In honor of Giant Bomb, my most watched video game website, naming Outer Wilds their Game of the Year, despite all my cynical predictions to the contrary, I finally decided to try and write some kinda review-ish something of this game I've been trying to sort out my thoughts on for almost half a year now. The fact that I've even been thinking about it for that long already places it among rare company. Dark Souls, Bioshock, Braid, The Witness, Outer Wilds. These are the games that delicately drum on my dendrites day after day.
Outer Wilds does so many things that, I think, most other games are too afraid to do, even if they wanted to. It doesn't have combat. It, only in the most technical of senses, has a save system. If you knew how, you could beat the game in the first twenty minutes you spent with it, no speed-running skills required, and yet for most people (including me) it takes about twenty hours to finish. There are no upgrades, there is no exp. The only upgrade happens in your brain, as you accumulate knowledge about this solar system and its history and nature, and the only experience are the ones you have while attaining that knowledge, which include, but are not limited to:
- falling in a black hole
- accidentally hurtling into the sun
- going inside a comet full of lethal ghost farts
- getting launched into space by a waterspout
- getting eaten by a giant angler fish
- riding inside a jellyfish
- toasting marshmallows on the moon
- playing music around a campfire with your buds while the universe ends
Outer Wilds is, in many ways, a metroidvania game were you to replace the arbitrary abilities and corresponding doors those abilities open with a completely open, delicately crafted clockwork world where the only thing preventing your forward progress is what you know or have been able to figure out. That it manages to meaningfully stretch a twenty minute series of actions into twenty hours this way is completely mind-boggling. You can go to the planets in any order you want and not only will you not break the progression, but the story that unfolds will be just as satisfying as the order than anyone else chose. It's a giant set of interlocking gears, a game of rock-paper-scissors on an interplanetary scale.
The big, obvious thing it does is something I wish more games did--place complete trust in your intelligence and patience as a player. This will be like cold refreshing rain in a desert to some, and like compelled flagellation to others, so I understand why it's uncommon. However, I personally love nothing more than a game/book/movie/whatever treating me like I'm intelligent, curious, patient, and perfectly comfortable being confused, because I am those things, and it's rare to be treated as such. In some ways I feel like Dark Souls paved the way for games like Outer Wilds despite it having no combat and not being "hard," in the traditional sense, but that's a conversation for another day.
The most common complaints I've seen are that the game feels, "directionless," and, "like a waste of time." To which I can only say, nothing about Outer Wilds felt like a waste of time to me, and that it's okay to start a journey not knowing the destination, or even the next stopover. Most great works of literature are the same way. The nature of art is that often the best of the best asks a lot from you, because truly great art is not just passive entertainment but a long, satisfying, potentially challenging two-way conversation that requires your full attention, as well as patience and trust in your partner to eventually lead you somewhere interesting even if at first their anecdote seems to be going nowhere
Outer Wilds catching on as widely as it has feels, to me, like a seminal moment in the maturation of this medium. More and more people seem to be coming around on the idea of the "most fun," game and the"best," game not having to be the same game every year. People are coming around on games as a heavyweight method of artistic expression as well as engaging toys to pass the time with. If I were to pick the most "fun," video game I played this year, it would probably be Remnant or Division 2, because who doesn't love a tight, mindless shooter you can play with friends? I put 140 hours into Division 2, and 45 into Remnant (also got all the achievements).
But I can already tell I'm not going to be thinking about either of those games in ten years time. Remnant didn't bring me to tears. The end of Remnant didn't prompt mutual, misty-eyed proclamations of brotherly love with the friend I played through the game with (the same friend I played Remnant and Division 2 with, and for whom Outer Wilds is also his # 1). Outer Wilds did. Outer Wilds is deeply contemplative, touching, life-affirming, and cathartic in ways only a video game could be, and if there's anything we need more of in this industry, it's more video games doing stuff that only video games can do, rather than worshiping at the altar of film and literature.