An Experimental Journey – A Closed World Review
Contains extremely (!!!) heavy narrative spoilers for A Closed World. ——————– The portrayal of deviators from the sexual norm in the realm of video games is rarely a flattering one. Either they’re stereotypically fabulous, or they’re sexually dominating in some way. They’re almost never portrayed as regular people who simply happen to be attracted to members of their own gender. Nor has the struggle it is for many gay people to come out of the closet been under the magnifier in the world of games. A Closed World is an experiment, made by the Singapore-MIT Game Lab, which tries to do just that. ACW asks the question: What is normality? A question I’m confident a lot of people have asked themselves at some point in their lives, especially to find out whether they themselves belong to that that exclusive club of “normal” people. As with all experiments, one must expect them to end in failure. You do not make them in the anticipation that they will revolutionize whatever field of science you’re working in, or alternately what branch of the arts you are nesting in. They are merely the forerunners of something far greater. Projects that you might not even be involved in. However, that tough, ungrateful groundwork is needed to provide the necessary experience for future endeavors. In a way, it gauges the temperature, tests the waters. A Closed World is one such experiment, and it should be played as one, as practically all the game elements leave you wanting. The player takes the role of a young girl, seemingly lost in a dark forest, all manner of dark and foul things howling around her. Looking for her lover, who has persuaded her to join her in the foreboding forest, she has no choice but to follow her further inside. She meets her first demon. It looks like it’s made of…wood. Its yellow eyes stare blankly at her. The girl approaches, and braces herself for combat. Not by sharpening a sword, or taking potion of Giant’s Strength, but by taking a deep breath, focusing, and finding the right words. Although constructed like many a JRPG, with a multitude of variations in attacks, defenses, buffs and heals, A Closed World adopts a far different combat scheme. Instead of using the aforementioned often-seen ways of delivering combat, it uses the three forms of appeal. Ethos, Logos and Pathos must be used according to whatever demon’s arguments you are up against. This is an excellent non-violent way of creating combat, a feature that is oddly – well, perhaps understandably – missing in modern video games. Most games are about smashing stuff and killing people. This is about the power of speech, the power of words. Conflicts can be solved in other ways than with force. Now isn’t that a valuable lesson to learn? Unfortunately, the combat never has a hint of challenge or depth once you see through its simple structure. Anyone with a basic knowledge of human speech – which counts most people – can quickly find out which buttons to click when, and even if you are completely incompetent, there are only three combat options, so it’s practically impossible to fail. The girl emerges at other end of the dark forest. After a night of terror and facing her past, she is greeted by a beautiful sunrise and a plaque to commemorate those who came before her, those who beat down the path she has just walked. Through hardship, she has forged happiness. The forest has, as the oldest of all testing grounds, acted as the driving force in her change. From being a girl uncertain of her true identity, she has discovered who she really is. Unlike her lover, she will not accept that others will not accept her because of her sexuality. She will not let their ignorance rule her. She emerges reborn, although the events of the past will always stay with her. They can never be erased. Even though the game may have been developed with a specific demographic in mind, A Closed World still has a simple, but nonetheless very important message – that anyone regardless of orientation can identify with – it wishes to channel. “…to seek happiness, one must risk suffering and to be true to oneself is the greatest risk of all.” Meaning that, in accordance with the venerable cliché, we must stay true to ourselves. No lasting happiness can ever come from repressing your real emotions. Or as in the case with the girl, and many people around the world, your sexuality. However, the girl’s lover did not find happiness in her true identity, “they would never be unless I hid my true self from them…[I believed there was more] beyond the forest, beyond the fog.” It is a perilous journey, and many are lost along the way. Few truly manage to not break at the pressure of conforming to normality, but to those few who do have the strength: I salute you. A Closed World is about the necessity of taking risks. Just sitting in place, moping over your own misery will never bring any good. Sure, you can blame the society you live in for it, but ultimately you need to take the first step to your own betterment yourself. People can help guide your way, but no one can take the journey for you. It’s just such a shame that A Closed World never manages to become a very good “game”. Only a few of the elements that require player-interaction are essential for the game. And although the idea behind the combat/speech system is intriguing, it never gets enough air under its wings to be engaging. It’s simply too simple, and too shallow. It’s a mistake many thematically strong games make. They put all their focus on making an engaging world for the player to take in, but include none of the tools needed to actually involve the player in it. However, like I stated in the beginning, it’s not fair to judge it as a standalone game. After all, it is only an experiment. Experiments win new territory and new experiences, in the hopes of one day creating a marvel. I, for one, look forward to seeing something beautiful built on top of this. |
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