Neyasnoe is a walking sim with a focus on post-soviet generational malaise - a deep dissatisfaction with life manifesting itself through apathy and escapism. Drinking and dancing. Wandering and, perhaps most importantly of all, zoning out.
There’s very little explicit story in Neyasnoe – small interactions with mostly single-lined NPCs make up the bulk of your interactions through the first two levels, though the game caps off its focus on loneliness and introspection in its final two acts, through a poetry reading and extended conversation with a taxi driver.
The game’s themes work best when implicit, rather than the exposition dumps that the aforementioned poetry and conversation confer. Instead, the game feels at its strongest when wandering the suburbs or the city, navigating back alleys and loud bars, eavesdropping on couples or friends as they try and untangle their unease in the company of another.
Standing at the outskirts of the town, with the buildings to your back, the world outside seems positively lunar. Gray buildings turn to equally gray topography with nary a remark, emphasizing the cold loneliness of it all. These same buildings too, seem to echo the warped structure of the institution of their birth, the polygons warping and curving upwards rather than following intended blocky lines.
There’s an innate haziness at the core of Neyasnoe that I am absolutely delighted by. Opening the skills menu to be greeted with loneliness, corporeality, and reflextion. Time and time again doors lead into impossible spaces, dumping you out in disparate corners of each level.
Neyasnoe embraces the inherent artifice of its design though, with the game divided into discrete “levels” - invisible walls made visible, striped in a banner of “you can’t be here”
Neyasnoe is utterly content with leaving everything to the player. There are no signposts, there are no explicit goals. You almost assuredly already understand if this is a game that will or will not work for you. If you’re okay with this, I think Neyasnoe is a fantastic entry into sadboi vibe pieces and would wholeheartedly recommend.
There’s very little explicit story in Neyasnoe – small interactions with mostly single-lined NPCs make up the bulk of your interactions through the first two levels, though the game caps off its focus on loneliness and introspection in its final two acts, through a poetry reading and extended conversation with a taxi driver.
The game’s themes work best when implicit, rather than the exposition dumps that the aforementioned poetry and conversation confer. Instead, the game feels at its strongest when wandering the suburbs or the city, navigating back alleys and loud bars, eavesdropping on couples or friends as they try and untangle their unease in the company of another.
Standing at the outskirts of the town, with the buildings to your back, the world outside seems positively lunar. Gray buildings turn to equally gray topography with nary a remark, emphasizing the cold loneliness of it all. These same buildings too, seem to echo the warped structure of the institution of their birth, the polygons warping and curving upwards rather than following intended blocky lines.
There’s an innate haziness at the core of Neyasnoe that I am absolutely delighted by. Opening the skills menu to be greeted with loneliness, corporeality, and reflextion. Time and time again doors lead into impossible spaces, dumping you out in disparate corners of each level.
Neyasnoe embraces the inherent artifice of its design though, with the game divided into discrete “levels” - invisible walls made visible, striped in a banner of “you can’t be here”
Neyasnoe is utterly content with leaving everything to the player. There are no signposts, there are no explicit goals. You almost assuredly already understand if this is a game that will or will not work for you. If you’re okay with this, I think Neyasnoe is a fantastic entry into sadboi vibe pieces and would wholeheartedly recommend.