Gone Home is a game about 1995. I was around in 1995, and I assure you it drips of the place. But the game anticipated my nostalgia milking meter to go off, and pressed forward with a disarmingly calm patience and sense of purpose. Like when a psychiatrist sits you chair, dangles a watch in front of you, and asks you to count backward from 100.
I'm inside a house. It's raining. Oh, I'm a girl, cool. The house is creaky, there are a lot of rooms, there are electronics on, mostly static, sometimes a voice. I expect a gargoyle zombie dog at every corner, or the kid from the ring to crawl out of a TV, but it doesn't happen. Not that I stop expecting it to happen, which is terrifying.
The rest of the family is nowhere to be found, but a picture of the family develops over time. Dad's there, and Moms there, and her sister is there, leading you all over the house, letting you in on things they could never tell you in person. The girl I am playing as isn't in the house, or, in most anything laying around the house. Her absence shading in the blank portion of the photo.
There are footprints of F.E.A.R in the hallways and Bioshock in the interactions of this games DNA. They were pocketing the best ingredients off the conveyor belt while whipping up those gigantic feasts. Sneaky sneaky.
There are other things that make Gone Home one of the best games of the year and one of the best interactive stories of the year. But to find out what those are, you should, you know, play it. I am interested to see how it does with a generation not born in the target zone or don't have the sitting strength for any problem that's solution can't be sent through the barrel of an M14. Well, I guess I already know the answer.
It becomes a media darling, yet sales are the rap equivalent of "Double wood in the hood." Hey, that's ok. The best thing about the state of gaming today is that it can sit in the dusty recesses of a virtual store like a digital mogwai, waiting for just the right person to find it. And I'm guessing Steve, Karla, and Johnnemann figured as much.
I don't think I enjoyed this game because I was around in 1995. I enjoyed this game because I was in it. If you are wondering, I was the kid that never got his street fighter cartridge back.
Anyway, I hope information carries golden parachutes for the latest round of Ex-Pats. Such is life folks, such is life. Also give me a ping if you have wants for tickets to the dev convention thingy, lot of good networking to be had. The cost: your soul. But are you using it? Really... Really? Id make it into a paper mache swan. Deep thoughts, also JERBZ.
The Protoculture Mixtape v.171 Issue : People : Astray
