads to the highly emotional denouement of their story. [h1]Locations[/h1] Your new house is lovey, warm (visually), and interesting. It is also huge, so it’s very slow moving about it in ways that are both tedious and restricting. As always, the game requires some patience and acceptance of disappointments. The new environments however are all visually engaging and less generic than in the base game. They look quite a bit less like a dollhouse and more like a carefully crafted environment with gripping atmosphere and mood. Unfortunately, they nor the characters transfer to the base game. In fact, there is nothing added to the base game, so if you are hoping for new content beyond the story, you will be disappointed. [h1]Story[/h1] The story ups the ante a bit since you are no longer responsible for a single household, but now you have all of Pogoren depending on you. And rather than a sick child clinging to your leg, you now have to nurture, shelter, and feed something as fragile as truth in a world at your throat. Unlike the base game where every character is a nobody, this story requires champions of uncommon bravery to advance it to the best ending, creating something of a predictable conclusion but predictable in the spirit of a 1940’s war-noir sort of way. We know the ending, but I was still satisfied with the poetics of it: not quite as hopeless, not quite as depressing as the first, but certainly more disturbing. True to the mission of This War of Mine, this is a conscience-driven drama. But I did notice in the achievements that less than “0%” of the community has gotten the “bad” route, which isn’t surprising since, unlike in the base game where self-preservation is a legitimate decision, you do get a bit of a slap on the wrist if you decide to look out for yourself in this story. It took me 32 days to complete my first run which could have gone faster, but I wandered around needlessly looking for a certain component (it helps to pay attention). My second run was 22 days, so you can progress quite quickly, but you cannot skip through dialogue and cutscenes, so replayability is low. [h1]Recommendation[/h1] I appreciate the disheartening but potent message that This War of Mine provides. I think they have taken it a step farther in The Last Broadcast so that it feels a little didactic, but it absolutely succeeds in helping the audience understand and feel the life-and-death dilemma that those responsible for broadcasting the news in war must face. I believe it does a beautiful job of championing the people that risk their lives to defend justice—without superpowers or swords—in a believable setting because it is real and it is current. It certainly made me ask, if we truly believe we are obstinate enough to defend the truth when lives are the cost, how does one justify burying the truth or fabricating facts when something as trivial as political pride is at stake? We quickly reproach soldiers and regimes that are without accountability; so how do we so easily forgive news without accountability when it runs rampant in our modern media?