In my exploration of the game Places, an online walking simulator seemingly for ages 8+ by jlv, I found myself immersed in a series of atmospheric 3D environments where the simple act of walking went well beyond its usual functionality. Unlike traditional games where movement facilitates action-driven narratives, in Places, walking itself crafts a narrative. This narrative is informed by the physical journey through varied landscapes, each eliciting unique emotional responses. In Places, walking goes beyond simple movement, evolving into a narrative mechanism that both guides the player through varied emotional landscapes and also reveals the impact of immersive elements on the storytelling experience.
Comparatively, Dear Esther, another walking simulator also known for its minimalist gameplay, uses similarly simple mechanics but integrates them into a more structured narrative. While Dear Esther provides clues and pieces of info that piece together and uncover a story, enhancing the player’s understanding and engagement through discovery, Places opts for a spatial story. It forgoes explicit narrative clues, focusing instead on evoking feelings and thoughts through the act of movement and environmental interaction, demonstrating a narrative told through space and sensory experience rather than through traditional storytelling.
The act of walking in Places serves multiple narrative and psychological functions. It engages players on a sensory level while also appealing to their innate curiosity. As players traverse various landscapes, from calm, bright fields to shadowy forests, the game leverages simple mechanics to make each step a part of the storytelling process. This approach taps into the game psychology aspects of sense pleasure and information seeking. The design of each environment in Places plays a role in how the story unfolds, with the sounds of crunching grass underfoot or the visual impact of a rising sun contributing to a rich, sensory experience that aligns with our psychological desire for sense pleasure.
Places is particularly skillful at stimulating players’ senses. As a part of my analysis for this week’s critical play, I ‘visited’ three of the different environments. First, Sketch 5 presented an initial deep dive into the immersive qualities of the game. Upon entering, you are immediately prompted to enter fullscreen mode and click to make your cursor disappear.
This intensified my focus, purposefully immersing me in the space, and I was drawn in by the auditory landscape of wind and the crunch of grass as I moved. I felt relaxed and like I was truly outside, especially while wearing headphones. However, the presence of some flat, 2D objects starkly juxtaposed against the mostly 3D environment, which occasionally snapped me back to reality and broke the illusion that the game worked to build. Game satisfaction is largely impacted by the player’s ability to feel competent and like they are in the flow state, and these details disrupt that.
Moreover, the constant sound effects, unchanging even as I reached the boundaries where visuals no longer matched the audio, highlighted a critical oversight in environmental consistency. For a game predicated on simple exploration, such an immaculate illusion is essential to maintain the sensory and psychological engagement it aims to offer. These details truly mattered and affected my experience and immersion.
In Sketch 4, the absence of sounds shifted my sensory engagement entirely towards the visual elements. I paid more attention to the visual aspects; the shadows, reflections, and the scale of my surroundings. This sketch made me feel particularly small and close to the ground, amplifying my perception of being ‘in’ the place rather than merely an observer. The detailed focus on visual elements without sound effects created a stark, almost contemplative atmosphere that encouraged a deeper personal connection with the environment.
Finally, in Place 6, I noticed how the mechanics of movement introduced a different challenge to immersion. In this place, I tried moving side to side where as in the previous ones, I mainly relied on moving forward. However, it felt awkward, artificial and like a sidestep rather than natural walk, again detracting from the realism. As I navigated this environment, my attention was drawn to the discrepancies between the game’s world and reality—particularly, how the water lacked interactive qualities like rippling and splashing in response to my movements. Even though I appreciated how the movement felt similar to how it would feel to walk through water, my focus on unrealized details highlighted a gap between player expectations of natural interactions and the game’s delivery, which ultimately served to remind me of the game’s virtual nature.
In conclusion, by focusing on sensory engagement and the inherent human desire for knowledge, Places demonstrates how a simple act like walking can become a storytelling device. Although it faces challenges in technical execution, showing how important every detail is when the game heavily relies on sensory pleasure, the game provides a valuable insight into how minimalistic gameplay elements can be effectively used to engage players deeply.
