The history behind and outside of Journey it’s almost as enthralling at the game itself; Chris Bell, former producer and designer at ThatGameCompany, has told of the anecdote of the time he got lost in Japan during a trip to the country, and it was the kindness of a woman that, without ex-changing any words and by Bell only showing her a photo, grabbed him by the arm and lead him to its destination. Personal experiences giving new design ideas is nothing rare in the videogame medium or in any form of art as a whole, but it’s clear that this experience stuck with Chris Bell on deep level; he would go on to make Way cooperative online game where two players have to interact and help each other to reach the end without using any words. If this idea sounds oddly familiar… well… makes sense, as it was most likely developed either before or after a game he worked that would release just a year after Way, one that would through the company though a spiral of development hell and complications… and one that would change and inspire so many to go through their own journey.

But I’m getting ahead of myself with the melodramatics (yes, this is going to be one of those), ‘cause when I said the outside history of the game is really interesting, I meant it; Journey was the third game to be developed by ThatGameCompany under their contract with Sony Interactive Studios, it was going to have a 1 year development cycle with a team of merely 7 people and none never really managed to settle on an idea aside of Bell’s concept, Jenova Chen’s direction and that it was going to have some kind of online component, I would love to tell you that development went smooth as butter, but the paper that I got regarding that only said ‘’shit is fucked’’. The team increased from 7 participants to 18, and the expected 1 year development cycle turned into an almost 3 year race against the clock where that company almost had to face absolute financial loss. To say that everyone that had a hand in the game had to face hardship would be an understatement, and Journey had to go through many changes and cuts before it became the final product we know today… but one thing that really struck me as I read interviews and behind the scenes accounts is that, despite the absolute hell and pressure and pain, everyone involved loves Journey, not in a sense that they feel proud in making it after the fact, but rather that the team really wanted to make this game something really special, and it caused them as much pain to see some ideas not be realized (in fact extra hours were CUT both to avoid tensions and so that the money could go to the game itself) as it generated within them a profound happiness to play for themselves they very thing they all worked together to create; and all of this story and knowing all of this background makes it unbelievable to me that the game that we ended up getting is as majestic as it is… and makes it easier to drawn some strange yet beautiful parallelisms with the game itself. While you can throw out names like accomplishment like Chris Bell coming up with the original idea or Jenova Chen’s fantastic direction, I think no one single participant is solely responsible for the game we got, nor the story of Journey seems to be conceived as a parallelism of one person or the team’s feelings at the moment of making it; it’s the accomplishment of a team of a few passionate people that even with misunderstandings and difficulties along the way, worked together for what they thought it was worth making, and funnily enough, I believe it was that search of ideas until something clicked and the cuts so that that the game could release… what would end up making it so beautiful.

Journey is a short and simple voyage across an endless desert, and even if across all of the experience it feels profoundly quiet and humble, it could say to me at the start ‘’Hold on to your seat motherducker, you are about to get journeyed’’ and I wouldn’t complain a bit, like, hell yeah man this is amazing, you earned yourself some arrogance and showing off!... But no, it never does that, Journey, even at its most spectacular and bombastic, it always feels… nice, it feels self-contained and just… striking and pretty. It’s honestly really funny to go from the hopeless and dead wasteland of It Comes in Waves to the constantly changing and colorful dunes of Journey; melancholy is a sentiment present in each ‘’level’’, this constant reminder of something that was once grander than life and prospered now is abandoned and left in ruin, but this sensations meld with the wonder and mystery that each locations inspires; even when it gets scary, this sensation of hopeful adventure and that the end is at hand is ever-present, and it helps that you feel like you are a part of all of this despite you limited available actions. Moving and emitting sounds are your only tools that are always at your disposal, as jumping (or rather, flying) is only granted to you by the flying particles fabric and the strange creatures also seemingly made of the same fabric, and it’s that exact dependance of the environment and your interactions, that necessity of analyzing the ruins that surround you and guessing what to do next while never feeling unnatural or challenging, it what makes it so compelling to explore everything, and it’s what made me submerge in this world, in its sounds and music and in its wordless sad tragedy… well, that’s not entirely true. This is a mountain that can be climb alone, yes… but isn’t it nice to have someone by your side?

Co-op in Journey has little-to-none extrinsic value: at no point there is a puzzle or some kind of platforming challenge that requires two players to complete it, there may be the occasional section where two players might be able to accomplish a task faster than if it was only one, but Journey is so linear in most of its sections than it never really accomplishes anything in the grander scheme thing… and that’s precisely the point. Even going beyond and ignoring the fact that someday Journey will be impossible to play online (even if luckily that fate seems far off from today), at a purely the level, that it’s not the point of this co-op. Other players appear as you advance in your adventure, as if you were encountering other travelers in a long route, and… it feels almost like magic. No words are needed, the only for of communication are the sounds you can emit, and this strange language means nothing… and everything at the same time. The boops that respond to the tooms, the high sounds you can make by maintaining the button pressed that grant the other player energy to fly that almost feel like hugs, and sometimes the sounds aren’t even needed: the kindness of waiting for each other, other players showing you the location of secrets you couldn’t even imagine… You form a connection with people you don’t even know their Steam name until the game is over, let alone talk, and that’s something beyond my wildest imaginations of what a game could ever accomplish, and turns moments that on their own have a ton of impact and emotional charge, into some of the most memorable experiences I have seen in the entirety of the media, and it turns the hopeless into the hopeful.


Journey came out in a time where both players and game journalist seemingly threw their arms up and screamed desperate to prove that videogames were art, when many games had long released and proved it by that time, and while now we turn back upon how we looked at certain games in a different light, not only now I understand how and why Journey was held in such high regards, but also why it inspired an entire generation of games inspired by its ideals and how the game itself is so special. It isn’t the first contemplative game, it isn’t a game that shakes the videogame industry as we know it, it isn’t the definitive proof that games are art… but it a damn good example of it, it’s a fantastic example of how the conditions that both inspire a work and under the ones it’s made can make it so unique and fascinating. Journey is a treasure, one that understandably isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and people have smarter than me have already sing their praises and problems with it; in that sense, I’m a passerby, one that’s incredibly happy of walking this amazing road and sharing it with the strangers that put a huge smile on my face, and even with the adversities that came before, during and after it, is one I will walk again, I have no doubt about it in the slightest… and hey, I might not have cried, but that didn’t stop from knowing that yeah… that was lovely.