In 2005’s Psychonauts, protagonist Razputin sneaks into a summer camp for psychics in an attempt to fast-track his way towards his heroes: The Psychonauts — a team of psychic spies as valiant as they are powerful. Throughout the game we jump into and out of the minds of counselors, fellow campers, and more with each mind boasting a unique platforming experience that presents a tight juxtaposition between theme and gameplay. All the while we hear tales of the Psychonauts’ triumphs on the world stage from Raz as he continues to get embroiled in a psychic conundrum of his own, eventually leading to his becoming a Psychonaut himself. It’s a good video game!
But it’s in 2021’s sequel that Raz discovers the minds of the seven founding members of the Psychonauts — the ones he’s idolized and whose adventures he’s memorized after a childhood spent reading comic book chronologies — are as susceptible to the struggles of daily life as the minds of those he’d explored in his own summer camp exploits. In a crucial acknowledgment of the real world’s greater emphasis on mental health awareness and acceptance since 2005, everything about the game’s subject matter and mechanics (including the very act of jumping into someone’s mind without consent) is both questioned and explored to its fullest extent. It’s an even better video game.
And I think “better” may be the perfect word to describe the difference between the two games. As much as I loved Psychonauts in 2005, it had a tendency to occasionally be mean and almost revel in mental health struggles to make its cerebral worlds more vibrant and exciting. A sequence of levels spent in “Thorney Towers Home For the Disturbed” feels especially troubling these days, sending Raz into the minds of various inmates struggling with a multitude of mental and behavioral disorders. The oft-cited and applauded “Milkman Conspiracy” involves wandering around the mind of a milk delivery man named Boyd who is suffering from paranoid delusion and lives in a world twisted into an almost indefinable shape. While celebrated at the time, it’s upon reflection that levels such as these admittedly lack the empathy needed to properly handle such difficult topics. Psychonauts 2 by comparison has empathy in spades, and marries that empathy with its design to be better than the original in every way.
Hope and irreverence permeate every decision of this game. Even in its darker moments Psychonauts 2 manages to strike an extraordinary balance between exploring mental health struggles in a way that takes them seriously, while also not crushing the player beneath their weight. It’s a tight-rope act that never once falters in its twenty hour story, and culminates in level design even more tightly constructed and considered than the first. While diving into the minds of the Psychonauts’ founding members, Raz finds himself face to face with versions of his heroes who have been hollowed out by time and the weight of the sacrifices they’ve made to repeatedly save the world. In its deftest moments, the game understands that acknowledging a struggle can be as difficult as seeking a path through it.
Thankfully, the core of Psychonauts 2 is a message that rings out confidently: No matter what you’re going through, it’s okay to ask for help. Raz, although imperfect in his own ways, is willing and able to be a supportive force at any stage of the healing process from forgiveness of the self to the forgiveness of others. The truth, brilliantly explored in multiple key moments, is that although antagonism and hate can come from within, these feelings alone don’t make an antagonist. In fact, they’re a natural part of life if accepted, understood, and managed with care. Psychonauts 2 wants you to know that your struggle doesn’t define you. Accepting others and accepting yourself are two sides of the same conflict, but by doing both you can set off a chain reaction that makes the world a better place — with or without psychic espionage.
But it’s in 2021’s sequel that Raz discovers the minds of the seven founding members of the Psychonauts — the ones he’s idolized and whose adventures he’s memorized after a childhood spent reading comic book chronologies — are as susceptible to the struggles of daily life as the minds of those he’d explored in his own summer camp exploits. In a crucial acknowledgment of the real world’s greater emphasis on mental health awareness and acceptance since 2005, everything about the game’s subject matter and mechanics (including the very act of jumping into someone’s mind without consent) is both questioned and explored to its fullest extent. It’s an even better video game.
And I think “better” may be the perfect word to describe the difference between the two games. As much as I loved Psychonauts in 2005, it had a tendency to occasionally be mean and almost revel in mental health struggles to make its cerebral worlds more vibrant and exciting. A sequence of levels spent in “Thorney Towers Home For the Disturbed” feels especially troubling these days, sending Raz into the minds of various inmates struggling with a multitude of mental and behavioral disorders. The oft-cited and applauded “Milkman Conspiracy” involves wandering around the mind of a milk delivery man named Boyd who is suffering from paranoid delusion and lives in a world twisted into an almost indefinable shape. While celebrated at the time, it’s upon reflection that levels such as these admittedly lack the empathy needed to properly handle such difficult topics. Psychonauts 2 by comparison has empathy in spades, and marries that empathy with its design to be better than the original in every way.
Hope and irreverence permeate every decision of this game. Even in its darker moments Psychonauts 2 manages to strike an extraordinary balance between exploring mental health struggles in a way that takes them seriously, while also not crushing the player beneath their weight. It’s a tight-rope act that never once falters in its twenty hour story, and culminates in level design even more tightly constructed and considered than the first. While diving into the minds of the Psychonauts’ founding members, Raz finds himself face to face with versions of his heroes who have been hollowed out by time and the weight of the sacrifices they’ve made to repeatedly save the world. In its deftest moments, the game understands that acknowledging a struggle can be as difficult as seeking a path through it.
Thankfully, the core of Psychonauts 2 is a message that rings out confidently: No matter what you’re going through, it’s okay to ask for help. Raz, although imperfect in his own ways, is willing and able to be a supportive force at any stage of the healing process from forgiveness of the self to the forgiveness of others. The truth, brilliantly explored in multiple key moments, is that although antagonism and hate can come from within, these feelings alone don’t make an antagonist. In fact, they’re a natural part of life if accepted, understood, and managed with care. Psychonauts 2 wants you to know that your struggle doesn’t define you. Accepting others and accepting yourself are two sides of the same conflict, but by doing both you can set off a chain reaction that makes the world a better place — with or without psychic espionage.