At the start, Jason can't face killing, but 10 minutes in the player's hands and he's a consummate murderer. Once you rack up your first 20 bodies, Jason's transformation from boy to man has come full-circle and there's not much left for him to do. That leaves a lot of narrative slack, which the rest of Far Cry 3 doesn't pick up. (...)
There are still standout moments. Jason's deteriorating relationship with his friends feels familiar, and the hallucination sequences which psychedelically dredge up his past are superb. In short though, the writing in Far Cry 3 feels uncertain and gutless, like it's stepping around too many toes. It makes cursory attacks on computer game conventions, capitalism and youth culture, but they feel obvious and teenage rather than truly biting. The whole script needs more punch; the writing clearly has subversive ambitions, but they're not the best suited to a big shooter franchise like Far Cry 3 which at the end of the day, aims to be a crowd-pleaser. (...)
The exact same can be said for the game's script, which has highfalutin ideas but no concrete sense of how to transmit them. It's angry at...something, but not sure what, like a first-year student who's read the preface of a few social science textbooks. Far Cry 3's literature feels uncoordinated and scattergun, never coming together and managing little except a few snarky, ill-informed remarks.