Worse is when collectibles actually start to affect story content rather than merely distract from it. Hidden throughout are Voxophones, small voice memos containing spoken-word monologues by the citizens of Columbia. Voxophones allow for a greater degree of narrative exploration by discussing incidental details about living in Columbia too minute to fit comfortably into the critical path. Many Voxophones add to the main storyline in ways only hinted at during the main campaign, making the act of collecting each and every one of them critical to understanding the full scope of BioShock Infinite's tale. Unfortunately, most of the Voxophones are hidden in areas well off the beaten path, and searching for them slows the game's momentum tremendously. During my playthrough, it got to such a point that I stopped buying into Columbia as an actual place, along with Booker and Elizabeth's development as characters, in favor of scouring the environment to suss out minor side details about the world, the ultimate in forest-for-the-trees irony.
Not that collectibles are always detrimental to world-building, mind. Burnout Paradise featured no less than three kinds of collectibles strewn about its open world of Paradise City. Though not tied to progression, players could track down every Billboard, Smash Gate, and Super Jump in order to unlock special cars. Banjo-Kazooie featured three different mission-critical collectibles, in addition to the many self-improvement based ones like enhanced health and ammunition. In both instances, collectibles emphasized the game-y parts of either title, and enhanced their carefully constructed open worlds with playground sensibilities, whether it was a bustling city or cartoon desert. Neither of those games attempted anything in the way of deep or emotional storytelling, and instead of sidetracking the main narrative, collecting every hidden doodad became part of the fun, rather than a distraction from the main event.
One of the few anomalies to feature extensive world-building, a tightly-wound story, and a whole host of collectible goodies is Batman: Arkham Asylum. Batman's plot-heavy clash against The Joker is one of the primary reasons to play the game, and Rocksteady's phenomenal work on making the titular Asylum a tangible location helps ground the drama, as Batman struggles to make it through one of the worst nights of his career. However, stashed throughout the island are literally hundreds of collectible trophies, all hidden by The Riddler as a challenge for the Caped Crusader. Surprisingly, the trophies don't detract from Arkham's believability as a locale or Batman's predicament of escaping Arkham Asylum. This can be explained in two strokes. In the first place, the collectibles are introduced within the context of the Batman lore: The Riddler is a character who always wants to be the smartest guy in the room, and though it's a longshot to buy that he has spent his entire time at Arkham hording little green trophies away like some supervillainous magpie on the off-chance that Batman would end up stranded there for an evening, it's not entirely out of the question—this is based on a comic book, after all. In the second, The Riddler's trophies function more as a gameplay enhancement, granting XP bonuses and unlocking extra features like concept art, rather than a gameplay necessity; it's possible to satisfactorily complete the entire game without finding so much as a handful of them. Tracking down The Riddler's trophies can only benefit the player, and ignoring them in favor of furthering the main storyline never feels punishing.
This is perhaps the best way to handle collectibles in any game with a primary focus on storytelling. Giving collectibles a gameplay function, rather than a narrative function, goes along with their inherently game-y design, rather than trying to cross-pollinate into storytelling territory, where the two elements often work against each other's appeal. Discovering a cache of powerful weapons or an item that makes progression easier feels much more rewarding and relevant to gameplay than finding a short splotch of exposition.
Then again, perhaps story-driven games should stay away from collectibles altogether. No more seeking out inconveniently-placed feathers or laptops full of enemy intel. Leave gathering hidden tchotchkes to games that place less importance on telling a story and more of an emphasis of providing a place to play. There are better ways to involve players in a massive game world than to challenge them to see how many coffee thermoses they can find.
Andrew Testerman is a writer from Bozeman, Mont. who once caught all 150 Pokémon. Contact him at andrew.testerman@outlook.com and follow him on Twitter at @iamaparade.
