What is pulp fiction, really? Officially, you have the basic practical facts. Affordable magazines on cheap paper, short stories in dime stores and newspaper racks. Quick entertainment. Your penny dreadfuls, your airport novels, your Simple2000 series games or shovelware. Cheap, affordable trash is the market, its what people expect. Cliches are expected and encouraged. Pulp is commonly considered to be exactly that: easily consumed garbage with not a lot of diamond in the rough.
Modern pixel games have emerged for a lot of different reasons. Nostalgia is absolutely a key factor, appealing directly to the gaming market as it currently exists. But its also affordable. 3D games are expensive. As its been described to me, one character model alone can take up to a year depending on the complexity required. Psychonauts 2 was originally planned to have new bosses due to extreme costs, prior to Microsoft providing additional funding. Pixel Art, while requiring its own level of care and dedication, is easier to build in a short amount of time.
Mothmen 1966 describes itself as a “pixel pulp.” It’s certainly affordable enough at $8.99 American dollars. It’s short enough to finish in two hours. It features a small cast of characters against a horror antagonist. The game is made of pixels. In the most literal terms, you could call it a pulp adventure.
But it’s still a description that forced me to think a lot about how we define genre. Mothmen 1966 centers on three protagonists. Lee, the college boy with anger issues and fighting against his own ingrained masculinity issues. Victoria, the college girl staring down the barrel of the rest of her life and deciphering if she’s ready to commit to one decision out of her very limited 1960s decisions. Harold, the crochety gas station owner trying to take care of his grandmother and make ends meet. Ten chapters with a switching perspective, as the trio find themselves trapped by supernatural forces they can barely comprehend. Much of their previous interpersonal struggles get pushed to the wayside as the stakes dramatically shift their priorities. Which felt honest. Felt real. There’s no time for tidy endings, just characters sitting in their odd status quos and deciding This Is How Things Have To Be for now.
But is it pulp? By the market definition, probably close enough. It delights in the aesthetics of pixel and pulp eras. It’s not particularly seedy or scandalous, but its coated in harsh, green tones. But is that aesthetic in itself what pulp means? Is it a positive or negative description?
A friend of mine argued that pulp requires sincerity. Its full of cliches and scattershot writing, but the most important quality is that the people writing the story enjoy doing it. That one is hard to measure too. Mothmen 1966 is grim and contemplative, sitting within these complicated emotional contexts and not providing concrete answers. But the effort into its narration and visual work is gripping. The team must have enjoyed working on it enough to make three “pixel pulps” this year. But is sincerity the centerpiece of it all?
Here's what I know for certain. I thoroughly enjoyed the two hours of Mothmen 1966. The characters were interesting, the story was fun, and the time was well spent.
Maybe that’s all pulp really needs to be.
Modern pixel games have emerged for a lot of different reasons. Nostalgia is absolutely a key factor, appealing directly to the gaming market as it currently exists. But its also affordable. 3D games are expensive. As its been described to me, one character model alone can take up to a year depending on the complexity required. Psychonauts 2 was originally planned to have new bosses due to extreme costs, prior to Microsoft providing additional funding. Pixel Art, while requiring its own level of care and dedication, is easier to build in a short amount of time.
Mothmen 1966 describes itself as a “pixel pulp.” It’s certainly affordable enough at $8.99 American dollars. It’s short enough to finish in two hours. It features a small cast of characters against a horror antagonist. The game is made of pixels. In the most literal terms, you could call it a pulp adventure.
But it’s still a description that forced me to think a lot about how we define genre. Mothmen 1966 centers on three protagonists. Lee, the college boy with anger issues and fighting against his own ingrained masculinity issues. Victoria, the college girl staring down the barrel of the rest of her life and deciphering if she’s ready to commit to one decision out of her very limited 1960s decisions. Harold, the crochety gas station owner trying to take care of his grandmother and make ends meet. Ten chapters with a switching perspective, as the trio find themselves trapped by supernatural forces they can barely comprehend. Much of their previous interpersonal struggles get pushed to the wayside as the stakes dramatically shift their priorities. Which felt honest. Felt real. There’s no time for tidy endings, just characters sitting in their odd status quos and deciding This Is How Things Have To Be for now.
But is it pulp? By the market definition, probably close enough. It delights in the aesthetics of pixel and pulp eras. It’s not particularly seedy or scandalous, but its coated in harsh, green tones. But is that aesthetic in itself what pulp means? Is it a positive or negative description?
A friend of mine argued that pulp requires sincerity. Its full of cliches and scattershot writing, but the most important quality is that the people writing the story enjoy doing it. That one is hard to measure too. Mothmen 1966 is grim and contemplative, sitting within these complicated emotional contexts and not providing concrete answers. But the effort into its narration and visual work is gripping. The team must have enjoyed working on it enough to make three “pixel pulps” this year. But is sincerity the centerpiece of it all?
Here's what I know for certain. I thoroughly enjoyed the two hours of Mothmen 1966. The characters were interesting, the story was fun, and the time was well spent.
Maybe that’s all pulp really needs to be.