This year had two games on my mind.
I recently played Sayonara and Lorelei & the Laser Eyes. Both games developed by one of my favorite indie developers Simogo. And after a quick google rabbit hole, I realized they also developed a old favorite horror title of mine. That began a series of coincidences that compelled me to make this double bill.
Year Walk was originally a mobile game I played during the hey day of the IOS store. It was one of the first games that showed me the potential narratives video games can explore with something as simple as a touchscreen of a smart phone. Little did I know that potential would have to migrate to Steam as the mobile market would turn into a Mad Max wasteland of shovel ware, scams, and productivity apps. It shares a similar space in my mind as another indie title, and one that's likely more familiar. Of course, I am talking about Limbo. And to add onto the coincidences, it was free on Epic earlier this year. The Game Grumps did a play through of it. This year is the 15th anniversary of Limbo's release. And as we enter a new era of indie game development, Ive seen a lot of discourse reflecting on how far we've come, and you can't talk about the roots of indie gaming without bringing up Limbo.
So, you have two indie horror games that in my mind represent firsts in their respective genres. And in this retrospect, I will simply revisit them to see how they hold up. Can their innovations hold up against the passage of time? Are they still effective games?
Minimalism 101
Any art form will at some point try their hand at the concept of "perfection through subtraction."
I love minimalism. I like taking storytelling to its bare essentials while still making it incredibly sustaining. And in the world of video games, where the standard practice is littering your games with unnecessary mechanics, feature creep, and interface gooeys, minimalism can be a breath of fresh air when done correctly. I emphasize "done correctly," because there is more to minimalism than just doing the bare minimum. It's taking the bare minimum and doing the absolute maximum with it. That's what separates these games from something like Gris.
There is ironically a wide array of approaching minimalism, and that's indicated by these two and how they approach their respective styles.
Limbo is what I imagine most people traditionally envision minimalism. Limbo, down to its core elements, is just two buttons, a physics system, and a distinct art style. It helps that this game is a cinematic platformer which has a long history of minimalism. Another World and the original Prince of Persia are often seen as the pioneers of interactive storytelling. This lead to Ico, another influential game famous for minimalist elements. This is also the second time in a row that I mentioned Ico during these favorite game retrospects, so I guess that's a sign I need to do Ico next, but I digress.
Anyway, being a cinematic platformer yields some advantages. Since cinematic platformers rarely if ever use a health pool, there is no need to show a health bar or other UI gooeys on screen. The emphasis on realism means extrinsic growth is either subtle or non-existant. This means there are no power ups or Metroidvania upgrades that you have to explain via text or voice over. And lastly, a cinematic platformer emphasizes ambiance so there's less emphasis on making music and non-diegetic sounds.
Limbo does all of these. Everything you seen on screen is essential with the exception of the collectable eggs you can find throughout the game. At the time when I first played, it was profoundly resonant. It helped that it was one of the first indie games I ever played. However, I think the impact was still felt among gamers at the time even the ones who were more attuned to independent game development.
Out of curiosity, I looked up games from that time:
As you can see, Limbo is among the first to show up via Google. But more interesting, it stands out among a list of Triple AAA games. Ones rich with polygons, cluttered with mechanics, and or full of spectacle. Not to say any of these games are bad. However, it reflects the trend at the time and why Limbo captured audiences. Limbo's existent was a statement against overproduced games and showing minimalism can create the same level of engagement.
Year Walk is similar albeit with two different approaches. Firstly, the game's way of maximizing minimalism to by making the most out of the touch screen controls. Now, if you are playing this on PC, this will not be felt. But playing this on mobile at the time of its release, it was interesting how they incorporate movement in a way that doesn't involve using a clunky digital D-pad. Not only that, the game involves a handful of puzzles that makes the player engage with the touch controls in a novel way. It lends to a more immersive experience which is important for the horror vibe Year Walk was going for. Secondly, the game is shown in first person. This means even less things to animate. But as an added bonus, the perspective adds more to the horror by shrinking your field of vision. Again, less is more. Minimalism is maximizing.
Ambiguous Storytelling
Now, Im of the opinion that ambiguous storytelling is really hard to do. It's the equivalent of making a house of toothpicks.
And unfortunately, the problems ambiguous story face is a case by case basis. So to have some grounding as we go into this section, let me establish how I feel ambiguous storytelling can be effective. Oh I guess now is a good time as any that we are entering spoiler territory, not only will I discuss Limbo and Year Walk's ending, I also plan on spoiling Shutter Island and Playdead's the Inside.
When I think of my favorite executions of open interpretation, they normally do one of two things:
1. Create conflicting or equally plausible conclusions in order to create unease.
Ambiguity brings out an inherently helpless feeling. We like control, and things that are unexplainable creates an uncomfortable feeling. That's why cosmic horror is so effective.
Horror tends to do this a lot, and I love in horror when an ambiguous moment creates two plausible scenarios, and both are equally terrifying. Shutter Island is a great example of this. The question on whether Leonardo Dicarprio, revealed to have a delusional disorder, is having a relapse or is faking his delusion in order to purposefully end his life, creates two equally miserable conclusions. Sure, you can arguably make a case for one outcome being the correct ending, but who cares! To me, the effectiveness of the ending is the foundation that Leo has either failed to overcome his mental illness or chose to not live in a more painful reality, and both are a tragic end to this protagonist. But hey, that's my interpretation, one of many the ending of Shutter Island creates with its ambiguity, which leads to the next function-
2. Ambiguous storytelling creates opportunities for the audience to connect with the story in their own personal way.
If you watch any David Lynch interview, he talks a lot about abstraction in his storytelling. In short, he describes abstractions as opportunities for the viewer to use their intuition. Essentially, there is a certain power one feels when using intuition to make sense of an abstraction. That feeling correct is a more powerful sensation than being correct. When a story spoon feeds you what you are suppose to feel, it can be satisfying sure. But when a story leaves it up to you, it can create a moment where you have to engage with parts of your brain that doesn't normally interact with media. If you ever felt viscerally weird after engaging with abstractions, almost a brain tingling sensation, that's you exercising your mind like straining your muscle when picking up a heavy weight.
Now, Limbo and Year Walk both include abstractions. And personally, they don't quite achieve the points I mention above.
Limbo's approach feels more in line with the second idea of ambiguous storytelling but taking to its absolute extreme. The boy is a blank slate and doesn't visibly react to anything happening to him. You can count the narrative beats on one hand. You know he is pursuing a girl. There are other people inhabiting this limbo space, and that the space operates almost in a liminal way. And finally, there are other animals. Why does a limbo have an ecosystem? Who the fuck knows.
And in those moments, that works. The setting doesn't reveal too much of its hand. While the title suggests it's a purgatory, nothing in-game confirms it. This could be a mere dream, an actual supernatural place, or some amalgamation of flashes of the boy's life. You could fit any reality to this setting, and it would likely work. And so, the setting does a solid job playing with your imagination.
Where it doesn't quite work is the plot itself. Firstly, the game reveals too much by prefacing that you are finding your sister. Granted, this is only in the log line and not implied in-game, but this unfortunately hurts the abstractness of the story. The plot also struggles with a case of "so what" when trying to find a takeaway. As an experience, it's fine but it is lacking an emotional linchpin that a player can leave with. He finds his sister and that's it. I guess you can decipher the purpose and interpret the relationship, their motivation, and the circumstances that got them into this world. But so what? No matter the conclusion you come up with, there isn't anything that will resonant with you from that conclusion. The game is a metaphor for the boy processing his sister's death? Ok, well so what? The game is the boy trying to save his sister from the judgement of the Limbo world? Ok, well so what? The game makes it so open ended that it could benefited from something that you can emotionally respond to. Maybe he hugs her or the environment begins to change into something else that contrasts from what we've seen before. It can still have that abstract effect, but it would give us something to digest as the credits are rolling.
Year Walk's approach is more in line with first type of ambiguity. The plot of Year Walk is fairly basic. Guy goes on a spiritual walk to get a glimpse of his future. He sees a vision of him killing his girlfriend. And in the end, we are left wondering if the guy either takes his own life or his girlfriend. Again, this is an IOS game. I can understand the plot is more a framework than being a traditionally compelling narrative.
However, similar to Limbo, a few sprinkles at the end to leave us something to digest would have done a lot. The story does achieve an ending where both conclusions are unsettling, but they also leave with a similar feeling of being unfulfilled. I suppose my gripe is that we don't get to see much of the couple's relationship. I think the ending would have more of a punch if similar to say the Shining, we get to see the relationship before everything starts to fall apart. Unfortunately, these rewrites are harder to implement. I imagine the first person perspective and minimalist approach marred the opportunities to explore the characters a little more thoroughly.
I suppose if I did a minimalism 102, this would be the topic of the class. While minimalism has many benefits of being less resource intensive and reminding us of how beautiful art can be stripped of its bells and whistles, an easy stumble these works can face is one of writing yourself into a corner. Both Limbo and Year Walk's narrative have a trade off of having a modular experience but lacking the flourishes that could elevate their respective narratives.
Im also not discounting the fact both of these works are early entries in Playdead and Simogo's ludography or whatever shitty term describes a body of work full of video games. They would refine their craft and execute on ideas better conceptualized in these games. Simogo only worked on a handful of titles before Year Walk before they began their descent into more surrealist work like Sayonara and Lorelei. Meanwhile, Limbo's followup, the Inside, is a full on upgrade in everything regarding the story. You want an ending that gives you something to digest well Playdead got you covered in all of its walking ball sack glory.
Still, I love these because they are early works. They aren't just early works in these indie studio's careers. They are early works in indie games in general. There are certainly indie games that existed before Limbo and Year Walk like Yume Nikki. And chances are, that game and a few others influenced both titles. But other than that, we are talking two horror titles completely detached from the glut off indie horror that exists now. It leads to pieces of work that feel completely authentic.
Conclusion
I'll go back to my initial question. Are these still effective games?
To be brutally honest, I don't think these games will blow people the way it did for me back in the early 2010s. Unless you are in tuned to the history of indie games or have no frame of reference to what the medium has to offer, these might not wow you especially compared to the developers' future titles.
For the first time in a retrospect, I felt a different type of love for these games. Normally these Favorite Games Retrospects are simply a way for me to gush about my favs. But here, I feel appreciation more akin to reminiscing with an old friend. We've come a long way since the days of Limbo and Year Walk. The memories are still sweet but less so to those weren't there. But hey, that's what makes memories precious. It's what makes art precious.
