Red Dead Redemption 2 launched seven years ago this month, and it’s still Rockstar’s most successful satire. Sure, Rockstar hasn’t done anything new since 2018, so it’s not like Red Dead has any fresh competition. But with Grand Theft Auto 6 just over the horizon, I’m reminded just how well Red Dead 2 handles its critiques of American society. It has something to say about the emptiness of American ideals and how dangerous they can be in the hands of the wrong people, and it’s not afraid to say it.
It’s true that the GTA series dances around similar ideas, but it never ends up doing much with them. Yes, Franklin realizes the trajectory of his current life in GTA 5 is untenable and runs up against the challenges of making something of yourself under capitalism. The struggles of poverty and the hollowness of the American way of life have been the subject of cinema and literature for more than a century, though. The way GTA handles them is hardly new or especially deep, and what it does say tends to get lost in the crime drama that takes greater precedence anyway.
Technically, the things Red Dead 2 says aren’t that innovative either, but Rockstar built the entire game around it instead of making it a mildly humorous afterthought. Folks moved west (in Red Dead and real life) in the hopes of finding a land of opportunity. The American government and bad-faith actors spent decades in the 19th century telling people that they could recreate America the way it should be if they moved out west. It was a chance to escape the corruption of the cities and the moneyed classes and for pure democracy to spring forth from land tilled by hardworking (white) landowners. That didn’t happen.
What they find instead (in real life and in Red Dead) is a life that’s neither good or bad, one thing or the other. They find a life that’s pretty much the same as the one they (or their families) left behind. Some of Red Dead 2 protagonist Arthur Morgan’s comrades are shitty people, some aren’t. Arthur does shitty things to get by sometimes, and sometimes he’s a pretty decent guy. There’s a lot you can dig into about how well Red Dead 2 portrays moral grey zones, but the point is that everyone here had hoped for more than just doing the best they could. They’re doing these things because the restrictive, exploitative social and political systems gave them no good choices. Yes, racism and disenfranchisement meant others had it far worse, and we see glimpses of that in Red Dead 2, too.
The frontier is closed, and with it goes the dream of opportunity. The west is becoming “civilized,” and still no one’s found the promised land. Dutch van der Linde, champion of individualism, democracy, and All Things American, says he can fix it and that his way leads to a different future. It’s just a different version of the same old patriotic lie, but given the alternative options — impoverished farming, impoverished factory labor — no wonder Arthur and the rest fall under his spell and become his not-so-merry band of outlaws.
Even if Dutch’s gang is a crappy community, it’s at least somewhere to belong. And hey, you might end up some place better one day. Meanwhile, you’re owning the rich where you can and standing up for yourself — or so you think. The problem no one addresses until it’s far too late is that behind Dutch’s slick words and grand promises is nothing but self-serving egoism. (And even if they had addressed it, what good would it do? They’d just be cast out.)
By the end of Red Dead 2, Dutch’s plans have come to naught. Everything’s collapsing around you, and all of Arthur’s efforts were completely fruitless. There will be no brighter tomorrow. There are larger reasons why this group and others like them suffer, of course. But the immediate cause, the one thing behind the ruin that is the end of Red Dead 2? They believed the honeyed words of a charismatic liar who promised them the American Dream. A man who said idolizing a set of cherished American values would bring about a new age, that this group had your best interests at heart and the other would only bring ruination, that if you just believe and follow, you’ll have a better life, no matter who has to suffer for it along the way.
If that sounds familiar, that’s the point. Red Dead 2‘s satire is timeless, a smoldering, slow-burn attack on powerful people who weaponize rhetoric for their own ends, and an enduring critique of the rhetoric itself. Arthur’s tale is a tragic western epic, sure. It’s also a reminder to think about the truth of what you’re being promised — and how it benefits the person making that promise.
