The two previous works from Jeppe Carlsen—Limbo and Inside— are about humans. Two kids to be exact. They infiltrate a facility of some sorts to find something, they see very fucked up stuff, they die a lot in gruesome ways. There is something to get attached to there: you see a human and you see them die and go "fuck, that's brutal." At the end, after everything they went through, you think "it must have been for something" and start to imagine things in your head. You begin to make theories. I have my own about both games. The issue with those games for me, however, was that theories would always get cut short. Because everything in there is about humans, things are human-made, things are within the sphere of human understanding.
Cocoon is a game about fucko aliens watching other fucko aliens, beating up fucko aliens, turning into even more fucked up fucko aliens. There is almost nothing human to attach to. There's little guys that follow you around or these big bosses, but these shapes, movements, creatures, they're not anything I can point my finger towards to and go "ah, that came from this." Sometimes it has spider legs, but then it is stuck inside some weirdo crystal and makes brain mass pulsate on the floor. Sometimes it has tentacles but then it's also kind of a plant of some sorts? I just can't really explain anything.
All that's sort of human is that there are answers to the puzzles. Everything is designed, but none of it really operates logically. Things inside things, thing inside itself, things moving between different worlds or realities in ways they seemingly shouldn't. Things materialize and dematerialize, and there is consistency to everything. There is some plan. This game has an ending, your character has an end-goal. Maybe logic is not human after all. The universe existed before us, and it worked in its own way. Maybe logic is inherent. So is there anything human here?
It is on the player to insert that humanity into this game somehow. Thinking about this game as I played it, I have not really encountered a stopping point yet the same way there is with Limbo (the girl must mean something to the main character) or Inside (the creature you become at the end must mean something to the scientists and this facility, as well as the whole meta-narrative), though maybe I will, given that the game does have an ending. But not for now.
There is some form of infinity to this game's alien presentation. The little sound effects of the metal wings or the cybernetics of the robobuds make things feel tactile, familiar, but its constant reliance on the unfamiliar and that cool as fuck ending make it feel infinite in scale. It feels like I can reach into this game and it will keep on giving for a long time. Time will tell, but this is a far more interesting feeling, far more special feeling than anything these types of games have ever given me before. An interaction between the player and the game that doesn't feel gamey. Something truly special.
Cocoon is a game about fucko aliens watching other fucko aliens, beating up fucko aliens, turning into even more fucked up fucko aliens. There is almost nothing human to attach to. There's little guys that follow you around or these big bosses, but these shapes, movements, creatures, they're not anything I can point my finger towards to and go "ah, that came from this." Sometimes it has spider legs, but then it is stuck inside some weirdo crystal and makes brain mass pulsate on the floor. Sometimes it has tentacles but then it's also kind of a plant of some sorts? I just can't really explain anything.
All that's sort of human is that there are answers to the puzzles. Everything is designed, but none of it really operates logically. Things inside things, thing inside itself, things moving between different worlds or realities in ways they seemingly shouldn't. Things materialize and dematerialize, and there is consistency to everything. There is some plan. This game has an ending, your character has an end-goal. Maybe logic is not human after all. The universe existed before us, and it worked in its own way. Maybe logic is inherent. So is there anything human here?
It is on the player to insert that humanity into this game somehow. Thinking about this game as I played it, I have not really encountered a stopping point yet the same way there is with Limbo (the girl must mean something to the main character) or Inside (the creature you become at the end must mean something to the scientists and this facility, as well as the whole meta-narrative), though maybe I will, given that the game does have an ending. But not for now.
There is some form of infinity to this game's alien presentation. The little sound effects of the metal wings or the cybernetics of the robobuds make things feel tactile, familiar, but its constant reliance on the unfamiliar and that cool as fuck ending make it feel infinite in scale. It feels like I can reach into this game and it will keep on giving for a long time. Time will tell, but this is a far more interesting feeling, far more special feeling than anything these types of games have ever given me before. An interaction between the player and the game that doesn't feel gamey. Something truly special.