What begins as a walk in the desert unfolds, over just a few hours, into one of the most memorable games in years. Part nature film from another planet, part social experiment, “Journey” shares the organic, almost cosmic feeling of past greats like “Ecco the Dolphin,” but touches you on a much more human level.
The game accomplishes this by reversing most of the trends that have gunked up modern game development. Instead of an intelligence-insulting tutorial, the game drops you in an ocean of sand. There’s no explanation or backstory; only a mountain in the distance. Walking toward the mountain is no more mysterious a task than walking from left to right in “Super Mario Bros.” (That modern Mario games explain this is a tragedy.)
“Journey” also turns the concept of online gaming on its head. Early on in your trek to the mountain, you notice something: another cloaked figure, trying to accomplish the same task. Your only form of communication — other than your actions — is a vocalized tone akin to a low marimba note. No looking up the person’s username, typing commands to them or shouting into a headset.
Designer Jenova Chen, a rare auteur in an industry that’s even more commercial than movies, explains: The game is “about two strangers who meet online. They don’t know who they are or how old they are. All they know is, that is another human being.”
| ‘Journey’ |
| » System: PS3 |
| » Price: $14.99 |
| » Rating: 5 out of 5 stars |
The game engineers numerous incentives to work with that other human being. Some puzzles can only be solved in tandem, and merely making contact gives both of you the brief ability to fly. But the most powerful incentive is the natural tendency to simply connect. The other night, I hit the vocalize button, with the idea this would signal to my partner to come over to where I was. The other person responded with two tones, and, checking whether it was a mere coincidence, I let out three. To my delight, four followed, and we continued the pattern back and forth.
When that guy (girl?) dropped out of the game, because he had homework to do, or she had to go work the night shift — who knows? — I was genuinely sad. I knew nothing about that person, yet felt I had met them.
Clocking in around three hours, “Journey” joins other download-only gems like “Limbo” that end before their time. But, powered by the freedom of anonymity, and challenging you to communicate without words, “Journey” leaves you with much more specific memories than games that are much longer. You walk away thinking not of the game objectives, but how you reached them, lending credence to those cheesy posters that say it’s not about the destination, but the journey. And with so many people to meet, no two journeys are the same.
