Extra Guy

Genre: Adventure
Developer: thatgamecompany
Publisher: Sony
Players: 1
Retail Price: $10
Availability: Playstation Network

As an artform, gaming is in its infancy. The industry is roughly 49 years old if you count Spacewar! as the first video game, but things didn’t really take off until the 70s. As the technology used to create games has expanded (and continues to expand), so too have the methods used to design them. Compare that to the century cinema has enjoyed, or the countless years humanity has spent defining the rules of writing. In 2005, Roger Ebert stated he does not classify video games as art. His statements were then refuted by author Clive Barker, who stated that something is art so long as “the experience moves you in some way or another.” While Mr. Ebert childishly disagreed with this idea, I hope that someday, somehow, he ends up with a Dualshock 3 in his hands while sitting in front of thatgamecompany’s masterful Playstation Network title Flower. His point would be much harder to support afterward. Flower’s calm and relaxing demeanor is underscored by and ultimately overtaken by its understated narrative. It’s a powerful experience because of its abstract nature and could be considered the gaming equivalent of Koyaanisqatsi.

So gorgeous

Admittedly, there isn’t a whole lot to the gameplay in Flower. There is no failure or consequence to be found. You are given control of the wind and use it direct a flower pedal through the sky with the Sixaxis tilt functionality. Holding X creates a gust of wind and provides a boost of speed. Coming into contact with another flower will release an additional pedal into your care. You’ll encounter quite a few of these as you explore each of the six expansive levels, so your crew of pedals will grow exponentially. Following the trail of flowers will eventually lead you to the level’s end. These simple mechanics, however, should not be considered a hindrance. Speeding through the lush fields and wavy grass is accompanied by an overwhelming sense of freedom. Exploring the levels, then, becomes an absolute joy. It’s pretty much the non-violent parallel of exploring GTA’s Liberty City or akin to gallivanting aimlessly through Hyrule Field in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. From a design standpoint, however, the simple mechanics allow the true star of the game to shine: the story.

Those worried about spoilers, please read forward with caution or skip the next paragraph entirely. Experiencing this game with little-to-no knowledge of what’s to come is part of its genius. Those uncaring or unworried, please, read on.

Flower takes one of the great narrative conflicts — man vs. nature — and puts you in the opposite role. The first two levels are all nature all the way as you spend your time interacting with nothing but just that: pure nature. You’ll roll across hills and around groupings of rocks — it’s really quite beautiful. You’re so used to seeing nothing but natural formations by the time the third stage comes about that it’s surprisingly unnerving to find a wind turbine before you. As the game continues, the splendor of nature and your ease of exploration is restricted by the continuing expansion of man-made constructs. The manufactured structures, shockingly enough, begins to feel like an infection. The feeling that humanity is removing your freedom is thick and vivid, but only because of how seamlessly the early stages align your mentality with that of nature’s, that is, if it were to have a consciousness. The most moving aspect of the game, then, is the fact that it instills a sense of empathy with nature on a level no other piece of art has to date.

Flower power.

The spoiler conscious can continue here.

Part of the reason the game resonates so strongly is the soundtrack. The fully-orchestrated tracklist is able to dislodge the remaining emotion left behind by the story. It stealthily builds the proper emotions in all the right places, whether it be peaceful and carefree or foreboding and tense. It’s also a nice touch that your actions are punctuated by an auditory cue, like a flourish of strings when you fly across a tightly packed group of flowers. It also doesn’t hurt that the game is gorgeous as well. The grass moves in a convincing fashion as you tear through it at high speeds and the colors are bright and vibrant. There’s so much motion that you can’t help but marvel at how natural it all looks.

Flower is a landmark title, one that will certainly see some imitation, but will hopefully influence the industry in more wide-reaching or subtle ways instead. Its primary mechanics are the secondary element here — a compliment to the carefully hidden tale, merely included to offer access to a wholly unique set of emotions and feelings. Flower, then, is a title created with the intention of moving the player on an emotional level, and does so with unprecedented success. Much like a painting or a book. You know, like art. And even those who don’t consider games art would be hard-pressed to ignore that, whether it’s Grandma Joan or Mr. Roger Ebert himself.