With the imminent release of Grand Theft Auto 6, I decided it was time to revisit what was probably the biggest game of my childhood: Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. In 2005, GTA: San Andreas was one of the first four games I bought for the PlayStation 2, alongside Final Fantasy X, Kingdom Hearts, and Devil May Cry 3. Since I can no longer enjoy that version of the game I played so many times as a kid, I picked up the Grand Theft Auto: The Trilogy — Definitive Edition, which includes San Andreas, on Steam and booted up the game.
Also there was no way I was playing GTA: San Andreas on a controller. Not with those controls.
It’s been 22 years since San Andreas was released. Back then, this game not only seemed like a technological revolution, with its gigantic map and endless list of things you could do, but also presented what felt like an urban epic. We follow a street gang member named Carl “CJ” Johnson, and man, I still feel as if I know him like a childhood friend. He goes back to his hometown to learn more about his mother’s death, just to find his friends from his old gang Grove Street Families trying to survive a gang war. The game begins with him being throw out of a police car after a quick demonstration of systemic violence. To go to his old neighborhood, he grabs a nearby bike. The moment I got on the bike during the opening sequence and rode into Grove Street I was my 14-year-old self again — a more tired version of it, sure, but one that’s still earning respect and kicking ass in style. Hell yeah!
But riding that bike also reminded me how roughly controlled Rockstar Games used to be. Turning the bike feels like I’m trying to drive a truck, and running around with CJ while trying to aim drove me mad more often than not as the digital avatar insisted on abruptly changing direction. Sure, playing San Andreas after witnessing how much game development and technology in general evolved over the past two decades requires some concessions, but oh my god, returning to a 22-year-old Grand Theft Auto game really puts it into perspective.
This contrast of loving the exploration and the characters while hating the controls came to a head in one mission: the “OG Loc” mission.“OG Loc” is one of the Big Smoke’s missions, in which he, Sweet, and CJ go to the police station to pick up Jeffrey, an old friend of theirs. In his endless search to enter the gangster life, Jeffrey assumed a new identity, “OG Loc,” and started committing small crimes, which led him to be arrested. When in jail, Jeffrey is sexually assaulted by another inmate who, according to him, stole his rhymes.
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Through Jeffrey, GTA: San Andreas discusses the fetishization of the crime life and the ethics that envelop those who are part of it. Jeffrey had always wanted to belong to the universe that his friends from Grove Street are part of, looking for the status and power that being a gangster would bring him. It only takes a few seconds after you see Jeffrey for the first time to understand that his gangster persona is a forced performance of what he thinks a “real” one does.
As his friends, CJ, Big Smoke, and Sweet don’t scold Jeffrey for his attitudes and choices, but they see him as a naive boy — a “fool,” like Sweet calls him more than once. After all, although the life of each of these people and the reasons that took them to become criminals are different, there’s a consensus that if one has the option to not get involved with crimes, they shouldn’t. Jeffrey had the chance of going to college (Big Smoke provokes him by saying, “Hey Jeffrey, I thought you was going to, uh, college”), but instead he’s playing to be a bad boy.
“OG Loc” tells a fascinating story that really made me understand even more why this game resonates so much with me and many others in Brazil (where I live). I don’t think I would have been able to read and enjoy its writing as much as I did when I played the game 22 years ago for many reasons. Yet, I also don’t think I was ready to feel so miserable playing this game as I tried to chase and kill OC Loc’s abuser, Freddy.
After picking Jeffrey up, the mission takes you to Freddy’s house. Jeffrey’s old prison buddy mocks him saying that “it was just a prison thing,” and runs away on a motorcycle. Jeffrey says “I gotta protect my rep!” as he asks CJ to help him out on the pursuit using another bike. Freddy never stole his rhymes, but by assaulting Jeffrey, he robbed his dignity, which Jeffrey tries to recover through violent revenge. The ethical values of these characters are at play here, but what follows is one of the most annoying chasing sequences I have ever played.
Freddy drives through alleys, and, as I tried to keep up with him, I would repeatedly hit the walls of nearby buildings, making both CJ and OC Loc fly away. Getting the motorcycle standing and starting riding again took forever. When I finally prevailed in my clash with the alleys, I had to handle the game’s stiff driving commands. Performing U-turns to follow Freddy felt like I was in a boss fight, having to calculate the speed and angle of every single action. Every time I would fall from the bike or spend precious seconds maneuvering the bike to enter the correct street, I smashed my controller’s buttons, trying with no success to speed up the process as I screamed in my mind, “Faster!! Freddy is escaping, and I don’t want to start this mission again for the fifth time!!!”
GTA: San Andreas is a classic that left its mark on gaming history in many ways, and I’m curious to see how GTA 6 and its desire for realism stand against Grove Street’s groove. The stories and characters of GTA: San Andreas will never lose their weight and depth, but I doubt I will keep driving around San Andreas for too long.