Talk about breathtaking. As a purveyor and hobbyist of many parts of games--narrative, artistic vision, and game design--I always find that the best games exist at the crossroad where the three interact. This has led to a deep appreciation of "walking simulator" games that strike a particular chord within the first two elements, but I find that many fail in the third. Many of these games don't need to be fun, but I find myself conflicted, as many don't use the medium to their advantage. Games like the library of dead-and-revived studio Telltale Games somehow manage to fail on two, or even all three of those elements, struggling to find a purposeful, interesting narrative within empty, droll design. The episodic format of the games seems to be an ironic nail in the coffin of quality, as I find myself wondering a lot "why isn't this just a TV show?"
Meanwhile, a game like 2018's What Remains of Edith Finch excels brilliantly on all three elements of design. Magnificent art direction and a gorgeous environment, a beautiful, emotional, heartbreaking, and personal narrative, and a perfect integration of that narrative with the player "experience." Abzu, in a way, feels like a video game adaptation of David Attenborough's Blue Planet docuseries. Directed by ex-thatgamecompany art director Matt Nava and developed alongside many jack-of-all-trades industry veterans, Abzu is, in many ways, a spiritual successor to Journey. Lush veins and forests of seaweed populate an ocean of light, surrounded by shades of blue-green water, as schools of fish swim around, wandering and passing by your characters path. We start at the top of the ocean, cresting above the surface of the waves, descending back into the water below. As the game progresses, we gradually descend deeper and deeper into the ocean, as the story and direction takes a deeper and darker turn.
As the narrative moves forward, those lush kelp forests turn into stunning coral colonies, with huge, porous shells and structures dominating the floor of the reef. Sharks and rays swim gently through the baby-blue water as various wreckages of ancient civilizations peer halfway out of the sand (these structures provide a somewhat "collectible" goal for anyone interested in replaying the game). Gradually, the light blue shifts to a deeper blue as we descend into the depths of the ocean, where light fades and titanic marine animals dwell. Massive blue whales wade through the deep as their calls echo throughout the ocean. Sharks guide you to sprawling, ancient wells that replenish life and energy to the ocean, revitalizing the environment of the sea. Deeper and deeper the game moves as the naturalistic environments switch to cold, harsh, red-orange-black waters, exposing terrifying machinery at the bottom of the ocean floor.
These diverse and frequently changing environments are the heart of what makes Abzu such a stunning game. Without a single word of dialogue or a single word of text, the game still manages to propose and present a brilliant, emotional story. It's not unlike games such as Dark Souls or its predecessor Journey, where environmental storytelling is the name of the game. Certainly, it doesn't do much with that story, but the short runtime prevents the simplistic gameplay and exploration from growing stale or tiring. The linear design prevents confusion, annoyance, or frustration with the game's exploration, and the integration of small naturalistic elements to guide the player goes a long way towards preventing the game's pacing from stagnating.
In retrospect, this is an excellent addition to the recent hot genre of minimalistic and artistically-driven games. Abzu's art direction is certainly one of its foremost standout features, and it's likely what propelled the game to much of its success (alongside Nava's association with Journey). It manages to be accessible to a wide variety of players and is sure to be enjoyed by anyone who's open to playing these types of games.
Meanwhile, a game like 2018's What Remains of Edith Finch excels brilliantly on all three elements of design. Magnificent art direction and a gorgeous environment, a beautiful, emotional, heartbreaking, and personal narrative, and a perfect integration of that narrative with the player "experience." Abzu, in a way, feels like a video game adaptation of David Attenborough's Blue Planet docuseries. Directed by ex-thatgamecompany art director Matt Nava and developed alongside many jack-of-all-trades industry veterans, Abzu is, in many ways, a spiritual successor to Journey. Lush veins and forests of seaweed populate an ocean of light, surrounded by shades of blue-green water, as schools of fish swim around, wandering and passing by your characters path. We start at the top of the ocean, cresting above the surface of the waves, descending back into the water below. As the game progresses, we gradually descend deeper and deeper into the ocean, as the story and direction takes a deeper and darker turn.
As the narrative moves forward, those lush kelp forests turn into stunning coral colonies, with huge, porous shells and structures dominating the floor of the reef. Sharks and rays swim gently through the baby-blue water as various wreckages of ancient civilizations peer halfway out of the sand (these structures provide a somewhat "collectible" goal for anyone interested in replaying the game). Gradually, the light blue shifts to a deeper blue as we descend into the depths of the ocean, where light fades and titanic marine animals dwell. Massive blue whales wade through the deep as their calls echo throughout the ocean. Sharks guide you to sprawling, ancient wells that replenish life and energy to the ocean, revitalizing the environment of the sea. Deeper and deeper the game moves as the naturalistic environments switch to cold, harsh, red-orange-black waters, exposing terrifying machinery at the bottom of the ocean floor.
These diverse and frequently changing environments are the heart of what makes Abzu such a stunning game. Without a single word of dialogue or a single word of text, the game still manages to propose and present a brilliant, emotional story. It's not unlike games such as Dark Souls or its predecessor Journey, where environmental storytelling is the name of the game. Certainly, it doesn't do much with that story, but the short runtime prevents the simplistic gameplay and exploration from growing stale or tiring. The linear design prevents confusion, annoyance, or frustration with the game's exploration, and the integration of small naturalistic elements to guide the player goes a long way towards preventing the game's pacing from stagnating.
In retrospect, this is an excellent addition to the recent hot genre of minimalistic and artistically-driven games. Abzu's art direction is certainly one of its foremost standout features, and it's likely what propelled the game to much of its success (alongside Nava's association with Journey). It manages to be accessible to a wide variety of players and is sure to be enjoyed by anyone who's open to playing these types of games.