There are signs of “real” life-a deputy mayor, an administrator, public health and birth records-juxtaposed with a magic lamp and an omniscient talking mirror. “Faith”’s strongest scene occurs in a library, where routine bureaucracy comes face-to-face with fairytale magical fantasy. It’s embarrassing.”Ĭolin is decrying Bigby’s chest-thumping, but it’s a nice reminder that the characters in Fabletown have pre-conceived notions about Bigby, that those notions can change based on player input, and the this is primarily a game about exploring relationships in a fairytale society. These technical problems are a black spot on an otherwise gorgeous game, especially since it depends on smart camera work and pacing to sustain its story.Įarly in this episode, Sheriff Bigby explains to Colin that he keeps the peace in Fabletown “by being big, and being bad.” It’s on the nose, but Colin’s response cuts to the heart of The Wolf Among Us: “Don’t say that shit in front of people. Stuttering frame rates and delayed inputs make for shambolic action scenes and disrupted cinematics, and The Wolf Among Us suffers from general instability and locks up often. Unfortunately, performance problems on older devices like the iPad 2 crop up with regularity. That said, the choices players make over the course of The Wolf Among Us-some small, some large-form the game’s backbone, and every interaction seems to tie into Telltale’s narrative Rubik’s Cube. Collecting evidence may unlock new dialog options, but its main purpose is to deepen the game’s mystery and to force Bigby to make decisions. In other words, this is a narrative experience, and the game’s whodunit is a plot device, not a game mechanic. Bigby does those things in The Wolf Among Us, too, but they don’t culminate in some solved puzzle as much as they change the tone and texture of Bigby’s relationships with other characters. Bigby’s melodrama aside, The Wolf Among Us would still be interesting as a political parable, and if there’s one criticism, it’s that Telltale keeps the reigns too tight and doesn’t offer enough chances to poke at the seams of Fabletown.Īdventure games usually handle cop stories well: You talk to people, gather clues, and make connections. They have an ear for dialogue and a genuine knack for plotting and pacing, but the promise of exploring more of the beautifully realized Fabletown is compelling too. Still, Telltale are remarkably efficient alchemists when it comes to Willingham’s setting. The racism and classism that undergird the world of Fables are both sadder and more desperate than the blood and broken bones Telltale chooses to highlight first. The game draws its tension and mood from Fabletown’s deep violets and navy blues, from a dusky soundtrack, from punchy voice-acting. The bloody posturing is unnecessary, as the The Wolf Among Us has enough grit and texture to stand on its own without drawn-out fight scenes or swear words. The overwhelmingly grisly murder that sets the game in motion only reinforces that idea. The violence in this introduction stands out as a way to overcompensate for The Wolf Among Us’ inherent silliness, to convince us that it’s brutal and dark. Fables’ premise-that fairytale characters have come to live in the real-world Bronx-isn’t uncommon: The 10th Kingdom and Neil Gaiman’s American Gods both predate Willingham, and contemporary shows like Once Upon A Time and Sleepy Hollow continue the unevenly handled tradition. That’s a hell of a first impression for the series, adapted from Bill Willingham’s Fables franchise. Apparent cause of death is an axe handle through the eye socket, but I’m no doctor. The second thing, at least for me, was that he gets beaten to death (twice). The first thing that happens in Telltale Games’ The Wolf Among Us (Free) is that Sheriff Bigby Wolf talks to a toad in a cardigan.

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