Life, as it unfurls, often feels like an ever-expanding list of obligations; deadlines loom, commitments multiply, and the digital world hums with a relentless energy that can leave us feeling perpetually… time-poor. As the years drift by, those precious moments of leisure time transform from simple downtime into something far more valuable – a cherished, almost sacred resource.
Within this context, the sprawling, endless games with daunting 'to do' lists can begin to feel less like an escape and more like an unwelcome echo of the very pressures we seek to leave behind. A creeping dread can set in, a sense of obligation intruding upon our hard-won free time.
I find games that offer a clear endpoint comforting. Games like What Remains of Edith Finch, SOMA and Road 96 all possess a profoundly satisfying sense of closure. They invite us into their meticulously crafted worlds, immerse us in their compelling stories, and then, crucially, they let us go. There's no endless grind for the shiniest loot, no sprawling list of tasks that stretches into the virtual eternity. Instead, we experience a complete journey, a contained narrative that leaves us with a sense of fulfillment, perhaps even a touch of wistful melancholy, but never burdened by the nagging feeling of unfinished business.
This appreciation extends beyond mere narrative closure. There's a growing desire for genuine engagement over frictionless experience, much like we had in the 360/ Wii/ PS3 era. The acceptance of fail states, of the necessity of dying and learning, speaks to this. It's not about shying away from challenge, but about ensuring that the challenge contributes meaningfully to that feeling of progression, that each attempt, whether successful or not, moves us further along the intended path, deepening our understanding and connection to the game's systems and story.
It's often within these finite narratives that we find the emotional connection we increasingly crave. These games frequently delve into profound themes, explore the nuances of complex characters, and evoke genuine feelings, leaving a lasting impact long after the credits roll. They resonate because they often mirror the very human experiences of loss, love, fear, and hope within a contained and manageable framework.
Beneath all of this lies a profound undercurrent – the growing awareness of time's relentless march. As the balance of our lives subtly shifts, the value of each moment of leisure sharpens into poignant focus. The existential understanding of the finite nature of our own time intertwines with the deeply human need for joy, for escape, for meaningful experience. Perhaps that's precisely why these contained, narrative-driven games hold such a powerful appeal. They offer a microcosm of life itself – a journey with a beginning, a middle, and an end, filled with moments of connection, challenge, and ultimately, a form of resolution.
In a world that often feels boundless and demanding, there's a profound solace in experiences that respect our time, that offer a complete and emotionally resonant journey within a defined frame. They remind us that even within the virtual, we can find narratives that mirror our own desire for meaning and closure, offering a precious and deeply satisfying use of our increasingly valuable free time. And in that, perhaps, lies a small but significant victory against the creeping tide of time itself.
LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East
LINK: The Argument for Videogames As Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction
LINK: Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review
LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated
LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)
LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)
LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review
LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)
