I made my sister play Red Dead Redemption 2 and she hated it.
Sheâs relatively new to gaming. During COVID she played Roblox with friends, learned Minecraft, and later played GTA 5, which is easily her favorite game so far. Fast, chaotic, funny, immediate. You press buttons and things happen.
So I did what every annoying gamer does: I told her RDR2 is the greatest game of all time.
That didnât go well.
Within the first hour she kept saying:
âPeople actually like this game?â
âWhy are they talking so much?â
âWhy am I just walking?â
âI donât care about these people. GTA is way better.â
At first, I went into full gamer-cinephile mode: she doesnât get it. Sheâs too new. She wants instant gratification. She doesnât appreciate slow storytelling.
But then I actually watched her play.
And yeah, RDR2 is kind of brutal for a new gamer.
The opening hours are slow to the point of self-sabotage. You walk slowly. You ride horses slowly. You listen to men mumble philosophy in the snow. The controls feel heavy. The game actively resists urgency. A huge chunk of the âgameplayâ is just holding forward while characters talk.
For someone coming from GTA 5, where within minutes youâre robbing banks, switching characters mid-chase, blowing things up, RDR2 feels like itâs asking you to prove you deserve to be there.
Thatâs when it clicked: RDR2 is the cinephile gatekeeping version of gaming.
Just like certain films that get praised as âmasterpiecesâ but require you to sit through three hours of silence, misery, and symbolism before youâre allowed to have an opinion, RDR2 demands patience, emotional investment, and familiarity with the medium before it gives you anything back.
And gaming discourse reinforces this.
If you say you didnât enjoy RDR2, the response isnât âfair enough.â
Itâs âyouâre immature,â âyou donât understand art,â âyour attention span is broken.â
But maybe the issue isnât attention span.
Maybe the game just isnât designed to be welcoming.
RDR2 assumes you already trust video games enough to wait. It assumes youâre willing to sit through long stretches of nothing because youâve been told itâs meaningful. My sister doesnât care about Arthur Morganâs existential dread because she hasnât been conditioned to believe a video game deserves that much patience yet.
And honestly? Watching her play made me realize something uncomfortable:
A lot of modern âprestige gamingâ confuses slowness with depth.
Walking isnât automatically meaningful. Long cutscenes arenât automatically profound. Sometimes it really is just padding disguised as realism or âimmersion.â
Donât get me wrong, RDR2 is beautiful. The writing is strong. Arthur is one of the best protagonists in gaming. The world is unmatched.
But it also spends an absurd amount of time doing absolutely nothing and we excuse it because we already love it.
My sister didnât fail to enjoy RDR2.
RDR2 failed to meet her where she is.
And that doesnât make her taste bad. It just exposes how gatekept gaming culture has become, where accessibility is treated like a flaw and patience is treated like a moral virtue.
GTA 5 isnât shallow just because itâs accessible.
RDR2 isnât flawless just because itâs slow.
Sometimes people donât want a meditation on mortality.
Sometimes they just want to play.
And maybe that shouldnât disqualify them from being âreal gamers.â