There's plenty of well-written games out there. But it's rare to run into amazingly written ones. Games where just the prose, coupled with some great audiovisual presentation of course, can get you so deeply enthralled that you forget everything else and become a sponge, trying to absorb as much of its world as you can. Games where you feel like you everything you do holds its own little meaning.
Norco is one such game, but it's also imperfect, in many ways. None that are immediately apparent, Norco sounds, looks and reads great. But there's a couple things that feel like they don't belong. There's combat, for starters. You'll get in about... four, five fights in the whole game? They're all really easy and not a bother, it's just weird. The story feels oddly paced, disinterested in its main plot at first, only to become much more linear and fast-paced near the halfway point. There's still a good amount of things you can miss, but the freedom of choice that I really fucked with vanishes kinda quickly.
Perhaps the biggest flaw is that the game's themes, as pointed out by others, don't feel as cohesive as they should. The first half of the game is clearly about modern society and capitalism, while the second is more spiritual and symbolic (with a long detour in the middle about cults, which I feel is the worst part of the game). Both of those two halves, taken individually, are executed in a pretty gnarly way, but when looked at in the context of a single story, I genuinely struggle to see a throughline.
And that's a damn shame, because I'm a loser who likes to feel smart, and when I don't "get it", I feel non-smart. It's hard for me to let go of the idea that every game needs to "mean" something. So, let's try, spoilers ahead. I think this is a game about trying to find your own purpose and how difficult and possibly fruitless it is in today's world. The protagonist's mother gives up her past as a free spirit to try and make some dough for her family in her last days. Million, the family robot, can't ultimately escape her programmed purpose (I think? She deserved a better conclusion man, she was so cool and then got killed off abruptly. A fucking crime I tell ya). The Garrets are all looking for some purpose in the most toxic way, first starting some cult and eventually just trying to shoot themselves into space. Superduck is a hive mind of gigantic proportions, bending nature to its will, and is punished with a horrible death. Pawpaw forces all of your family into some preordained Da Vinci Code religious bullshit, with your final action being to just escape from it. It's about trying to find a little bit of freedom in a world that that keeps applying a more and more suffocating stranglehold on to you.
Or you know, it's about something else and I just made all of the above up. Even if I'm right, I don't know if it's supposed to end on a more hopeful note, or a sour one. Norco hurts, because it's so close to being an absolute classic for me, so close to having just the right symbolism. Or maybe I'm the one who's so close to finding the perfect way to look at it to let it blow my mind as it deserves. I don't know.
"We're all trapped in this limbo. A long twilight that bleeds out to the edges of time where even the most fantastic things become banal. This grey blanket of stale time. Stagnant, lonely time. To puncture it... To punch a hole in it. I understand the appeal. I do."
Norco is one such game, but it's also imperfect, in many ways. None that are immediately apparent, Norco sounds, looks and reads great. But there's a couple things that feel like they don't belong. There's combat, for starters. You'll get in about... four, five fights in the whole game? They're all really easy and not a bother, it's just weird. The story feels oddly paced, disinterested in its main plot at first, only to become much more linear and fast-paced near the halfway point. There's still a good amount of things you can miss, but the freedom of choice that I really fucked with vanishes kinda quickly.
Perhaps the biggest flaw is that the game's themes, as pointed out by others, don't feel as cohesive as they should. The first half of the game is clearly about modern society and capitalism, while the second is more spiritual and symbolic (with a long detour in the middle about cults, which I feel is the worst part of the game). Both of those two halves, taken individually, are executed in a pretty gnarly way, but when looked at in the context of a single story, I genuinely struggle to see a throughline.
And that's a damn shame, because I'm a loser who likes to feel smart, and when I don't "get it", I feel non-smart. It's hard for me to let go of the idea that every game needs to "mean" something. So, let's try, spoilers ahead. I think this is a game about trying to find your own purpose and how difficult and possibly fruitless it is in today's world. The protagonist's mother gives up her past as a free spirit to try and make some dough for her family in her last days. Million, the family robot, can't ultimately escape her programmed purpose (I think? She deserved a better conclusion man, she was so cool and then got killed off abruptly. A fucking crime I tell ya). The Garrets are all looking for some purpose in the most toxic way, first starting some cult and eventually just trying to shoot themselves into space. Superduck is a hive mind of gigantic proportions, bending nature to its will, and is punished with a horrible death. Pawpaw forces all of your family into some preordained Da Vinci Code religious bullshit, with your final action being to just escape from it. It's about trying to find a little bit of freedom in a world that that keeps applying a more and more suffocating stranglehold on to you.
Or you know, it's about something else and I just made all of the above up. Even if I'm right, I don't know if it's supposed to end on a more hopeful note, or a sour one. Norco hurts, because it's so close to being an absolute classic for me, so close to having just the right symbolism. Or maybe I'm the one who's so close to finding the perfect way to look at it to let it blow my mind as it deserves. I don't know.
"We're all trapped in this limbo. A long twilight that bleeds out to the edges of time where even the most fantastic things become banal. This grey blanket of stale time. Stagnant, lonely time. To puncture it... To punch a hole in it. I understand the appeal. I do."