When I play games, I like to do it just about as blind as possible. This does not mean that I tie a blindfold across my face or gouge out my eyes or anything—after all, simply taking off my glasses would function well enough—but rather that I like to know very little about any game before I start playing it. Pristinely unspoiled. Absolutely no clue what I’m getting myself into besides vague notions of “well, I heard it’s really good” and “it’s, like, a Metroidvania, I think?” To me, this is the most ideal way to play anything, giving the game the opportunity to surprise you at every moment.
Unfortunately, as is true with every topic, it would seem that not everybody agrees with me.
Now, I’m not one to police how people enjoy themselves. You can play games however you like. Other people can be different than me. It’s okay. It’s whatever. I don’t even really care. (...w-what do you mean you watched a bunch of Hollow Knight lore videos before getting the game when I specifically suggested going into it blind? Y-you don’t want to, y’know, play the game first? Oughhhh… I think I’m gonna be sick…)
Hahhhh… hahhh… okay, breathe… I’m okay, I’m fine. Just let me make my case here, alright? Why do I get so bent out of shape about this?
Perhaps it’s best to illustrate with an example. Recently, I played Tunic for the very first time, an indie game that clearly takes a lot of inspiration from older Zeldas (think the original or Link to the Past) and features a charming little fox as the protagonist. These two facts are easily discernible from the cover art, and so once I popped the cartridge in, I was ready for a lighthearted adventure involving a decent amount of overworld exploration, dungeon diving, and simple puzzle-solving that would finally culminate in me saying, “Well, that was a cute little game!” as the credits rolled.
Long story short, Tunic ended up delivering more than I could have possibly imagined. As the credits rolled, instead of feeling finished with the game, I looked down at my little sticky note I had jotted various observations down on throughout my playthrough, things that seemed important but I didn’t know what to do with yet, and thought to myself, “I’m probably going to need a bigger paper going forward.”
I can’t say too much, or else I’ll be working against my own point here—Tunic was such an engaging experience precisely because I knew so little about it, so little about where it would go. It really did surprise me at every turn. Perhaps the thing that I value most about Tunic is that it’s a game that rewards the curious, rewards you for paying attention, rewards you for taking the time to try and figure certain things out. If I have any regrets about my Tunic playthrough, it would be first and foremost that I played it by myself—once I started to realize that the game was so much more than I thought it would be, I wished I had been playing it alongside somebody the whole time, whether it be with a friend beside me in the room or streaming over Discord, just to share the experience. Secondly, I wish I’d had more patience in certain regards, not turning to the internet for guidance and instead savoring that feeling of “...what do I do now?” for a little longer. Sometimes a little nudge is all you need for a puzzle to click into place, but I wish I’d given myself more time to find that nudge within myself instead of searching elsewhere… or at least gotten a friend to put my head together with. Sometimes I feel like the internet is an evil machine that sucks out all patience and critical thinking with its temptation of instant answers, and in turn sucks all the wonder and imagination out of video games. Wikis are cool and all, but maybe sometimes it’s better to not know everything, y’know? After all, weren’t games so magical as a kid because they held secrets you never fully understood?
(My Tunic notesheet was inspired by the last time I played Wind Waker, years ago, as I jotted down the locations of interesting islands to possibly return to, and later on tried to piece together where all the Triforce shards could be. Tunic is perhaps the one game that has captured that sense of mystery in me again. I never came close to figuring out all the secrets those islands held.)
All this is to say that I really recommend you play Tunic. I’m sure I’ll be writing a lot more about the game here with a little time (a more formal review as is customary, and definitely a recommendation page at some point).
As I reflect on Tunic, I see my habits and motivations for playing games starting to shift. For starters, I don’t have nearly as much time to play games as I used to anymore—this is the first I’ve played anything since August. I’ve always played games fast, and with shrinking time, the urge to do so can feel stronger… but I find myself wishing I’d slowed down a little with Tunic instead. Savored the experience. Shared it with others. Maybe spreading a playthrough out over months (as scheduling nightmares would necessitate) isn’t so bad so long as you get to play it with people you care about.
I’ve gotten a little off-topic. The headline, promising a focus on other peoples’ gaming habits, has instead lured you into a trap where I mostly talk about myself. In my blabbering though, it is likely at the very least apparent that I care a lot about video games. Unlike any other art form, video games are unique in that they are a conversation between you and the developers. That interactive element is what makes video games so special. Now, if you do some digging before engaging in that conversation, and read the metaphorical script to find out every line the game can spew back at you, then… well, you’re not going to have nearly as interesting or thought-provoking an experience.
Plenty of people want to clearly know what they’re getting themselves into before starting a game, and I understand that. If that’s you, then we simply have a difference of preference. As a random person writing on the internet (that lovely machine that both gives and takes so much), I hold no power over you to change your habits. I hope you’ll consider, maybe just once, however, taking a leap of faith on a game, going in with nothing but a curious mind and a patient attitude. Maybe you’ll find it a really appealing way to approach games! Maybe you’ll have an unforgettable experience! Or maybe not, and you win. I won’t actually strangle you for having fun incorrectly, I just wanted to say my piece. Clickbait at its finest, eh?
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