Untitled (Underground)

Adapted from a Review-A-Thon 26 Review

Style: Visual Novel
Played: 7/21/26
Playtime: 25m, two playthroughs (second kinda quick)

For much of history, story-telling has been constructive, in the sense of architected to a climax. Its dramatic beats tightly coupled, practically engineered to resonate with satisfying if-then consequences that come together dramatically and often surprisingly. Originally in service of a moral lesson or thematic exploration like Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Inevitably, humanity decided words were more powerful than that, and could convey vibes and abstract concepts. Decided that dissonances and non sequiturs would trigger our pattern-searching brains to make something MORE of them.

UU is decidedly a modern work in that sense. There are two narrative threads intertwined here. Most superficially, an internet influencer is documenting his discovery and exploration of a liminal space hidden in a subway station. Layered on that, the narrator positions themselves as creator of the scenario (though not necessarily the characters?), and reflects on childhood dynamics that led to THIS creation, of animating THIS work. There are plenty of “author messing with character” post-modern narratives out there. What I find fascinating is that so few of them (at least that I’ve encountered) interrogate the CHARACTER CREATION role of the author. They often, as here, seem preoccupied with the PLOT and SETTING they craft, but treat the characters as victims in some sense. Which is wild, right? It’s not like authors are not creating all of it in whole cloth. The purpose of this focus sometimes seems to be to examine moral questions behind voyeuristic entertainment. Other times, it can be to examine the craft of writing and its grasping for emotional relevance. In these cases, it deliberately or as a side effect puts its characters in agency-free subject roles.

I didn’t really get those vibes here though. Oh, the fictional protagonist is VERY MUCH an agentless target of narrative. But in service of what was harder to pin down. His reaction to his circumstances was muted, dominated by concerns with his parasocial impact over physical safety. That’s kind of a resonant modern dynamic. But other than the fact of it, it doesn’t really mature into much. Our protag encounters enigmatic NPCs that are more off putting than threatening, and then after a while is rescued by a deus ex libriana.

Interestingly, the PLAYER is no more effectual in the work. It is mostly a visual novel, with one choice repeating itself as the protagonist explores. (I’m just calling the influencer the protagonist out of convenience. There is an argument that the NARRATOR is actually the protagonist, but let’s leave that for the moment.) After playing twice I can state there is no discernible effects those choices have on the narrative. Maybe a more rigorous exploration of the choice sequences might reveal something, but my playthroughs had identical feel both times despite different selection scheme. This raises the prospect that the narrator/author is also playing with US. That we have no more agency than the poor protagonist.

Protagonist, check. Player, check. Which leads us to the remaining of the gameplay troika: the narrator/author themselves. They periodically inject themselves (cued by nameless white text on black background) at first to comment on the proceedings, but increasingly to present unconnected musings about their life and artistic journey. The whole vibe is melancholic and relaxed. Like their motivations in this creation are little more than a pleasant boredom, a way to fill the time. If it sounds like I am poo-pooing it, I’m not. It was a fascinating mood to meander around in. I found it wonderfully reinforced by the graphical language of the thing. It hued from the Amazing World of Gumball school of design: a collection of COMPLETELY different artistic styles mashed together as a disjoint whole. This palette (including a female character with a male representation) seemed to underline the narrator’s enuii. Almost like they couldn’t be BOTHERED with a coherent visual palette and instead plopped down whatever placeholder flashed into their mind, so long as it was expedient. It really coalesced into a casual, reflective atmosphere, much more relaxed and ad hoc than the poor protagonist’s journey.

Along the way, there are some fun and confounding sound bites. I laughed out loud at “thank Google.” I was puzzled, and ultimately frustrated by trying to parse “reflection leads to addiction (and then death)”. But one in particular crystallized my experience of this work into something I could hold onto (paraphrasing):

“I don’t have a point. I just want to spend time with somebody.”

That sad, insightful line really summarized the experience of this narratively slight but emotionally evocative work for me. I don’t think Grimm’s Fairy Tales could accomplish THAT.