You know that feeling you get when you read a book, see a movie, hear a song...and you think, wow, this [insert] was made for
me? It just fires on all cylinders for the particular molecular makeup that is your curse/blessing in this given world?
Well, I haven't felt it for a while. I'm afeared that's a result of getting older, "growing up", being just a smidgen less receptive to experiencing a work of art for the first time without the "maturity"-imposed matrices for parsing who "made" it (where they come from, what their circumstances were, their limitations, personal hangups, financial situation, patrons real or imagined, etc.) that tend to hang around once you realize it's merely (wo)men who create things less than the universe entire, however direct and uncluttered their connection to the divine may chance to be.
The closest I've come to that kind of relationship with art in, geez, I dunno..."a long time", or something, was tonight. And it wasn't a book, a movie or a song.
It was a videogame.
Thing's called
Samorost, and I'm gonna go against my nature here by resisting the urge to look up all the details on who exactly was involved with getting it out there, in the hopes of improving my chances at preserving mystery (and gratitude) for the fruit of their efforts. I know the folks responsible are European, at least. They like imagining things, and they have a kind sense of humor, and they understand game design better than most, and they were likely stoners at one point or another.
Their creation is a dead-simple, point-and-click online game (one part
Flash, another part still-frame beauty) where you explore a whimsical alien environment, observe what's happening, and solve cute little puzzles that help you access the next area(s) - in these cases (there are two installments: a trippy original outing that might be especially resonant with the aid of a psychedelic substance of your choice, and a more literal but nonetheless more thematically compact sequel) to improve your chances of saving your odd little homeworld or, even better, your dog.
I have my reservations, of course. There're some puzzles played less intuitive for me, but that likely says more about this overly-critical bundle of molecules than the design itself. And I had to realign my mind to take on the role of a theoretically omniscient God-entity who can modify elements of the gamespace arguably not accessible by my goofy little avatar (whom I came to care about, I'll point out - possibly the highest accolade anyone could afford a videogame, after all). I'm accustomed to playing *as* the character in the space. Here, you're more an audience, but you can
facilitate the story (and story there is, I'll be damned, in the most minute dances of cause and effect between various creatures and their respective environments; you'll need to affect both to succeed in your quest). If you can let go an insistence on naysaying logistics and "realism", you'll see playing Samorost is not unlike interacting with a dream.
I'm not sure I have any greater praise for art.
I appreciate dreams, see.
So do check it out, if you're game for this kinda game, and for those of you with children, I urge you play it together. It's appropriate for all ages, indeed, and somehow I
know I might certainly have tapped older wells of ingenuity in solving the bugger, had I been just a few decades closer to when I entered this life. More neighbor to when the world was a startlingly open, curious and wondrous place...with nothing but possibility to suggest its edges.
I also dare you not to pay the beyond-reasonable price of around eight bucks to enjoy the third piece of the puzzle, once you've navigated the FREE
Samorost 1 and the portion of
numero two that's open to everyone. There wasn't really a choice, for me.
Bless these folks. It's a charming diversion.
And thanks to the internet, for another anagram post title. ;)
And kudos to Amo, who posted this game to CM two years ago! (I didn't play it then, but I'm inclined to guess, as always, the timing is better now than I might think.)
-Reese
Labels: art, interweb, videogames
