I’ve just finished my umpteenth run through Journey, a videogame that is unlike any other before it. In fact, one can challenge whether Journey is a game; it does follow a “mechanic” and some platform jumping, but one can more relate to it as a profound experience instead. Without fail, I well up inside every time I reach the extraordinary conclusion to the remarkable, well, journey.
One finds it difficult to explain Journey without ruining part of the experience, but in a nutshell, it is the story of an anonymous being clothed in flowing red robes as he/she/it traverses massive swaths of desert landscapes to reach the peak of a distant mountain. On the way, you may or may not meet some anonymous player who crosses paths on your journey, and you may or may not stick together for the whole path. Whatever you choose or whatever circumstances, to experience Journey is to experience your full range of emotions — wander, curiosity, fear, love, despair, anger, hopelessness, and hope — within the span of one session. To describe Journey is to describe one’s emotions, rather than the game itself.
Although unique in its presentation and message, Journey is not the only videogame that experiments with emotionally stimulating experiences. Recently released, Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture examines the very existence of the meaning and value of life in a world where everyone is dead. Unnamed, unknown, you wander through a town with no sense of direction or hint or knowledge of anything except that no one is alive. As you walk around, you come in contact with a ball of light, which every now and then will lead you to important “hints” on what happened, but you’re free to ignore it and roam anywhere. And roam you should, for most of the story is out of the beaten path. You listen to radio broadcasts and witness light-fragments that shape conversations between people that took place where you are standing. Throughout the five chapters, you get to know the stories of the people who were around before they all perished.
However one approaches Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, it is an undeniably emotional experience that tries to address what people will go through on their final days before the apocalypse. From a priest who questions his own faith, to a love triangle, to scientists torn between duty and family … just what does one do? Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture is a story of loss and facing the inevitable. And the musical score accentuates the experience to unprecedented levels rarely found in a videogame.
Another experience that comes to mind is Gome Home, a small but heavily narrative-driven game that puts you in the middle of a family feud. You arrive home from holidays to find the house empty; your family has gone out and so has your sister. You move around the house, reading notes and messages and slowly discovering what has been going on and why everyone left. Revealing any more will spoil the story, but suffice to say that it is a story that many will relate to and is undeniably touching. Once completed, it is impossible to look at the topics discussed without some new-found appreciation; after all, the story of one person’s struggle is a much more powerful driver for change.
Videogames are a dime a dozen, but every now and then little gems pop out that differentiate themselves from the rest of the crowd. Between the myriad of action games and platformers and racers and puzzlers, there comes a game that changes the way we perceive the medium. These games sacrifice what we commonly associate with videogames — lots of shooting, breaking, jumping, etc — to deliver a foreign universe that is instantly familiar as the sights and sounds and narration tap into core human values and emotions. It’s a bold move and evolution of the medium, and while the format is still niche, it undeniably delivers poignant experiences that will stay in one’s memory for a long time.
