Summary
Not every game needs to take place in a sandbox the size of a small country. Some thrive in tight corridors, others in scripted sequences that know exactly when to drop jaws. But during the golden rush to go open-world, a few titles stretched themselves a little too thin, creating settings that didn’t need to be as big as they were.
Whether it was because of empty maps, repetitive side content, or just the sheer loss of pacing, these six games might have shined brighter if they’d ditchedthe open-worldblueprint and stuck to something more focused. They didn’t need 60 hours — they needed a strong 10.
There’s a version ofL.A. Noirethat lives inside a perfect noir film: moody streets, jazz humming under every line of dialogue, and hard-boiled detectives solving crimes with nothing but a notebook and a scowl. But what players got was a game where, in between gripping interrogations and gorgeously acted cutscenes, they had to drive through blocks of 1940s Los Angeles traffic…for no good reason.
The open world here looks fantastic, thanks topainstaking historical detail, but it doesn’t do anything. There are almost no side missions worth pursuing, no organic discoveries, and nothing to interact with besides landmarks. Worse, the driving often slows the game’s pacing to a crawl — especially when players are just trying to get to the next murder case. And let’s not even talk about the overlong car chases that somehow happen every five minutes. HadL.A. Noirefocused on being a detective thriller with a chapter-by-chapter structure, like a playable HBO miniseries, it might have become a timeless classic.
WhenDynasty Warriors 9tried to bring the Three Kingdoms into open-world territory, it traded in its soul for a sea of grass. The classic formula —over-the-top actionwith hundreds of enemies flying into the air from a single sword swing — didn’t need to roam. It needed tight, curated chaos. Instead, the open world feels like a never-ending escort mission with no one to escort.
Missions are scattered awkwardly across a giant map, and most of them involve either running for several minutes to find a small group of enemies or watching generic soldiers stand around. Gone are the iconic set-piece battles that made older titles so satisfying. Even capturing bases feels more like checking boxes than commanding armies. When crafting, fishing, and gathering herbs feel more important than the Battle of Red Cliffs, something has gone seriously wrong.
Mirror’s Edge: Catalysthad the right idea: let players parkour across a pristine, glassy city and feel the adrenaline offirst-personmovement. But opening that up into a full, Ubisoft-style open world made it lose its rhythm. Suddenly, instead of tightly choreographed runs with purposeful design, players were stuck navigating oddly-placed rooftops while tracking dozens of optional time trials and collectibles that weren’t all that fun to begin with.
The city itself, while sleek and well-lit, lacks meaningful interaction. It’s a world full of routes, but with no reason to go anywhere in particular. The originalMirror’s Edgenailed the sense of momentum and urgency because everything was handcrafted to push the player forward. ButCatalystlets that flow get tangled up in GPS markers, awkward enemy placements, and fetch quests that break immersion instead of building it. In a more linear game, Faith’s story and movement could have hit much harder — and much faster.
By the timeThe Phantom Painrolled around, theMetal Gearseries had already mastered linear design. So turning Snake’s stealth ops into an open-world sandbox was a bold pivot — and one that came at a steep cost. While the core gameplay is some of the beststealth action ever made, it ends up getting diluted across two massive maps that are, frankly, kind of empty.
Sure, players can approach missions however they want, which leads to some brilliant emergent moments. But between the repetitive side-ops, recycled outposts, and the fact that most of the story’s emotional punch is crammed into cassette tapes, the whole thing feels strangely disjointed. Worse, critical story content was cut due to development issues, leaving behind an unfinished second half that peters out rather than escalates.The Phantom Painis a mechanical masterpiece trapped in a format that spreads its genius too thin to stick.
Lincoln Clay’s story deserved better. Set in a beautifully rendered New Bordeaux (a fictionalized New Orleans),Mafia 3had one of thestrongest narrative setups in any crime game. But the decision to go open-world turned what could have been a tight revenge story into a repetitive slog of taking down rackets, one dull district at a time.
The missions blur together after a while: drive here, interrogate that guy, break some stuff, move on. And while the setting is rich in atmosphere, with great music and racial tension that actually gets addressed, the open-world elements feel tacked on. UnlikeMafia 2, which knew how to use its world as ambiance,Mafia 3tries to gamify everything and ends up undercutting its own pacing. This could have been a lean, gritty crime drama, but instead it’s a bloated checklist that keeps getting in its own way.
Players waited years to step back into Master Chief’s boots, but whenHalo Infinitefinally dropped, it brought along agiant open-worldring that mostly felt hollow. The moment-to-moment combat is still excellent — Grappleshotting into a Brute never gets old — but the surrounding world lacks the narrative drive and mission variety that once madeHalolegendary.
Instead of linear levels that crescendoed with smart design and iconic music cues, players are tasked with liberating identical FOBs, hunting high-value targets, and checking off side activities that feel more like busywork than actual content. Story missions are still solid, but they’re awkwardly spaced apart by large stretches of nothing. And for a series known for its grandiose set-pieces (thinkHalo 3’s Ark orHalo: Reach’s final stand), it’s a shame thatInfinitetries to fill its downtime with filler. A more focused, mission-driven structure could have turnedInfiniteinto a true return to form.