Reviews by JJ McC

Adapted from a SpringThing24 Review

Played: 4/2/24
Playtime: 1.75 hrs, 7/27 achievements, 230pts

Barely a year and a half into my re-engagement with the IF world, and ChoiceScript feels like a gap in my curricula. I have played maybe three of these games in this time, against innumerable Twines and double digit Inks and Textures, nevemind Adventuron, or experimental platforms including Google Forms fer cryin out loud. And so, so many parsers of course.

ChoiceScript stands out as a unique platform in that pantheon, one committed to provisioning assorted gameplay styles (RPG! SIMfortress!) in addition to choice-driven IF. It gives unique flavor to works that engage those mechanisms which, of the three I played, most do! (It is always a gamble when I engage topics I don’t really understand in reviews. I’m kind of 0-2 on that so far, let’s see how this pans out.)

This is a fantasy story about service to a mercurial lord, and trying to retain personal honor and initiative while doing so. It has some GOT vibes to it, not as over-the-top dire, but certainly the same ‘what are your options, REALLY if the lord is a dick?’ twists and turns. The setting is nicely conceived and conveyed, the story very engaging. It is also a low-grade military simulator. And a low-grade SimCity simulator. And a low grade dating simulator? Maybe not quite, but close. Of course gameplay is choice-driven, its in the name. But you are balancing civilizing a city, conducting foreign diplomacy, establishing personal relationships with periodic set piece plot movement.

Per recommendation, I played on Easy mode, which I interpret to favor story over grindy mechanics, very much my preference. That said, the grindy aspects were not unpleasant. Micropayment apps have long known the value of watching numbers go up, and the game lets you do that! Without the payments! I had the vague sense that those numbers informed my relationship to my liege though it was hard to see those as big movements. Certainly, some military encounters seemed to impact subsequent diplomacy in a satisfying way. The personal relationships… maybe wheel spinning (until the end) but at least some color. In one sense they felt like disconnected minigames I would cycle between, but in another it kind of conveyed my evolving role in the kingdom, and different hats that needed wearing. Not a finely blended gazpacho, but an interestingly chunky pico de gallo. Though crap, why did I say that? I love gazpacho.

In any case, the gameplay cycled around me building to a very engaging crescendo. I did not expect to feel so deflated by it. The Spring Thing version of the game resolved to two options. In deference to spoilers let’s call them ‘buy’ or ‘sell’. The deflating part was that based on some text, lore and buildup, I was expecting to see a more compelling third option: ‘destroy capitalism’. I didn’t get that, so I ‘sold’ and got an ok ending, but it left me wanting. Dramatically, I needed to at least see that third option. Turns out that option may or may not be available in a different version of the game. In the moment though, that was the least interesting observation for me as a reviewer.

A more intriguing dynamic would have been that it was included, but my numbers were not high enough to expose it. Suppose it had been a hidden achievement, then what? Then, this would be a game structured for repeat play to complete (some mutually exclusive) achievements, maybe try Hard mode, and by GOD expose that last finale. But to do that, I’d need to cycle through another near two hours of limited minigames, trying to jockey for different results, and reliving variations on a cool plot that may not hold many more surprises. And what if I did all that, and then there was still no third option??? Or worse, THERE WAS A THIRD OPTION, BUT I STILL DIDN’T ACHIEVE IT??

Could the game justify those levels of repeated investment and disappointment, nevermind clock time of further cycles? For me, no. I had a pretty enjoyable 2 hrs, all told, with a pretty solid story and diverting minigames. It’s not the game’s fault I set my heart on a little more. (Well, it kind of is, but it certainly doesn’t OWE me anything.) I appreciate what it had to offer, but it decided to pull up short and/or not better communicate its third path.

It made its…
(•_•)
( •_•)>⌐■-■
Choice.
(⌐■_■)
YYEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH

Mystery, Inc: “We should split up to cover more ground” Fred
Vibe: GOT-lite
Polish: Gleaming
Gimme the Wheel! : If my project, I would better telegraph the third finale requirements to give players a fighting replay chance. If it doesn’t exist, I would take whatever time I needed to invent and plumb it in!

Polish scale: Gleaming, Smooth, Textured, Rough, Distressed
Gimme the Wheel: What I would do next, if it were my project.

Adapted from an IFCOMP22 Review

This is a parser based game, but the implementation feels like it is fighting convention kind of just to fight it? The attempt is to get the user to type commands more naturally, in complete sentences. I can see why intellectually this may make some sense (and certainly as a hook for voice-based accessibility), but practically speaking it feels misapplied in a keyboard-based IF. The mainstream tradition and promise of IF is to ‘put the player in the story.’ Now, since this form predates VR goggles by decades, it needed to do this in text. Text is already a layer of disconnect though, right? You aren’t ‘walking north’ you are TYPING ‘walk north.’ The more you think about typing, the less immersion you have. (Excepting of course sly little games that integrate typing-at-a-keyboard into its conceit. Those minxes!) This is why one letter abbreviations are so prevalent in IF - ‘examine’ is so many letters to type, it drags immersion, especially when done repeatedly. The more you can do this the better. The power of parser IF of course is that it presents the illusion of limitless nouns and verbs. WE know that’s not true, but that is the tradeoff we’ve negotiated over several decades: type any word, but common ones give shortcuts. I mean, I’ve personally never finished an IF game thinking, “that was pretty cool, but I really wish I could have typed more.”

So Headlights wants to renegotiate that. Sure, why not, no sacred cows, right? I think I tried twice then said, “I’m typing way too much about this,” and reverted to more standard verb-noun and abbreviation conventions. To its credit, Headlights’ parser handled it. To its detriment it put what appeared to be debug messages after every command.

>OPEN DOOR
[I heard: ‘open the door’ → Say ‘as spoken’ to repeat exactly as you said.]
The door is open.
>N
[I heard: ‘go north’ → Say ‘as spoken’ to repeat exactly as you said.]

AFTER EVERY COMMAND. Other than actively berating me for not typing articles, I’m not sure how much MORE intrusive it could be. At a minimum there should be a command to shut that off. So I didn’t care for the new parser capabilities. Sure I could have made more effort to meet the parser on its own terms, but I think I would have chafed as much or more at the extra typing.

It had some issues re-implementing other parser features as well. Objects were sometimes listed via their code relationship, not necessarily their physical description. X GROUND in one spot yielded “Inside a meadow is a physical object, a place, a side, a thing, and an inside.” It aliased verbs inelegantly like when I TOUCH LIQUID, I got “you have petted the liquid.” I think my overall favorite was USE TOILET… “I don’t know what to do with a toilet.” Wow game, your parents REALLY let you down. These gaps were not as common as the debug messages, but still overwhelming.

Ok, so the parser implementation was Intrusive. How about the story? It was pretty bare bones. 4 or 5 chapters of 4-9 room exploration and minimal ‘get X from room2, use in room4’ kind of puzzles. The maps were all pretty linear, the descriptions pretty minimal. Usually a sentence of where you are, then a line by line list of objects in the room. That was useful at least, as there wasn’t a lot of searching. My favorite puzzle was (Spoiler - click to show)letting yourself get bit by a spider for extra strength, leading me to exclaim “I’m Spiderman now!” Honestly, it felt like a test drive for the parser more than a complete work of its own. There is a climax and payoff, but the stakes never really register as more than a dry IF puzzle.

Will be interesting to see where this parser implementation goes from here though.

Played: 11/12/22
Playtime: 40min, finished
Artistic/Technical rankings: Mechanical/Intrusive
Would Play Again? No, experience feels complete

Artistic scale: Bouncy, Mechanical, Sparks of Joy, Engaging, Transcendent
Technical scale: Unplayable, Intrusive, Notable (Bugginess), Mostly Seamless, Seamless

Played: 7/27/24
Playtime: 2.25hrs, 3 deaths, ‘won’ with walkthru

This is a companion piece to A1RL0CK, and I do recommend playing the two together. I also recommend playing in order, as I think the denouement of this game would not work as well out of order. Initially, it felt to me like an improvement in every way on the prior work - which I had found narratively very strong, but burdened by overwrought language, implementation gaps and (a few) inadequately clued puzzles.

Early in the proceedings of RU1N, I found it much smoother and linguistically more disciplined. Here, the protagonist is a blue collar space/underwater worker, notably different than the previous protagonist and much more relatable in his down-to-earth, no-nonsense voice. He is immediately thrown into an alien environment and asked to navigate. I found the language employed here very obfuscative and scattered, in a very effective way. My inability to mentally create a navigable geography or even a clear view of my surroundings seemed a clever way to evoke the disorientation of sudden immersion in an alien environment. I also liked how descriptions changed dramatically, where the protagonist’s first impressions were nightmarishly horrific, only to be supplanted with a more mundane reality. It was an effective way to convey hair-trigger panic at the distressing surroundings.

This impression carried me quite far, and was enhanced by a challenging folding-in-on-itself map that was navigable but just offkilter enough. I wish that early experience was sustained. Implementation issues seemed to become increasingly intrusive as time went on. From clumsy disambiguations

>x glass tube
Do you mean the narrow glass tube or the small device?

to LOTS of synonyms and missing nouns

> x aliens
Sorry, I don’t understand what “aliens” means.
> x alien
They are not much different from the fish you are used to.

to narrative phrasing that has either typos or baffling word choice

GOING AGAINST ME WILL GET YOU ANYTHING, JAY TEE. DOWN YOURWEAPONS AND JOIN THE CAUSE.

x panel
The panel is open, and shows a series of beaks facing the opening, like a rake.

In the most frustrating example, combining two objects produces a third, but the narrative does not announce either the disappearance of the components or the creation of a new one. I assumed it was a bug for a distressingly long period, only eventually noticing an addition to my inventory. As frustrating as these were, they nevertheless still represented an improvement in the prior entry.

A larger disappointment, for me, was the gradual transformation of the prose from its early punchy, unadorned simplicity to more melodramatic and overwritten. Contrast this early piece:

“So we’re screwed: it’s as dark here as in Satan’s colon. And there’s nothing up, down, left or right. Give me some pointers, Cart. I’m starting to feel overwhelmed.”

to this:

“Cursed is the shadow of hell,” you voice loudly.

While there may be a fictional character that can plausibly say both those things, I did not find this protagonist to be that guy. Similarly, the narration took a similar turn, forfeiting its early punchy gains for less appealing baroqueness (baroquery?). By the end, it felt linguistically fully of a piece with its predecessor.

Its final puzzle ALSO felt like a let down. Overall, RU1N was a much cleaner puzzle experience for me. Some challenging leaps, but mostly rewarding diligent examination and satisfying once completed. That final puzzle though - specifically the final step of the final puzzle. After having a series of moving parts to decode, manipulate and sequence, all of them satisfying, the difference between success and failure was one final move I found to be completely opaque. There is a mild hint in death, though I interpreted that hint quite differently and never got there. Walkthrough showed me the answer which, eh ok.

Now that I have fully and completely whined about this stuff, let me turn again. All of those artifacts were there, detracted from my experience, but all of them were both less pronounced than previously AND more than compensated by RU1N’s strengths. In addition to the early characterizations and scene setting called out above, this one included lots of ‘fiddles’ (minor atmospheric messages that emphasize the dynamic nature of the environment) that were positively creepy and unsettling and terrific mood setters. Most importantly, I found the plot of this one to be super strong, and the timing of its beats even MORE capably dispensed than its predecessor (which was a strength of that work too!). Its horror was more horrific, its revelations more organic and interesting. They were timed to ‘unlocking’ areas of the map, but given the relative smoothness of its puzzles translated to a steadier, more engaging pace of revelation. Yes, the protagonist character lost the thread a few times (peevishly damaging his equipment in a way that beggared credulity for his situation, strong physiological reactions that rang untrue), but the antagonist and NPCs stepped in to carry things ably to a strong finale, even if spoilers were needed to fully experience it. The antagonist’s final revelation in particular was both foreshadowed and surprising in a satisfying way.

So to sum up, feels, like its predecessor, that it could use more polish and prose editing. Its bones though are even stronger, and it accomplishes more with language than its predecessor attempted. Barring a sour final step, its puzzles were also both fairer and more satisfying. I turned this into an outright comparison. Didn’t mean to do that. Both are worth your time. (But this one is better.)

Played: 7/27/24
Playtime: 5min, 3/3 endings

Back before the internet enabled pervasive access to, euphemistically, “externally authored texts”, students had to work much harder to find shortcuts for research papers and book reviews. (Well, maybe just ‘harder.’) Cliff’s Notes were the legendary black-and-yellow pamphlet size books of sweet, sweet relief from hundreds of pages of droning on about, I dunno, whaling practices. While indispensable for adolescents that wanted a social life, they could be… clinical. They described plot beats, explained literary flourishes, notable prose characteristics, historical context. Great for impressing English teachers (who, in retrospect, were probably not as fooled as we kids believed). Not so great for actually EXPERIENCING the celebrated prose, thrilling to plot beats, or watching the author’s mind unveiled in its idiosyncratic glory.

NYX is a repudiation of Cliff’s Notes cold distillation. “I’m not gonna EXPLAIN (Spoiler - click to show)Alien to you,” sez NYX. “Imma speed run it for you.” Framed as a last transmission from a doomed spaceship with a single player choice, it packs an entire dramatic arc into an insanely tight time frame, with an earned choice of diverse denouments. To me though, this was not the most interesting thing about it.

I am a fan of this genre, this story’s most obvious inspiration, this subculture, and this author. There was NO chance I wasn’t going to like this. What I found most noteworthy though was the prose. Here’s why. Early on, the protagonist makes the well-known observation ‘we should send poets, not engineers, to space.’ Leaving aside the driveby on engineers there, have you READ THIS AUTHOR BEFORE? I mean, there is no one else I would send into space!! They have got to be on the launch shortlist, once NASA validates the poetry priority. Which made it so impressive to me that the voice for this work was exactly as aliterary as the work claimed. Chameleon-like, the author delivers a protagonist’s voice that is consistently, believably workmanlike and technical, which sold the story that much more solidly. It’s almost unfair and, given how DISTINCTIVE their most flourishing prose is, astonishing it is done this well. So sure, delivers punch in tight package, interesting alternative arcs, bla bla bla. Still, the RANGE of authorial voice is the compelling part. That was my big takeaway.

That, and the importance of self-destruct subsystems.

Played: 7/26/24
Playtime: 1hr, finished

This is billed as a beginner parser, and ok maybe. Certainly, veterans will find the puzzle play pretty straightforward. But a lot of what might uncharitably be called ‘training wheels’ by my strawman companion, I would characterize as ‘quality of life improvements.’ The work’s use of color to telegraph bespoke verbs and interesting nouns is particularly welcome. Room and object descriptions are so terse that they convey interesting details economically with no distracting prose chaff. Conversation trees were laughably shallow, having the effect of not distracting the player with misinterpretable color and ANY response being immediately flagged as useful. It’s not trying to give the illusion of alive NPCs, they are game pieces serving their purpose with clarity. Making the experience as friction free as possible is certainly a boon for new players, but honestly helps all of us!

The production strongly leverages its Adventuron platform: its thematic meandros borders crisply provide exit listings and major feature lists above its ‘work area,’ guiding proceedings without drama or heavy hand. The prose itself is crisp, yet delightfully empathic, developing a pleasantly generous, propulsive vibe that is just a delight to marinate in. The story itself is similarly warm, bending Greek mythology into a friendlier posture. The welcoming tone of the piece does as much as any gameplay innovations to signal ‘Parsers welcome everyone, not just crusty old fraternity members.’

If I may be so bold, there were a few burrs I detected that could be further buffed away: in the start room >GET SACK gave me both
you can’t take it
you pick up the sack of grains (which I clearly did not)

In another room, the sack description was SO terse I believed them a pile of empties and was surprised to (Spoiler - click to show)pull grain from them. One NPC knew about keys, but not the associated gates, making for a bit of conversation clumsiness and friction. I would also break up the verb inventory into categories - basics/system commands and spoilers. The opening screen characterized the verb inventory as spoilery, so I avoided it. In so doing, I missed its bespoke >TSCRIPT command (game rejecting the more standard >SCRIPT) and only at the end learned I could have provided one. Two categories of verbs, spoil and no-spoil might be a useful refinement.

Anyway, all that is further polish on an already terrific ambassador for parser games. The Adventuron platform itself should not be overlooked here, and was presumably chosen deliberately. With its overt old school aesthetic and vibe it conjures a time when IF was shiny-new and filled with promise. LnM’s warm story and welcoming play expands on that to open the hobby to those that might otherwise fear its legendary opacity and cruelty. By extension, LnM makes all of US look less inbred and niche. Thanks LnM!

Played: 7/26/24
Playtime: 15min, 5 playthroughs

One word review: MeYOW.

Four-word review: I really dug this.

Multi-word review of uncertain length:
This is a fascinatingly structured choice-select scene. A charged social interaction between four bureaucrats of varying levels of self-importance. There are a few repartees, then things are broken up by the adult in the room. The story is really what each player brings to the exchange, and their interrelationships that drive the prickly encounter. Man is it well conceived and executed. It is short enough that with only a few replays you are assembling a full picture of the dynamics and personalities at play.

It is hard to say what the ‘best’ way to play this is, but I will say, my method just crushed it, and you are welcome to use it. After cycling one each in the first play, I decided to alternate between members of the same ‘faction’, then repeat starting with the opposite lead. This gave me full visibility into one faction’s drives. Then repeated the whole sequence for the other faction.

It helps that the piece gives convincingly varied motivations, personalities and vocal adeptness to each participant, then shows how ALL those pieces lead to the unchanging conversation flow. It is fascinating because it is so well done and organic. In particular, on my first pass of faction A (for ‘a$$hole’, as opposed B for ‘befuddled’) I came away thinking ‘uh, why are these two basically the same person?’ only to have the reversed order put that to the lie in a deeply satisfying and nuanced way.

Will a different order produce different ‘a-ha’ moments of equivalent quality? Did I even get the BEST revelation order? I dunno, maybe to both? But even if not EXACTLY equivalent, the charge of what is revealed about whom in what moment is still really cleverly done and it’s hard to believe some charge won’t be produced regardless of order.

Yeah, this struck me as pretty uncommon use of interactivity, deftly architected for satisfying mini-revelations stitched through a snide exchange of petty rivalries. This is like the whole driving impulse of reality TV. Which I don’t really like. But LOVE here!

Played: 7/26/24
Playtime: 5min

This is a short, very short excerpt from a longer work. I am not convinced reviewing this in isolation does it, or the larger work, any favors. A priest is taken aback by a visit from a former romantic partner. That’s kind of it? There is tension in subtext for sure, largely interpersonal. The obvious tension though, that of love forbidden by the church, is mostly ignored? That complete non-engagement itself begs intriguing, but unaddressed questions. In such a short work, there is little time to develop either character beyond the allusions to their relationship. We get some vague sketches of their history, a glimpse into how each of them feels about it, and some one-dimensional character work. We don’t get much insight into them as fully human beyond this encounter. As a thin slice from a larger pie we needn’t expect that, but as a standalone scene the missing pie looms large.

Man, I really want some pie now.

The interactivity is minimal here, of the page turning variety. As an extended dialogue, the graphical presentation is appropriately and cleanly reminiscent of a script. It establishes an engaging rhythm, most pages starting with business and ending with dialogue. This rhythm is my favorite part of the work, making a virtue of its artificiality. The work carries itself as a script as well, to the stagey side of naturalistic. The priest in particular almost immediately expresses overt emotionality without much ramp. This is certainly economical and perhaps more justified in a larger stage production, but in a short vignette reads unnatural. The scene partner also comes across as… kind of smug? In a way that diminishes the reader’s empathy for both of them. Again, something a larger work could flesh out more compellingly.

I appreciate that the climax is pregnant with foreboding about what is to come next, given the bits we’ve seen, but I struggle to say I was invested in it. The work was simply too abbreviated to develop that. I really think the way to consume this work will be in its larger container. A quick peek at the author’s page shows that Vespertine is ALSO part of this larger work? I struggle to see how the two connect, and THAT is VERY interesting. It actually feels more of a piece with another work, Idle Hands, not only for its Biblical allusion title, but for its fascination with the collision between stifling religious doctrine and raw human need. The fact that it is NOT notionally linked begs all kinds of questions about the larger work, including its billing as gothic horror, where the horror part was noticeably absent from this intro!

A generous reviewer would do well to reevaluate this piece in its larger context - the entire pie as it were. Which, dear reader you will no doubt have cause to celebrate, as I DID secure a pie between initial composing of this review and posting. Bourbon Pecan. So good.

Played: 7/26/24
Playtime: 45min

My introduction to this author was via their prose which typically lands squarely in my thirsty, thirsty brain. It is so singularly confident, eloquent and evocative it just pulls me along regardless of the tale it is telling! I have also come to revere their sly use of interactivity and links. Rarely as true alternatives, link choices are instead used build contradictions in the protagonist, often more effectively than simply explaining them. This work in particular, with its changing and unselectable options paints a clear picture of a protagonist struggling unsuccessfully against their own nature, and does so with uniquely effective interactive techniques.

This work also leverages the dreaded timed text in an ultimately successful way, representing a campfire conversation being lived, not laid out to consume at leisure. I will confess to some trepidation before its use was fully exposed. It is NOT a terrific way to consume story-based works, but it works here as both a graphical cue of its framing sequence and is evocative of its setting.

As a campfire tale, an Old West supernatural story, its setup is enthralling: a stolen identity to mask a deeper secret; a tempting offer that does not go optimally (I mean, do they EVER?); all cresting to some sort of resolution and twist. It’s a terrific formula, and the FORM of it is deeply appealing. Let me break it into four acts: ACT I - the setup and mini-climax; ACT II - a short transition; ACT III - a doomed, joyful interlude; ACT IV - turn and finale.

Despite a terrific plot frame, ACT I prose (acharacteristically for this author) pushed at me. It felt like an unedited first draft? I say this because the prose that so often effortlessly pulls me in, pushed at me here. In one dimension there was the disconnect between the language/imagery and its uneducated, hard scrabble protagonist. In another I found the sentences themselves over-claused? This author’s prose style is NOT Hemingway, not at all. But here, it felt like their typical discipline slipped and where extended sentences and modifying clauses usually flow and ebb but close with a punch, ACT I felt overridden with sentences that continued and continued and continued… and closed in confusion. It really felt of a different piece than the ACTs to follow. Because it was the FIRST ACT, it also pushed me away a bit, even as lots of plot (and notably inventive link architecture!) was happening. This was an uncomfortable, unwelcome conclusion for me. Judiciously turning some commas into periods would make a WORLD of difference here, to me anyway.*

For me, the most successful acts were the middle two. In particular, ACT II plays directly to the prose strengths of this author. I could remove this act from context and read it over and over again. Will resist spoiling what it is describing, but let’s just say it uses food chain specifics to paint passage of time (and obliquely evolution of protagonist) in a singularly magnetic way. This stands among the strongest sequences by this author. Because ACT I did not click in so crisply, this was a breath of relief as well.

ACT III delves into emotional interiority in a way that felt both earned and suitably shadowed for the tale. The prose employed to do so remained singular, unintrusive and propulsive. There were some logistical questions not quite clarified… a new character was able to pierce the veiled identity of a new body somehow… but the emotional content felt right. My specific question: (Spoiler - click to show)The host seemed to recognize the protagonist’s biological sex during a bath despite currently inhabiting a body the text leaned into as a male. Layered on top of this was deep sadness over the implications of the ACT I deal, agreed upon with no anticipation of ACT III’s fleeting joy. I found story beats, language and emotional content all clicking together smoothly and satisfyingly here.

ACT IV disappointed me in a different way. There was, throughout the work, some tension in the protagonist’s character. Early self-isolating choices pointed strongly one direction, only for later longing choices to contradict those earlier ones. In ACT IV, choices and mental anguish seemed further disconnected from plot beats and character motivations in a distracting way. In one sequence, the protagonist bemoans the impossibility of locating someone, despite having been told they are the local sheriff. Is it really that hard to find a sheriff when you need one? That seems like a pretty good lead to me! The anguish felt overwrought, given the circumstances. In general, the runup to the final scene felt more of a piece to ACT I than II and III, though the sentence structure definitely carried more discipline.

I am happy to report the final scene absolved a lot of that. A final plot twist is actually quite satisfying, leading to a final tragically impotent choice and open-ended climax. Then a campfire stinger appropriate for the narrative. While I initially rebelled at the open-ended climax, the narrative engaged it directly and turned me 180 on it in like two screens. That is some story-telling power!

So, overall impression: two frictiony acts, two banger acts, and a strong close. Sure, would prefer them all to stitch together cleanly, but if not, that’s good enough for me!

*It is not lost on me that the above criticism is fairly leveled at MY style as well. But this isn’t about me!

Played: 7/25/24
Playtime: 10min, 3/3 endings

It is kind of gratifying to watch an artistic arc. So much art is consumed one-and-done in this day and age. Honestly, that does seem to be the model that makes the most sense anyway. Artists spend inordinate time and energy refining and honing a piece of art to stand on its own, encapsulating a complete artistic vision, and hopefully resonating with an audience in an engineered way. (Art IS engineering. Fight me.) While repeated engagement may be deeply gratifying to the artist, its impact on the consumer is usually dominated by that first encounter.

There is serialized art of course. Novels and comics have long engaged in serialization, most famously pulpy entertainment of recurring characters in genre adventures. I am not talking about a FICTION or STORY arc, however, I’m talking about an artistic one. When a single artist is behind serialization for an extended time their intellectual and artistic growth can become part of the story, a compelling subtext to another round of puncheminnaface. If you’ve never read Dave Sim’s complete Cerebus, it is a rollercoaster of artistic preoccupations and before-your-eyes evolution. Its latter half in particular is so dominated by the artist inventing Bad Takes (TM) before our eyes as to be equal parts mesmerizing and repellent. That arc ultimately overwhelmed the fiction it was nominally creating.

This is not what’s happening here, to be clear. I invoked it as one type of artistic arc. Another, more relevant arc is when an artist returns to some theme several times, exploring it in different ways and to different effect. This work seems to be connected to two others by this author, as a trilogy of sorts, all exploring the intersection of entitlement and romantic relationships. The author acknowledges this work’s debt to a crackerjack earlier work that I personally really enjoyed. It also shares overt similarities to a subsequent work I reviewed this 'Thon. The artist of course has naming privileges, but absent their input I will call this “The Entitled Heart Trilogy.”

This strikes me as a middle work both thematically and temporally. The first ‘entry’ engaged a troubled but redeemable relationship with a dangerously biased power dynamic. The third delivered a cold ‘masks off’ condemnation of full on toxicity. This one bridges the gap by using fantasy time loops to explore the surprisingly grey border between romantic manipulation and earnest will-to-change. In some ways it is the most subtly challenging of the three, particularly when exploring all possible endings. The author ultimately has some specific ideas about where things land, and in the construct of their fiction of course is the authority. I nevertheless appreciated that prior to the endings, the language remained open enough to challenge the player’s presumption of protagonist motives, conscious or otherwise. The fact that the ambiguity doesn’t extend to (one of) the endings is kind of a cutting rebuke of self-delusion lurking in the border tension. The fact that there are three endings further muddies the waters - toxicity is not fore-ordained!

I really enjoyed the first one. I appreciated the third one, which was much more straightforward, terse and confrontive. I may have liked the fleeting ambiguity of this one best of all, and the damning but open ending space it carved out. I really like all three of these together, and the artistic arc they collectively describe.

And unlike Cerebus, the artist is not reduced by their arc!

Played: 7/25/24
Playtime: 5min, 5 playthroughs, 5 deaths

The 'Thon has exposed me to a higher density of (Spoiler - click to show)choices-don’t-matter works than I have previously encountered. Seems like tight time frame Jams draw these out for completely understandable reasons. Thing is, this type of game hinges so completely on its artistic theme that everything else pales, and it becomes the dominant lens to view the work by.

Unless… you are sending up that very type of game!

The player-protagonist is a crash test dummy. Famously without initiative or agency. You achieve consciousness and have precious little time to try and do something. This is a very attractively put together example of the sub-genre. Its color scheme, aggressive layout and interface are both attractive and functional, and satisfyingly evocative of the protagonist’s identity. The choices on offer are surprisingly numerous, given the character in question, and it takes a few playthroughs to feel like the space is satisfactorily explored. Though even after a single play, you get a sneaking suspicion what the work is on about, the message is dutifully reinforced through repeat plays. One choice in particular - use of dreaded timed text - ups the ante in a kind of hilarious way. (Spoiler - click to show)Not only can you not influence your fate, you can’t even control how you get information!

This reads so clearly like a playful spoof of these types of games, and goes above and beyond to really twist the knife. From the protag’s identity, to gameplay, to timed text presentation, it is cheekily poking at other games of its ilk and outright taunting players who play them! “Hey, that crash test dummy? That’s YOU player! Strap in and shut up!” As a one-joke jam game, for IF nerds like me, it is the exact correct mix of taunting insult and loving send up to elicit “yah-you-got-me” laughter. You can have your (Spoiler - click to show)tragic fate, your helpless victimization, your cynical statement no-choice games. I think this is my favorite game of this type.