Playing Red Dead Redemption again on the Nintendo Switch 2 has given me the ideal chance to reflect on all the things it excels at. Its open world is sparse but engrossing and worth exploring. It features a memorable core group of outlaws and oddballs that are classic Rockstar. John Marston is just as compelling as always, particularly after experiencing the 2018 prequel. Even 15 years later, Red Dead stands the test of time impressively and still serves as a marker of Rockstar’s rise to the pinnacle of the gaming industry.
Yet what strikes me most during this latest playthrough is how thoughtfully crafted and genuine Red Dead Redemption feels—especially when contrasted with the developer’s other major hit series. With Grand Theft Auto 6 less than a year away, replaying Red Dead makes me optimistic that Rockstar will draw inspiration from its 2010 masterpiece rather than the inconsistent track record of the GTA franchise.
One of Red Dead Redemption’s strongest assets is its unconventional setting. Unlike many Westerns that are set at the peak of the wild west era in the 1800s, Red Dead is set squarely at its conclusion. The game starts in 1911, an era when the U.S. government was cementing its authority over Western states in the wake of rapid expansion post-Civil War. Marston, a former outlaw who’s turned over a new leaf (thanks to Arthur Morgan from Red Dead Redemption 2), is coerced into atoning for his past by tracking down his former gang members—who are in hiding—for the U.S. government. If he succeeds, the government will return his wife, son, and home to him, allowing him to live out the remainder of his days in peace.
The initial four hours of Red Dead are quite understated. You perform routine chores on a farm for a woman who rescued you. You assist the local town’s sheriff in rounding up lawbreakers. And from time to time, you help out some of the shrewd characters in the area who might have key details about the first target you’re supposed to track down.
But what makes this gradual opening so engaging is the game’s writing and direction. Marston’s early interactions have a warm, thoughtful quality to them. There are long pauses between characters— the sort that I think were prevalent before screens and radio filled every quiet moment. Even when characters clash, it’s not about crass jokes designed to get a laugh out of the player. Instead, it’s about nuanced conversational elements, where one person tries to assert dominance or share their knowledge over the other. These intangible touches are what make Red Dead’s characters like Bonnie McFarland, Leigh Johnson, and Abigail Marston so unforgettable.
Great writing in games isn’t a new thing. If you look back at the golden era of PC gaming in the mid-to-late 1990s, you’ll see that games like Deus Ex, the Fallout series, and the legendary LucasArts adventure titles set the standard for the medium long before their more visually advanced successors received widespread acclaim. So when I compliment Red Dead’s writing, I’m not comparing it to other games in general—rather, I’m comparing it to Rockstar’s other works.
For every standout story moment in older Grand Theft Auto games, there are roughly a dozen that make me cringe to play in front of others. This isn’t just because they’re products of their era—even the most recent GTA game (released three years after Red Dead Redemption) is full of unfunny gags, repeated rants you’ve heard countless times from the most obnoxious men you know, and lewd innuendos that would feel over-the-top even to a teenage boy. GTA has never been consistently good at satire; it was just the largest, most entertaining game that bothered to attempt this type of humor at all.
Playing Red Dead Redemption, though, reveals a different side of Rockstar. It demonstrates that they can craft dialogue that isn’t annoying. They can build a world without constantly winking at the player or forcing in clumsy, shallow commentary on society. The original Red Dead has a genuineness that’s desperately lacking in every GTA game. I’m glad that this sincerity carried over to its 2018 sequel—a game that rightfully earns all its praise for blending a fantastic story with deeply well-crafted characters.
For me, replaying Red Dead Redemption confirms that the biggest flaw plaguing Rockstar’s most popular franchise is a deliberate choice—and it’s been that way for at least 15 years. I can only hope that during the lengthy, turbulent development of Grand Theft Auto 6, Rockstar looks to its Western classic as a model rather than its wildly successful but dated GTA predecessors.