The Missing: J.J. Macfield and the Island of Memories Review
The newest game from Swery65 is a raw, emotional triumph.
Platforms: PS4, Xbox One, Switch, PC
Developer: White Owls Inc.
Release Date: October 11, 2018
Reviewed by: Justin Drew (@RoboPlato)
Content Warning: This game and review contains descriptions of self-harm and suicide
Hidetaka Suehiro, more commonly known as Swery65, has established himself as the director of bizarre and outlandish cult classics, such as D4: Dark Dreams Don’t Die and Twin Peaks homage Deadly Premonition. His new studio, White Owls, debut The Missing: J.J. Macfield and the Island of Memories, is a puzzle-platformer that tackles LGBTQ and extreme mental health issues with a deftness, empathy, and care that few stories in the medium have been able to achieve, or even dared to try.
The game begins with J.J. and her girlfriend, Emily, going camping on a small island off the coast of Maine. The two get separated, and as J.J. sets out to find Emily, she is struck by lightning and revived by a strange moose doctor that speaks as if he’s an inhabitant of the Black Lodge from Twin Peaks. When she arises, J.J. finds herself imbued with the power to regenerate from injuries, even though she still feels the full force of the pain. This is where the game’s core mechanic comes into play. J.J. must lose limbs, set herself on fire, and break bones in order to solve the myriad of puzzles along the way.
The depiction of these injuries is brutal but not in the typical way you would expect from video games. J.J. becomes a silhouette and the blood that seeps from her glows white. The vision of the injuries is abstracted but the audio that accompanies it is chillingly realistic. Bones and sinew snap, J.J. screams and begs for help. No matter how many times I saw these animations over the course of the game, they were disturbing and uncomfortable. Unlike Shadow of the Tomb Raider, a game I have also been playing recently, these sequences take no pleasure in the pain of J.J. and the moments never undermine the tone. In Lara Croft’s case, the graphic death scenes often came off as comical and mean-spirited, much like the kills from a slasher movie. Despite being rendered in more realistic detail, the deaths in Tomb Raider don’t carry much weight. The Missing’s interest isn’t solely in showing the player something that will shock them, rather it’s focused on the pain that is being caused to its protagonist and forging a bond of empathy between the player and J.J.
This marriage of mechanics and theme is felt within every facet of The Missing. As a player I had a strong connection to J.J.’s emotional and physical state and hesitation often became my biggest obstacle. I didn’t want to put J.J. through the pain. I felt the same trepidation from opening the periodic text messages that J.J. receives from her mother and friends. They provide both some much needed moments of levity within a heavy game but they also lead into some of the darkest places that the game goes. You never know which awaits when the phone buzzes.
Unfortunately there are numerous issues on the gameplay front. Some of the puzzles have a bizarre logic to them that can make seemingly basic tasks take long to complete. There were times where the game introduces a full death mechanic that J.J. cannot regenerate from. The initial sequence did not make clear to the player that there was game over state and are combined with oddly placed checkpoints I lost 15–20 minutes worth of progress on each attempt. Sometimes the framerate would drop significantly, even on a PS4 Pro, and several times I clipped through the floor and was forced to restart the checkpoint. For a game from a small developer, these moments where a lack of polish rears its head are forgivable but happen frequently enough to be frustrating. I could see them being a major obstacle to enjoyment for some, but the quality of the story overshadowed these issues for me.
The team at White Owls places all of these heavy themes at the forefront and does so with care and maturity.
The story is one of the most important and impactful ones that I have ever encountered in gaming. Japanese-developed titles have often had serious issues in dealing with LGBTQ characters, but The Missing puts them front and center and conveys them with the depth and sense of empathy that is so often missing from its contemporaries. I have often seen the argument that Japanese culture is simply different and that the western cultural lens cannot be appropriately applied to their portrayal of LGBTQ characters but The Missing is a perfect counterpoint to that excuse. It draws on situations like an overbearing mother, annoying friends, and social anxiety to contextualize unique elements of the queer experience in a universally relatable way; one that I think could be eye opening for those that aren’t well-versed in the dangers and stresses that queer youth face. The team at White Owls places all of these heavy themes at the forefront and does so with care and maturity. As the story unfurls in the exquisite final stretch, the depth of the metaphors and themes comes to the forefront in a way that recontextualizes the whole experience and shows just how much thought and effort went into reflecting these issues in every facet of the mechanics and visual design.
I would also be remiss if I did not talk about how the game handles mental health issues, such as depression, anxiety, body image, self-harm, and suicide. Even though the game is focused through a queer lens, I, a straight cis male, was deeply reminded of my darkest days. Depression and anxiety will make you feel like you are a burden on those that care about you and undeserving of their love. I feel that every day. I have had moments where I stare in a mirror and want to peel off my own skin. In high school, I regularly contemplated suicide. Never have I felt my experience so accurately portrayed as it was in The Missing. The game accepts that life can be painful, it can be terrifying, but it can also be beautiful and full of love. Too often in fiction the realities of these issues are dulled, focusing more on being uplifting. The Missing still manages to have important positive messaging, but also refuses to pull punches in the portrayal, allowing those that suffer from mental health issues to have more agency and depth.
The Missing has a significant number of rough edges in the gameplay department but those that engage with the story, themes, metaphors, and symbolism will be treated to one of the most human stories that has graced the medium. The handling of mental health and self-destructive behaviors crafted characters that I could relate to closer than most in fiction. I have rarely felt as seen and understood as I was progressing through the latter segments of the game and can only imagine how much stronger those feelings must be for members of the LGBTQ community. This is a game that is going to be more than a cult classic, it’s a cultural milestone for the portrayal of these themes in gaming and one that deserves to be experienced and talked about for years to come.
The Missing was played using a review code supplied by publisher Arc System Works.
