The Time Machine is a short-ish parser that continues the eponymous story, where you play as an unnamed friend trying to find clues as to Wells' psychosis (or proof that is tale is true). You get to explore parts of Wells' house, inspect his machine, and travel to the future with it (where you can explore a bit of the new world).
There are only a couple of puzzles (mainly to get and handle the machine), most of the interaction being conversations with the different characters. A sidebar includes your full inventory, NPCs you can interact with, and conversation options with said characters. There are also hints and a full walkthrough in-game.
The thing is, there isn't much to do after running the machine. I get that your goal is to get proof your friend isn't crazy, but had I been sent to the future, I would probably have tried to explore more or find a way to interact with the world... or just stand right there and freak out. Time may be of the essence for your friend, but you have a machine to rewind time (at only a push of a lever, how practical...).
Or go off the trails and get back in time. The possibilities are ENDLESS!
The Truth About PRIDE! is a short bitsy piece, where "you" explore the meaning of < pride >, by going through each of its letters (and an exclamation point). It is short and sweet, though it seems more of a personal interpretation of the meaning of the word rather than its "true meaning" (is there truly a true meaning for the word? or wouldn't you end up with individual interpretation of the word depending on your personal experiences?).
Each path leads you down that-letter-shaped corridor, where you can interact with that-letter-shaped element (where the author defines and question the meaning of each letter) before you can choose which path to go through (get the special meaning of P or back to the main room). There is also a secret path (which wasn't working for me).
Moving the sprite is a bit tedious (which is usual for bitsy) especially when you need to go across the screen with no interaction, or when an element is blocking your path in the next screen, or when it is not quite clear which tile is the exit.
Does it challenge any concept? Not really, it's more of a feel-good celebration of Pride, a pep-talk about yourself as an individual rather than pride as an aspect of your identity. But sometimes, that's all you need.
The Portrait, also titled as A Taste of Isekai in-game, is an exploration parser, a sort of amuse-bouche to a larger game coming out in the future. You are introduced to the PC, isekai'd into a strange world (and a new body!) without knowing how or why, and are given hints of the world you stumbled into, through exploring the couple of available rooms and examining the different elements in this room.
As the title of the game suggests, there is a massive portrait in the first room you land on, with an insane amount of details to discover (earning you points every time you find something interesting). Depicting three women, the picture will trigger memories (which you are certain are not your own) or mention other elements you could examine next.
This was clearly influenced by the "IF Art Show" competitions, where the goal was to focus on one specific object and mainly interact with it. This piece would have fit right in that event, as you (mainly) interact with the painting and all its little details. It's kind of neat to see newer games being influenced by (almost) forgotten events that defined IF. It makes for a lovely tribute.
The text is pretty verbose and extensive, similar to the very flowery style of the late 1800s. And quite focused on the body (which shouldn't be too surprising as (Spoiler - click to show)you are a man, waking up in a woman's body), which at times sounds a bit strange. It reminded me quite a bit to those pulpy romance novels, actually. It feels a bit voyeuristic and a bit uncomfortable, as we are told the PC to be, and somewhat disorienting. I mean (Spoiler - click to show)wouldn't it be extremely disorienting to wake up in a completely different body?
From the little you get to explore (and examine), it is clear that a lot of worldbuidling has been put down to paper (in the same way Creative Cooking felt to me - are they connected?). From the different species (maybe even are in conflict with one another?) with visuals reminiscent of known fantastical creatures, down to the architecture and decor reminding you of cultures on Earth (maybe there's more than just one link (you) between the two worlds), there is still quite a bit to learn to make this picture whole...
I finished with a score of 64 out of 80. Though I didn't find all the details, I feel like I have had a complete experience.
You Can Only Turn Left is a surreal piece exploring "the hypnagogic state between sleeping and wakefulness", based on a past dream journal. Though it may seem quite linear when going through the text, the game actually includes multiple endings, affected by the choices you can made throughout the story. I found two out of the four coded.
The game is quite unsettling from the start, with a fast animated sequence of moving text, uncomfortable sound, and changing background, asking you whether you are present or still dreaming. This aesthetic, along with blurred or flipped text, continues on in the rest of the entry, emphasising on the unreality of it all (whether it is describing dreams, "memories" or pure hallucinations). It often veers on the uncanniness of things (especially one ending), edging on the nightmarish.
There were some moments where reading the text was almost impossible, as the white text would barely be readable behind a light moving background, or bring too blurry to make out the different letters.
This vibe is also mirrored in the text itself, as you move from memories to dreams, with the narrator waking up, only to find themself still dreaming or going back into that hazy realm. You will go from very detailed and vivid settings to just a passing blurred line in the distance, real and grounded moments to bizarre and skin crawling hallucinations.
This was very strange, and yet very familiar (fudged sleep pattern with insane vivid dreams). It is bizarre and comforting.
Bydlo; or the Ox-Cart is a minimalist micro Bitsy piece about, according to the blurb, the triumph of art over drudgery.
Using a simple orange and white palette, and the dreary Mussorgsky's Bydlo theme from Picture At An Exhibition, the game lets you control a little sprite (farmer?) navigating through its field, day by day, as an ox cart passes through the screen. Each sequence (about a dozen) shows a different iteration of the field, with boulders, plants, and carcases blocking your path. Yet, you must continue on, weaving through the obstacles to reach the next level, and the next, and the next...
Until... the cart exit the screens. And so can you.
There is very little you can interact with in the environment, only moving about the screen. You learn nothing about the setting or yourself, why you are here and what you want further. There isn't any text aside from the title and the final screen. Only the chirped version of the melancholic theme...
I am not really sure what to make of it still... Monotonous work pushing people into boredom and daydreaming? Tediousness making us wish for an easier time, a more fun time? Or is it a confrontation of how we view labour (i.e. seeing beauty and art in the mundane)?
Or... should we just enjoy a piece without reading too much into it...
A chilling and confusing snippet of life told through the eyes of a small child dealing with struggling parental figures, in a gothic style
Horror is usually not my style because I am a bit of a chicken, but Sweetpea's big eyes and scared demeanor pulled me in and would not let go until this game was complete. [This is actually my second playthrough]
The vivid descriptions of the surroundings or Sweetpea's feelings, as well as the formatting and animations of the text added onto my discomfort and uneasiness. Yet, I could not look away. I had to check all the boxes and find all the hidden links to understand the troubles the eponymous character was going through.
I actually didn't catch this the first time around, but it is (Spoiler - click to show)heavily implied the father is an alcoholic following the mother's departure (death?), behaving strangely in her eyes when drunk. The hints were all there, from the stranger who looks like dad but is not like dad; the broken glass and the sickness in the bathroom, or the father leaving for hours/days on end. It is clear the father is trying his best (and failing at the task), but his guilt is not enough to change him (until the end is reached). The horror of every day life...
Even the second time around, I was still quite confused at the second "act" with Micheal, not because of the change of background marking a new beginning in the story, but by the shift in the story going from a grim reality told through the eyes of a child, to being swooped by some sort of guardian angel in some imaginary place and being served breakfast. (Spoiler - click to show)Then afterwards, the context of alcoholism with the father kind of makes it as if the dad was sobered up then, caring for his child.
While the story ends on the positive note, it still depict a grim part of life, where hurt people hurt other people (and worse, children), which shook me to my core. The contrast of the pain and the panic of the child with the fond remembrance of gifts or the soothing taste of a sweet makes it all the harder to go through. This is accentuated by the gothic style of writing, making this everyday horror more vivid and visceral.
Chills going down the spine at every turn.
Jumping a few years into the future of Pageant, Karen Zhao comes back, more anxious than ever, for a short evening, celebrating the turn of a new year. Stuck in a house out of social obligation, Karen has the option to interact with a cast of familiar faces, go down memory lane, or hide from everyone as best she can to avoid starting a panic attack before the clock strikes twelve. How ever will she cope?????
The one thing that I love about Autumn's games is how real the characters and their interactions feel. NYE19 is no different, continuing on the tradition of anxiety-inducing situation and self-deprecating humour bordering on self-loathing. But unlike its predecessor, Pageant, NYE19's tone translated less as slice-of-life-of-a-stressed-teenager-trying-to-make-it-through-the-semester-oh-god-is-she-having-a-panic-attack-again-just-kiss-her-you-dummy and more of this-is-what-a-college-student-forced-to-come-home-for-the-holidays-special-sitcom-epidose-feels-like. From the really awkward meetings with your old high-school friends (or did you date them? or were they crushes?), to the adults hounding you with questions about your future, or your family wanting to uphold a certain image around people. It's a party we've all been to, it's the kind we wish we didn't have to stay...
And Karen, our favourite anxious lesbian, does too. From the start, she warns the player she does not want to be here, really does not find having to engage in small talk (especially with people she's lost touch with), and actually wishes being anywhere but at this party. It is awkward to interact with people you knew (or more than knew) some years prior but with who you have lost contact (life...), finding how they have (not) changed, and how they've been fairing compared to you.
During the span of an evening, you meet (again) Emily, a trans woman (out of the closet then?) who helped you in Pageant to win (kinda) said pageant; Miri, your best-friend, who tagged along for the party because she did not want to be at her family's party and became the social butterfly you could not be; and Aubrey, your high-school rival, who seems to still be doing just as well with her Harvard education, her Harvard boyfriend, her probably-perfect-looking Harvard life... You also get to roam around the party daydreaming nihilisticly about the state of the world, hide in the basement to watch a MCU movie and be cringe to your brother, stuff yourself with food to temper with your imminent anxiety attack, play some mahjong and lose badly, hide in the bathroom and take selfies sending your into some self-loathing, play some games on your phone...
Whatever you do (especially your interactions), you are constantly reminded of your shortcomings from the past and how you let your anxiety cause the dwindling of your relationships. Your past haunts your every move and your every thoughts, and being in the presence of people from your past makes it all the worse for your mental being.
Half-way through the game, you sit down to have some dinner, forced at the kids-but-not-really-kids table where all your (former?) friends are interacting. It is very awkward, with Aubrey forcing everyone to introduce themselves as if they were having some sort of team-building meeting, her boyfriend forgetting about the No-No-Conversations (Politics-Religions...)... You can choose to participate in the conversation, eat, or listen, but no matter what happens, you will leave the table before the meal/conversation is over, leaving the party as well to go for a walk.
This is where things get interesting. Emily asks whether she can come along, and agreeing or not will give you very different outcomes. The latter will find you wallowing about your loneliness and how devoid of human connections your life is (much due to your own actions), while the former has a more hopeful and levelheaded conversation (leading possibly to a relationship...). With each still, and throughout the whole game, Karen goes on an introspection about the seemingly importance of human interaction, how easy it is to fuck up things, and the transactionality of relationships, all wrapped in a nihilistic and fatalistic bow (everything goes wrong, even if you do the right things).
Even if this sounds all depressing, it strangely is not. I found myself giggle at some passages. The dry self-deprecating humour is honestly hilarious (especially the Narrator's comments). At any moment, I was expecting a laughing track to cue. Or maybe I was just playing this with a strange mood...
The game is also very meta about what it is trying to convey. From playing a dating-sim game within an essentially dating-sim game, to the commentary on human interactions being comparable to dating-sims in the optimisation of [emotions/variables] to get the best possible outcome through a sequence of actions we hope is the correct one while we play a dating-sim where the sequence of choices can be optimised to get that "good ending", the story and the gameplay play quite interestingly on each other to get those points across.
Still, unlike other works from Autumn, while I enjoyed myself playing it, it didn't have the same impact on me. I didn't click as much with it as her other games, and felt a bit unsatisfactory? by the end of the playthroughs. The game has some strong moments, especially the part outside of the house, and some funny moments during the roaming around before dinner/before the countdown, but at other moments, it felt hollow. Maybe it is because of your limited agency in the way you interact with others or act, since Karen is an anxious and socially awkward person who has a hard time expressing her feelings and thoughts. Maybe it is because some of the characters you interact with and the way you defined your previous relationships don't feel as fleshed out (Miri and Aubrey comes to mind, especially compared to Pageant or even Emily). Or maybe it is Karen's blasé look on dwindling and lost relationships that ticked me that only allows her to have superficial contact with people (aside from Emily). Or maybe it is the more fragmented type of different gameplay/mechanics that didn't work as well as the Storylet format of Pageant, or the more linear work of GG and the war. Or maybe because the end was a bit too abrupt... I'm not quite sure
There is a wonderful sentence from the post-mortem that really encapsulate the vibe of this game, and strangely reminds us of the hope Karen feels just before returning to the party... and this is where I will be ending this review:
> The past is inescapable, but the future is not entirely determinate.
There is still time...
Computerfriend is a nihilistic take on a future/past, where everyone is miserable and somehow still living through a more-than-poluted world devoid of community sense and safety nets. Following an unnamed incident, you are required to follow therapy sessions via a AI program on your computer, the eponymous Computerfriend(.exe). However, this program is not... what you'd expect of therapy.
Computerfriend was my introduction to Kit's world, randomly answering a call to playtest it ahead of the SpringThing 2022. I remember it being very confusing and trippy and gross, and yet I did not want/could not to look away. I devoured that game, and played again and again until I had found all endings.
Coming back to the game felt like swimming in a strange but comforting acid pit, and talking to computerfriend.exe felt like talking to an old toxic friend you are not quite sure whether they mean good or harm. Needless to say, I was like a kid in a bath, refusing to leave.
Not going to lie, this game is very strange. And it has been stuck in my mind for over a year now. It has marked me in ways I'm still discovering today. Even if it is not supposed to be beautiful, with its blinding change of colours or its eye-printing fonts or the literal ugliness of the setting, there is still charm in the harshness of the visual. Even if it is not supposed to be cathartic, each story run left me strangely satisfied and [at peace / terrified / confused / angry / revolted]. Even if it was incredibly bleak and borderline fatalistic, with an unliveable world devoid of nature and cows that can lay eggs, there is still shreds of hope in there that survival is still possible, maybe for a bit longer.
In its indulgence in all that is considered bad, the game manages to be so incredibly good.
One last special shoutout to Computerfriend:
While the story is supposed to be about your recovery, the main show revolved around computerfriend.exe, your at-home therapist AI, which still needs a bit of tweaking before it can help you get back on track. At first, it seems the AI does not truly listen to you, as it goes down a checklist as if to fill in a form (to try to understand you) - the dissonance between your answers to questions and its responses is very staggering (for lack of better word). As you progress down the "recovery" path, the AI will propose different treatments, going from strange to terrifying to injecting yourself with drugs. If you refuse or don't find the treatment useful, it will pressure you to continue. Even saying NO is a painstaking process (and the first time, it is even ignored).
computerfriend.exe can truly be awful, but it remarkably funny. When it first assesses you, it does not just look up your location or how the weather is, but also finding the contacts to the nearest first respondent and pollen level (am i supposed to have hay fever?). This might be the bleakness of the game affecting me, but I still chuckle at it. Same after you close the application and try to reopen it, it will tell you to butt off because it is busy. It even gives you homework, actions to essentially distract yourself until the next session (and the options are delightful).
The Familiar follows Fran, a familiar in the form of a crow, as she embarks on a quest to save her witch mistress who has succumb to an illness. Through a series of puzzles and exploration, Fran uncovers a secret plot and fights for her mistress's life.
I am a sucker for a good simple puzzle and a cute story, and this is no wonder this game made it to my top list of the SpringThing this year (well, it was already a favourite of mine while I was testing it). From its clean and simple aesthetic, the gorgeous pixel art for each "room", to its delightful characters, The Familiar is such a well rounded game.
Obviously, playing as a crow, you are limited in your abilities to help your bedridden mistress (it is a magical wonder you can get her a blanket). Still, the puzzles are constructed in a way that would be doable for a crow to solve (and you a smart little one). Cawing your way into town to get attention, pecking people to move them out of the way, or picking up and dropping objects in the right place, you manage to acquire all needed ingredients to save the witch.
And you are not alone in the process. Meeting first Hazel, a mouse familiar whose master perished not long before the game, who will tend to your mistress while you fly to fetch the ingredients (turns out, it's not the flu but a curse, whomps...). Then a trio of NPCs in town: Miroger, who's bother has died, Cecile, who needs help writing and sending a letter to her lover, and Frederik, who knows a good deal when he sees one. Each helps you getting one ingredient in exchange for a small favour. Finally, the evil wizzard's owl coming at the 11th hour to stop Fran.
But how does it end then? With a happy ending, for course! This is still a feel good story at the end of the day, one that makes you feel satisfied when the ending screen comes around. The day is saved, the mistress is healed, and you made some friends along the way.
What I really appreciated from it was how inclusive the game was for beginners (or terrible parser player like me), as you are limited to 5 verbs (TAKE, DROP, LOOK, PECK, CAW), there is an available tutorial to teach you the controls, and a thorough walkthrough is included in case one is stuck.
I wanted to give a special shoutout to the artwork, considering how long it took to make 30+ pixel art headers, many of those heavily detailed. Those truly gorgeous small pieces of art enhance the atmosphere of the setting, from the cozy home, to the luscious forest, and the different and vibrant parts of the industrialised city. If it all felt like a pixelized version of a Ghibli movie, that was on purpose (the author confirmed the reference).
Anyway, I'm going back to fly after that darn letter...