6 reviews liked by Goose


its a humbling feeling to find a game that feels bigger than you

i dont even know where to start describing it. at its core, its a game about not understanding. the gameplay revolves around trying in vain to learn about your surroundings - to piece it all together and find a solution to a problem - only to die not because of a lack of trying, but because we just dont have the time.

the beauty of Outer Wilds lies right there. its galaxy is small, yet feels huge and only gets bigger the more you dig. by all means it should feel like a hopeless venture to continue exploring, but its too engaging not to. there is no end goal, and it makes no promises other than the fact you will die.

and the magic is that we did anyway. even if i didnt know what for, i kept exploring its planets to find its secrets. i felt giddiness meeting every character and hearing their stories. i pat myself on the back after solving puzzles once i asked the guy at the starting campfire how to.

Outer Wilds - despite playing as an alien - is a deeply human game. a journey about facing adversity through sheer willpower despite not having all the answers, and knowing youre not alone in that.

i cant do this game a service with my $5 speak and someone else could do a much better job, and thats ok. because like i said, this game - like its setting - is big. theres so much to talk about, yet its message is so precise. its mysteries are so complex, yet so simple in retrospect. games like these remind me how special this industry is, and what kind of art it can produce. Outer Wilds is a profound experience i likely wont forget for a very long time.

this game made me less afraid of death. there is no higher review i can give it.

Outer Wilds is the only game I can think of where within its first moments, I knew I was in for something very, very special without really understanding why. The title screen is already so inviting, with its gentle acoustic glow fading in over a collage of shimmering stars. The game opens, I wake up on my back, looking up into the sky to see something explode in the distant orbit of a giant, green planet deep in space, and my imagination is immediately captured. I feel an intangible warmth as I speak to my fellow Hearthians and wander our village, a sense of wonder and anticipation as I walk through our peoples' museum, learning about things that I realize I will inevitably have to face or utilize in the adventures ahead. All this before even seeing my ship, let alone blasting off with it into the far reaches of space.

The expectations and tone of Outer Wilds are set up pitch perfectly in this opening. On the whole, the game captures the innate desire we all have to learn more, to reach out for what's next, even if we have no idea what it is we are searching for or why we seek it. It's the only thing Outer Wilds relies on to lead players forward. There are no objectives or goals, no waypoints to show you where to go next; there only those which you create for yourself. What drives us forward is the need to understand the world(s) around us, or at least attempt to understand. Is there a more human desire than that?

Outer Wilds is a masterpiece for its many balances: of warmth and intimacy with the melancholic loneliness of space; a constant sense of wonder with an equally constant fear of the unknown; its charming, colorful art style with its hard, scientific approach; its reverence for the teachings of both classical and quantum physics; its personal, micro-level character stories set against the fate of the universe. The list goes on. And that's without even mentioning the game's emotional linchpin: Andrew Prahlow's incredible score, a healthy mix of folk, ambient and post-rock that is a delicate tight-wire act in and of itself, managing to capture both the vastness of space and the intimate glow of a campfire without compromise.

Whatever feelings Outer Wilds brought out of me in its opening moments were only further heightened and more deeply understood as I began unraveling the mysteries of its clockwork solar system, spiraling faster and faster towards an ending that left me in awe of everything that came before it and soon yearning for other experiences that could fill the black hole that the game's sudden absence left in place of my heart. Outer Wilds is not only a perfect game, but also one of the medium's purest expressions of its most inspiring possibilities. If only I could breathe out a sigh of relief and wake up on Timber Hearth for the first time again.

Outer Wilds is a one-of-a-kind experience for me in a million different ways.

When the main theme played on the title screen, I was excited that it had good music. When the intro had me waking up by a campfire with an alien buddy and a "Roast Marshmallow" prompt, I knew it had charmed me. When I jumped for the first time and noticed it "simulated" a squat by requiring a hold and release to get maximum height, I suspected I was in for an all-timer.

The next 30 hours proved that my suspicion was correct.

Everything about Outer Wilds is made with such love that I'm overwhelmed just thinking about it. The movement and physics ooze a frantic, cackling glee at their own barely contained chaos. The writing and story make otherwise voiceless or long-dead characters have beating hearts. The art direction and world designs create such scale and beauty that it's impossible not to stare in awe. The music is so unbelievably perfect that, in many ways, it is the game. And the actual process of going places, learning things, and putting all the pieces together in your head is so finely tuned that you probably won't even notice it's happening.

And all of it leads up to an ending that somehow manages to confidently leap over the unrealistically high bar the rest of the game sets for it.

I have thought about this game every day for over two years. Just listening to the soundtrack is enough to make me start crying (in a good way). It's impossible for me to exaggerate how good I think this game is because my honest thoughts already sound like they're an absurd exaggeration. So the best I can do is say that Outer Wilds is my favorite game of all time and I love it deeply.

So if you play Outer Wilds, I hope you'll love it too.

This game now makes me permanently livid when I go back to the Witcher 3 and Geralt activates his witcher sense to tell me that the monster footprints look like they were left behind by a monster.