Watching some people react to this game's pretty simple and inoffensive message of "when you're isolated and on the brink, a small connection from another human can help begin healing" with "it's illegal to tell stories about mental illness that don't end with the illness 100% cured but also if you do cure the illness that's cheap but suggesting that there's no moment where you're 'cured' you just grow and become better at dealing with it is ALSO evil. And suggesting that small things might help depression is evil and ableist and also suggesting that getting help is good is also evil and ableist. And also displaying mental illness as being debilitating is bad but also displaying it as being minor amounts to shooting mentally ill people in the head. And also it's misogynistic to suggest mentally ill people, some of whom are women, can be helped or even saved by human connection" makes me SO excited for how today's media landscape is going to absorb, flatten and wreck the themes of games that actually HAVE deeply nuanced, complicated things to say about mental illnesses and healing from them.

Like, say, Silent Hill 2.

ANYWAY! I thought it was fine, great in some parts and weak in others. It's VERY on the nose about its theme — but people are still missing it, so whatcha gonna do. The reaction from people with 0 media literacy is frankly more interesting to me than the game itself. STILL, I enjoyed it well enough and I think a lot of the disdain it's getting has more to do with the way that modern Silent Hill fans have decided that anything new is inherently bad and cheap and will never live up to some imagined past of perfection than the actual game itself, which is, at WORST, mid and anvilicious.

The core element of Lem’s 1964 novel they’ve captured is the planet of Regis III, with its pastel pink dunes and liquid rock formations, an intoxicating, vivid landscape. The plot is tangential to the novel, and part of the mystery is how it fits in with Lem’s tale of advanced military tech facing up against an inexplicable alien force.

But unfortunately (about 7 years out from Firewatch and 6 from SOMA), they really aren’t doing enough here to distinguish this from numerous hollow walking sims, despite the painterly landscapes and luxurious retro-futuristic tech. There’s little negative space to soak in the planet's surface, only constant muttering to yourself or your weirdly annoyed boss off-planet. Overlapping dialogue and abrupt popups disrupt gameplay constantly, and no amount of contextual animations can feel like meaningful interactions.

Puzzles are almost an afterthought and at most you will contend with occasional navigation challenges through samey looking caves. Outer Wilds and Subnautica have demonstrated how alien archeology and space exploration can be distilled into tense & dynamic gameplay, and in comparison this feels a little archaic. I look forward to more attempts at Lem’s work (possibly a psychological horror take on Solaris!?) and recommend experiencing this for the artwork alone (& a climax featuring the largest rocket of all time 0::).

While this is transparently an attempt by Sony to mythologize the PlayStation brand much like Nintendo has been doing for decades alongside defining the character of the PS5, I can't help but love it. Astro's Playroom is overflowing with cute little guys and love for retro hardware and that's all I need in life. This is especially refreshing given that the more fun-loving side of the PlayStation identity was left behind when the PS3 became the place for Serious Experiences and developers like Naughty Dog started pushing out Netflix original-tier self-serious yet empty schlock.

Video games don't only have to be digital toys and many of my favorites are much more than that, but there's a simple joy to a fun toy crafted with love.