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Bound is a game developed by
Rosa Carbó-Mascarell, a Masters student in Digital Games: Theory and Design at
Brunel University. The game was designed as part of her dissertation project
called Walking Simulators: The digitisation of an aesthetic practice, which
analyses the ‘walking simulator’ genre of games from the perspective of psychogeography,
environmental storytelling and romanticism. Rosa and I are good friends, and
share common interests in travel, art, psychogeography, urban exploration and
video games.
My comments in this review are
based on a playthrough undertaken during a game-testing day organised by
students on Rosa’s course. The game at this point was in an early alpha stage of development, and the bugs I mention in this review have since been fixed. Rosa is also aiming to improve the game further in the coming months by adding content and optimising it for tablets.
If you’d like to play Rosa’s game
(I would definitely recommend it!) then tell me and I’ll contact her for you.
This review contains numerous spoilers, though, so you may not want to read
this first!
In the last few years, the world
of gaming has seen the upsurge of a genre of games that differ quite vastly
from the triple-A titles we are used to seeing advertised. Story-rich,
intelligent, and utilising exploration as the central mechanic, these games can
claim to be an important part of the relatively recent turn from prevalent perceptions
of gaming culture as action-driven, violent and mindless.
For some gamers better acquainted
with the cut and thrust of popular first-person shooters and the like, the
focus on walking, discovering and interpreting within these new
exploration-centred games lacked the immediate thrill and deft skill they
typically required for gaming. Using the term ‘walking simulator’, these gamers
poked fun at a game style they personally found uninteresting. But following
the success and popularity of groundbreaking games in this emerging genre such
as Gone Home, the term ‘walking simulator’ stuck and was reappropriated by enthusiastic
gamers looking for a banner under which games of this type could be
categorised. Now a pervasive tag on the Steam Store, recent critically
acclaimed games described by this term include Life is Strange, The Vanishing of Ethan Carter, Homesick, Year Walk and Dear Esther.
Bound is a game that was
developed very much with the walking simulator standpoint in mind. However, as
part of a project looking into the significance of walking and exploration as
aesthetic acts within digital environments, the game acts as an insightful
study into the principles behind walking simulators, and their influence on
gaming experiences. This review takes a close look at Bound’s gameplay, story
and psychogeographical components to investigate where it sits within the
walking simulator framework. I go on to explain why, for me, Bound is a game
that almost perfectly captures the essence of what walking simulator games
are: what their purpose is, how the player experiences these types of games,
and how they connect to the wider traditions of psychogeography and
environmental storytelling.
Mechanics and gameplay
At the most basic level, Bound
achieves all this through its very mechanics. Unlike the vast majority of
critically acclaimed walking simulators, movement in Bound requires the player
to take individual steps using the ‘A’ and ‘L’ keys (or by tilting the screen
to the left and right if playing on a tablet). Cleverly, Bound also uses the
same sideways navigation system as Year Walk, with forward and backward
motion reserved for entering new buildings or rooms. The effect of these
techniques is that the very act of walking – taking one ‘digital step’ after
another, as opposed to simply pressing W, A, S and D – becomes the lens through
which the player experiences the landscape. Each step reveals more of the rich,
beautifully designed 2-D vistas, which appear in front of the player like
paintings. In a clear reference to the Romantic period, and its artistic and
literary appreciation of the landscape, everything about the way you traverse
the game environment provokes true recognition and immersion.
The landscape in Bound |
At first the ‘stepping’ mechanic
takes a bit of getting used to, and even feels slightly laboured. But the
benefit of this initially challenging mechanic for the game is that it draws
the player’s attention to how the rhythm and tempo of their footsteps affects
their interpretation of the environment. For example, more attentive players
may take slower steps, or stop completely, as they scrutinise certain details
of the landscape and consider their meaning. Ironically, this implication can
be somewhat lost in walking simulators using the W, A, S and D controls, where
players appear to magically ‘hover’ from place to place as they explore the
game environment. While meaning is still gleaned from the landscape in these
cases, movement becomes a means to an end rather than being an inextricable
part of how the game is experienced. In Bound, in the spirit of the
psychogeographical tradition of ‘dérives’, the aim is for the player to specifically
consider the significance of walking for the human impulse to explore, find
meaning, and satisfy curiosity.
Apart from walking, the other
principal mechanic within the game is the use of mouse clicking to zoom in on,
and interact with, different objects in the environment. This is effectively
the ‘explore’ mechanic, where the curious player can turn their walk into a
game – or perhaps more accurately, ‘bring the game to life’ – by uncovering
details on the screen with their cursor, and piecing them together to turn the
situation into a narrative. For example, the player can find keys by clicking
in different locations within the game, which then allow the player to uncover
more information that was previously concealed. You can open cupboards, read
postcards and notes, and even play music on a turntable. Indeed, there are no
sounds in the game apart from the sound of your footsteps and any music you
decide to play, because the idea is that the landscape itself, and the player’s
personal experience of it, is the game. No meaning or experience is pre-given.
There are no objectives or checkpoints dictated by the game. The only
motivation is the player’s own curiosity, and the only way to satisfy curiosity
is to engage with the environment. The landscape can’t be skipped, and thus the
player must use their curiosity to find the game within the landscape.
All this being said, there is
room for improvement in how the click function actually operates. One problem I
encountered was when I clicked to focus in on objects. On the ‘zoomed-in’
screen, I found that if you clicked over the top of where another clickable
object was, it caused the new object to zoom in at the same time below the
first zoomed-in screen. This became a bit troublesome for me when I wanted to
click all over the zoomed-in screen to make sure I’d thoroughly explored each
object.
It also wasn’t always clear which
objects could be interacted with. In a way this is interesting because it
encourages curious players to examine everything very carefully. But if you’re
like me and want to make sure you’ve found everything there is to be found, it
can encourage you to spend too much time clicking everywhere in each place to
make sure nothing is missed.
The last problem I found was
quite humorous. It came near the end of my playthrough, when I needed to find a
key to unlock something earlier in the game. Strangely I just could not find
the key, even though it was right in front of my eyes. Eventually it was made
clear to me where it was, but it was an unintended optical illusion that I
really struggled to see past. Perhaps even if the key slightly overlapped with
another object in the foreground it would have been more obvious. But hopefully
it would only take a slight adjustment for this to be improved.
Story and concept
I want to move on now to talk
about what these walking and clicking mechanics reveal. If the ‘game’ within
Bound is based on meanings interpreted from the landscape, what motivates the
player to discover these meanings? And how do these different meanings combine
to make the game compelling to play?
The answer to both of these
questions lies in the style of narrative that Bound employs. Storytelling in
Bound is not the typical sequence of chronological events we are used to in
games, where the player’s goal is to ‘complete’ one set of events in order to
progress towards ‘finishing’ the story. Instead, Bound uses a method of storytelling that actively encourages the curiosity around which the game
revolves, involving questions and answers. The idea is that by presenting
the player with a situation that provokes a sense of mystery and intrigue, the
player will want to know the answers to the questions that arise from this
situation. The only way to do this is to explore the situation further and find
more information, but this in turn can lead to more mysteries as a series of
unexplained events unravels. Suddenly what was initially just an ambiguous
situation becomes an exciting quest for truth. This is how the environment
becomes a game. The ‘game’ evolves from the thrill and anticipation that each
turn of the corner will bring answers to the questions that intrigue the
player, and a true story will emerge.
In Bound, the first spark of
curiosity arises when the player comes across a house during their walk, and
through the window of the house we can see the body of a woman lying in a
chair, not moving. This is not a normal situation; in fact it is somewhat
concerning. Is the woman alright? Is she dead? Was it murder? What is going on?
The house |
If you want to answer these
questions, you must get into the house. But it’s locked. Damn! Is there a key
anywhere? And so the search for the key begins. You eventually find it and open
the door.
You walk over to the woman and
click on her to see what’s wrong. Yep, she’s dead alright. But there’s clearly
much more than just a dead woman in this house. There are all sorts of objects
lying around. Maybe these will give you some idea about what’s happening?
But alas, more questions. The
victim (who we discover is called Katherine) appears to have received postcards from her sister Ellie, who is travelling. In
the postcards she mentions an ‘awful situation’ that Katherine is in, and
talks about Katherine's husband Allan. Something’s definitely not right here. Was
the victim having marriage problems, or even being abused? Did her husband
murder her?
Further investigation appears to
reveal that Katherine had a fondness for travelling. Her sister reminisces in
the postcards about past travels together, and books by romanticists around the
themes of walking and journeys are scattered around the house. So why is Katherine not travelling with her sister? Did her husband force her to stay? The
date on the postcards indicates that it is the 1920s, after all. Household
relationships were different then.
Alright, but then you find
flowers from Allan in their bedroom. How much did he really care about
Katherine?
More questions!
And at this point you are engrossed in these people’s lives, and have a slight voyeuristic urge to look
through every nook and cranny in the house to see what might be hidden there.
Who knows what secrets could surface?
So as you can see, what started
off simply as curiosity about an unusual situation within minutes becomes an
exciting hunt for knowledge; a journey of discovery. With the freedom of an
apparently empty house, the game presents the player with a thrilling
opportunity to explore the lives of its inhabitants. And because the player
must work to discover the story through their own impulses and interpretations,
rather than it being given to us on a plate, the meaning that Bound leaves us
with is somehow greater than the sum of its parts.
Examples of objects in Bound |
Indeed, the overarching concept
of the game is certainly not lacking in depth. It is perceptive and full to the
brim with detail; narrative and gameplay interweaving in an experience that
explores the significance of travelling, walking and exploring in a world where
so many boundaries exist to restrict us from having these opportunities.
At the forefront of this concept is
a vivid contrast between the freedom of exploration and the constraint of
responsibility. In the story that emerges as the player navigates the house,
this theme manifests in the relationship between the travelling sister Ellie, the victim Katherine and her husband Allan. The player goes on to discover that while Ellie is free to enjoy her travels around the world, Katherine is housebound
due to severe illness. And while Allan gets to leave the house
to travel far to work each day, this is only the result of him taking a job
that allows him to support his wife better. We also learn that all this has
occurred at a time when women had just been granted the right to vote in the
UK, which provides an insightful juxtaposition to the predicament of the
characters in Bound. It was supposed to be a time when women could begin to
challenge their stereotypical housebound domestic role and venture out into the
world, and yet for Katherine this freedom was inaccessible. The house’s
windowed exterior looking out over the idyllic Swiss mountains, and the
postcard pictures, are metaphors of all these constraints. The landscape is
there – you can see it transparently through the windows and in the pictures –
but the proximity is an illusion. ‘Being there’ isn’t the same as having the
freedom to explore. And in the end, we discover that this is what led Katherine
to take her own life. At least in death she was able to step outside her
‘prison’ to go on a different kind of journey.
The freedom/responsibility
contrast is cleverly embodied in the player’s actions too. The player is made
deliberately aware of their ability to take one step after another through the
game’s controls, which you appreciate more after understanding how Katherine
was unable to do the same thing. Furthermore, the very fact that the player is playing
a game means that they are also free from the social limitations that would
discourage people in the real world from journeying and exploring a place such
as an empty house.
As the game’s title, ‘Bound’
ingeniously captures the game’s overarching concept in a single word. While
‘bound’ can refer to the action of stepping or leaping, it can also mean
‘constricted’. Moreover, it can be used in the sense of ‘destination’ (e.g.
‘London bound’), not only referring to travel but also an element of destiny or
fate. The notion of destiny may seem constricting but it entails a journey
nonetheless – and from this perspective the stories and characters we encounter
in Bound become somehow reflective of the twisting and turning paths of life
itself.
Psychogeography and environmental storytelling
The most intelligent feature of
Bound, in my opinion, is the way that this concept and story are so effectively
communicated to the player: solely through their interaction with things they
encounter in the game environment. I’d
like to finish by considering where Bound stands in relation to this intricate
technique of environmental storytelling, and its underlying theory within
psychogeography.
A basic definition of
psychogeography goes something along the lines of “the study of the specific
effects of the geographical environment on the emotions and behaviours of
individuals.” However I think that this often-cited definition could do more to
show that the relationship between humans and their environment is dialogical rather than deterministic.
Cultural geographers have long recognised that the notion of environmental determinism – the idea that environments are what shapes human behaviours and
cultures – is passé. It is ignorant to suggest that the emotions and behaviour
of people can be shaped by their environment without simultaneously
comprehending the possibility that human behaviours, emotions and experiences
can themselves shape environments.
What I love about Bound is that
it reflects both of sides of the psychogeographical coin brilliantly. Yes, the
act of re-living the characters’ story described in postcards, letters and
other objects found in the game environment is likely to provoke certain
emotional reactions in the player. But the player is in no way directed as to
how they should feel, or what they should experience. The game content may be
the same for each individual player, but each experience is deeply personal.
There is no narration or God’s-eye view telling the player where they should
walk, what they should explore, and how they should react to it. Indeed, this
attribute is common within successful ‘walking simulator’ games, where
discovering meaning is often more satisfying to curious players than simply
being told what to understand.
The individuality of the
experience is evident from hearing how other play-testers reacted to Bound.
While certain aspects of the overall concept were apparent to all, each player
found varying levels of significance in the different details, and left the
game with wide-ranging impressions.
The simple fact that the game is
able to create such a powerful experience for the player is testament to
another trope within psychogeography: the idea that even the mundane objects
and routines of everyday life are extraordinary when they are endowed with
emotions, memories and impressions. Even seemingly meaningless objects can
possess stories. The psychogeographer’s role is therefore to acknowledge these
stories and meanings, and use them as a lens through which to understand
places. In Bound the player takes on this role in their desire to answer the questions
that an initially unusual circumstance presents them with. The landscape
becomes a thrilling mystery waiting to be solved, and you are the detective.
'Clues' encountered during the game |
The phrase ‘genius loci’, or
‘spirit of place’, in particular comes to mind when thinking about how the
ordinary becomes extraordinary in Bound. When playing the game, you get a
definite sense of ‘traces’ that have gone before: emotions, memories and events
that create a kind of presence or spirit inscribed in the game environment. One
of my favourite examples of this is how Ellie’s postcards and Katherine’s
letters are handwritten. Through reading the characters’ words in their own
writing, you get a very convincing sense of personality and sincerity which almost
gives you the sensation that you are communicating directly with them. Another
example is the clever placement of romantic novels about journeying, which over
time subtly demonstrates Katherine’s love and longing for exploration. These
traces are ghost-like; spirits that give quiet whispers and delicate
impressions. As a virtual psychogeographer you bind yourself to these wandering
spirits, using them as guides in your own journey of exploration.
The culmination of this ‘spirit
of place’ is at the ending of the game, however, where the player appears to
suddenly inhabit Katherine's dead body. It is a ‘literal’ manifestation of the
ghostly qualities of the game experience, acknowledging the player’s own
contribution to the traces of meaning that inhabit the landscape.
The fact that the player
experiences all of this through the act of walking is also significant, because
while walking may be seen as a mundane, everyday practice, through Bound's moving
journey of discovery the act of walking is reclaimed as an exciting, romantic,
and significant practice. The game is
effectively a love letter to walking, turned into an enjoyable and insightful
work of art. This is very much in the literary tradition of psychogeography
exhibited by romanticists such as William Wordsworth and Thomas de Quincey, who
used walking as a gateway to experience the emotion of particular landscapes,
which then manifested in their artwork. Dear Esther is probably the best example
of a game equivalent, where walking in the romantic landscape of the British
coastline is the method through which the player discovers who their character
is, developing a sense of self.
Verdict
Bound only takes roughly 40
minutes to play, but out of any game I’ve ever played it must have one of the
highest ‘thought provocation to playtime’ ratios. You can clearly tell how much
thought has gone into every aspect of the game – from the tiniest details of
the objects to the wider concept – immersing you so densely in its world that
you will struggle to drag yourself out again for hours afterwards. Even then,
like water trickling out from the coils of the ear, you’ll find that certain
details stick with you and re-appear mysteriously in the future.
The game’s premise is
philosophical: it is an exploration of exploration. But although the subject
matter may seem profound, it is a game that is built for purpose. For what
genre of game could represent exploration better than the ‘walking simulator’?
The game is its own justification
in this regard. The walking and interaction mechanics are designed specifically
to make you think about how the way you explore an environment affects the
experience you take from it. But more than this, the game revitalises exploration
by making it exciting. The
question-and-answer narrative presents the player with mysteries which can only be solved by engaging with the
landscape. And because the story that unfolds is so intriguing and moving, the
experience you are left with provides a real sense of fulfilment.
There is also a lot to be enjoyed
by those interested in the psychogeographical element of walking simulators.
Bound is a masterclass in environmental storytelling which very cleverly imbues
the virtual environment with emotional significance, yet is broad enough to
evoke a multitude of different interpretations. Every playthrough of Bound
yields a different reading, and I imagine that it’s the type of game that would
give even the returning player new insights, such is the quality of detail and
concept.
Walking simulator games may not
have reached the level of triple-A popularity yet, but their influence in the
industry is growing and Bound expertly demonstrates their value and potential. This
really is a great achievement for the walking simulator genre. Those who are
already invested in the development of these types of games should be extremely
proud and excited that someone following in their footsteps has produced such a
promising addition to the field.
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