What I think of Journey
Journey may just be the best co-operative experience I have ever had in a video game.
I can’t believe that I have only just got around to playing Journey. The game has received so much praise since it’s release in 2012, yet I remained ignorant and didn’t ever pick it up. Last month it was free on Playstation Plus, so I thought “Ooh Journey, I should play that!”. I downloaded the game, but it remained dormant on my dashboard, gathering virtual dust. Until now. I loaded it up on a whim, and before long I found myself engrossed in the gorgeous sprawling deserts of Journey.
The game is shrouded in mystery, and from the very first moment is poses questions, but withholds answers. Who is this character? Where am I? What’s over there? The opening minutes of the game see you awake in a vast desert, shuffling through the sand to the top of a hill, where you are presented with what can only be described as a graveyard, home to hundreds of headstones. Again, more questions, and again, no answers. What happened here? Who did this? All will become clear in time, for the moment you are presented with a clear path the follow. Beyond the graves you see what looks to be ruins, and not much else. So let’s go that way.
As you get closer, you see a beam of light emanating from these ruins. Climb atop them and you are presented with a glowing symbol, being circled by what looks like Golden Tickets from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. As you move into this glow, it engulfs you, and those Golden Tickets latch on to you and form a lovely glowing scarf. Empowered by your new garment, you learn to jump. Holding your jump button will see you soar into the air, and float gently back down again once your scarf has run out of glow. The glowing marks on the scarf serve as a jump meter, and as you find more glowing symbols throughout the world, your scarf will become longer, allowing for longer and higher jumps. The jump is one of just two actions you can perform as the mysterious cloaked figure, the other action being an emote, used for interacting with objects in the world. Press the button once, and you give out a little chirp. Hold the button down, and your character will leap into the air, twirling and exclaiming with joy.
Having only two actions that the player can use results in simple gameplay that presents little to no challenge to the player. However whilst this might be seen as something that would hinder the game, Journey is all about, well, the journey. From the first moments of the game, you’re presented with experiences that are simply joyful. Sliding down sand hills, riding atop the backs of scarf snakes and gliding beside them, these are experiences that are hard to describe. My words could never do them justice, they simply make you happy when you’re lost in that moment.
Part of the reason that these moments are so special is due to the beauty of the game. The art style is very minimalist, rather than relying on photo realistic graphics, the creators chose to evoke emotion through colour and lighting. The warm glow of the sun skipping off the sand in the early stages of the game makes you feel like the world is your oyster, a strong juxtaposition with the harsh, snowy levels later in the game which make you feel weak and vulnerable. The music of the game is beautiful, and perfectly hits every beat at these moments, elevating the emotional resonance and allowing you to get lost in the feelings of the character.
These moments throughout the game are joyous in isolation, but are elevated within the wider context of the game’s story. The catalogue of questions that the player has are gradually answered through cave paintings, found at the end of each level, which detail the rise and fall of an entire race of people as a result of civil war. The race of people in the paintings is instantly recognisable; it’s you. The story of those who came before you is told alongside your own journey, a journey to the afterlife. The game builds through deserts, flying alongside scarf snakes, venturing into the dark underground, being hunted by robot serpents, all culminating in a struggling climb up a snowy mountain which sees the hooded character fall in the snow, seemingly to never rise again.
At this moment, when all hope is lost, the most incredible moment of the game rises from the ashes. You are reborn, with unlimited power, free to soar endlessly alongside giant scarf snakes through the pouring sunlight to the top of the mountain, to be with your people. It’s at this point, whilst atop these majestic creatures, that you realise that this was the goal all along. The scarves that have been guiding you throughout your journey are the spirits of your many fallen ancestors, guiding you home.
Whilst this may not seem like the kind of game that lends itself to online multiplayer, Journey may just be the best co-operative experience I have ever had in a video game. Mid-way through my journey, I noticed a figure moving in the distance. I raced over, and to my surprise it was another who was just like me. Armed with no dialogue options, I chirped. He chirped back. I held my emote button, exclaiming with joy. He reciprocated. With just this basic, simple interaction, we had established a bond. For the next hour, this mysterious figure was my only friend. If he was lagging behind, I waited, and he the same for me. We celebrated with our emotes whenever we made it through a level together, both twirling and chirping together in song. When it came time for me to leave, I sat down on the ground (there is a button which sits you down), he sat across from me, and we said our goodbyes.
In terms of a cooperative experience, nothing was ever purer. There was no real benefit to travelling together (only that standing close to each other charges your jump). There is no challenge to overcome that is easier with a partner, there are no co-op necessary puzzles. Whilst most co-op games focus on the importance of working together, the bond I forged with this mystery man in Journey was not one born out of necessity, but out of the innate human need for companionship. I had a connection with that person, and for whole game I had no idea who they were or if I’d ever meet them again. I liked that, not knowing that is, so I will admit I was disappointed when the credits sequence ended in a list of the PSN names of those I had encountered. I understand it would be cool to send a message to the guy you adventured with, but alas I would have preferred not ever knowing.
I had been ignorant to the world of Journey for four years prior to this week, and I’ll always regret that. However, this game is timeless, and I will always remember those moments, from sliding down that first hill, to ascending to the heavens on the back of a glowing serpent. A shining beacon of what games are, Journey will always have a place in my heart.
