This one strangely reminds me of Myst (1991), an impenetrable “game”, with a unique atmosphere, praised by critics and practically worshipped by a subset of players; but which left me completely cold…
To summarise the plot of Outer Wilds: you’re a trainee astronaut living in a village of four-eyed Smurfs. You’ve been asked to board a rocket to explore a (tiny) solar system … for exactly 22 minutes, before the Sun explodes, engulfing everything and mysteriously projecting you back to your starting point, 22 minutes earlier. Like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, you find yourself trapped in a time loop!
I must admit my first journey into space wasn’t dull. Have I mentioned that I failed to get my driver’s licence? Plus, I’m not used to playing with a controller. So, I launch my rocket apprehensively, perfectly vertical, fearful of hitting something—which I manage to do whilst in the vacuum of space, don’t ask me how. The rocket is damaged, the computer orders me to go out for repairs. I have the foresight to stop the ship beforehand, because this isn’t my first simulator after all, then I open the airlock … and suddenly find myself ejected into space with a sucking noise… Fade to black. First death. Well done. Apparently, I’d forgotten to put on my suit.
Right, I increased my survival time by a few minutes in subsequent attempts. I slowly learned to steer the rocket to reach my chosen planet. I learned to crash, then to land … then to land where I wanted, sometimes even horizontally! I suspect the autopilot murdered me once or twice in the meantime. I also experienced the terrifying ordeal of being captured by the Sun’s gravitational field after getting too close, and continuing to approach it, even as I frantically engaged the thrusters in the opposite direction…
However, the real trouble began when I became capable of travelling in relative safety and exploring peacefully… In 22-minute sequences. Remember; after 22 minutes, the Sun explodes. Everyone dies, back to the starting village. So it’s not the kind of game that captivates you for hours, but rather one played in short sessions. Then, I spend a large part of the next session trying to find the spot I was visiting when I was interrupted…
In my opinion, this time constraint doesn’t mesh well with the principle of freely exploring an open world, even less so when you know you lack a sense of direction. And I always suspect that a time limit is hiding something, particularly when a game contains “puzzle” elements.
From my rushed sidereal escapades, I’ll remember flying over an aqueous planet swept by impressive tornadoes (following my unfortunate crash on its surface—but in water, it doesn’t count). I admired charming landscapes, observed various geological phenomena, searched through ruins, deciphered inscriptions, but none of these activities truly captured my attention, as the pressure of the impending “restart” led me to click everywhere as quickly as possible, just to validate new entries in my ship’s log, the only way to advance the story. The exploration takes on an artificial character that greatly undermines immersion. The game fails to make you forget it’s a video game.
And sorry, once again, the ruins of an ancient alien civilisation, dropping clues in the form of written testimonies (insipid, full of jargon) and working technologies; gadgets that spin and blink … how should I put this … it exhausts me. It already wore me out in Subnautica. Enough already!
Incidentally, I struggled to collect striking screenshots, a sign that besides the tornado planet, the environments didn’t exactly blow me away. What’s left? Wishy-washy dialogues with motionless background characters, practically no interaction with the scenery, a feeling of loneliness and boredom trying to solve time-limited puzzles (I refuse) or uncover a predictable plot, leaving an impression of having seen it a million times before.
I’m willing to make an effort provided the game gives something in return. An exciting first impression, a clear objective, credible staging, an original or well-written story. Not holding the player’s hand is one thing, commendable even, but not providing sufficient substance to interest and retain them is a problem.
Midway through my playthrough, I suddenly wanted to replay Mystic Quest and write its page for the website! Which led me to abandon this one without regret…
Finally, I find it staggering that the developers didn’t think to exploit the time loop idea through additional dialogues, initiated by our avatar after each “resurrection”, in the manner of Bill Murray (pass me the toaster!). It would have been so simple to implement and would have breathed some life into a title that desperately lacks it.
