I think about this game every day and still find myself humming the Traveler's Theme; Andrew Prahlow's soundtrack is a wonderfully composed piece of art that moves in ways only music can do, whether its to convey comfort or instill fear or the idea of something bigger than you. As an experience, I can confidently proclaim I've never played another game that deeply affected me in the way Outer Wilds did. As someone full of anxiety and existential dread, the core tenets here were made both to sooth and directly confront the inevitability of life and its end.
Gameplay-wise, being a metroidvania where the upgrades are straight to your brain makes revelations and puzzle solving feels incredibly rewarding, since your own desire and anticipation is what fuels progress. You're dropped into this world from second one with all the tools necessary for success. The game constantly rewards you for being curious, while instilling a renewed child-like wonder at the universe alongside a primal fear of the unknown. The execution is flawless, and really evocative a completely fresh and unique experience.
Throughout the time spent in Outer Wilds' galaxy, you learn that it's best to just let go of your fear and take chances, as while dangerous, most things in it bear no ill will. In that same vein, a core theme that really resonated with me personally was the importance of cherishing the calm and quiet moments as something special. In a game filled with so much mystery, tragedy, and vast loneliness are also very tender moments that reaffirm you aren't alone.
It's obvious every single aspect of this project was a labor of love, and it payed off astoundingly. Despite the melancholy and abject horror inherent in a narrative on this topic, Outer Wilds makes its final message one of resounding hope and acceptance in the smallness of life; of our place in the universe and its importance through personal connection and just being, rather than due to a grandiose plot destined for us. Curiosity is a beautiful thing but It's okay if we don't understand everything, we were never meant to. It's a warm embrace at the end of the world, and that's something I can't put a price on.
“We do not have much connection, you and I. Still, this encounter feels special. I hope you won't mind if I think of you as a friend.”
Gameplay-wise, being a metroidvania where the upgrades are straight to your brain makes revelations and puzzle solving feels incredibly rewarding, since your own desire and anticipation is what fuels progress. You're dropped into this world from second one with all the tools necessary for success. The game constantly rewards you for being curious, while instilling a renewed child-like wonder at the universe alongside a primal fear of the unknown. The execution is flawless, and really evocative a completely fresh and unique experience.
Throughout the time spent in Outer Wilds' galaxy, you learn that it's best to just let go of your fear and take chances, as while dangerous, most things in it bear no ill will. In that same vein, a core theme that really resonated with me personally was the importance of cherishing the calm and quiet moments as something special. In a game filled with so much mystery, tragedy, and vast loneliness are also very tender moments that reaffirm you aren't alone.
It's obvious every single aspect of this project was a labor of love, and it payed off astoundingly. Despite the melancholy and abject horror inherent in a narrative on this topic, Outer Wilds makes its final message one of resounding hope and acceptance in the smallness of life; of our place in the universe and its importance through personal connection and just being, rather than due to a grandiose plot destined for us. Curiosity is a beautiful thing but It's okay if we don't understand everything, we were never meant to. It's a warm embrace at the end of the world, and that's something I can't put a price on.
“We do not have much connection, you and I. Still, this encounter feels special. I hope you won't mind if I think of you as a friend.”