Comparing Gorogoa to Monument Valley in the spec was BOLD, but I’m happy to say that this game beautifully bridges art, narrative, and intellect in its own right.
Gorogoa is the brainchild of Jason Roberts, targeting puzzle enthusiasts who appreciate hand-drawn illustrations and enjoy narrative-driven artistic experiences. Available on Microsoft Windows, iOS, Nintendo Switch, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, and Android, Gorogoa follows a faceless protagonist through a mind-bending psycho-scape deluging the player with scores of gorgeously illustrated panels you interact with.
Many of my peers will likely argue that challenge and discovery are the main types of fun that Gorogoa was aiming to activate. However, I argue that Gorogoa’s success as a game mainly activates narrative through a confluence with the game’s mechanics and music. Gorogoa offers a compelling, wordless narrative structure that taps into a universal, a priori fascination with order and harmony with hints of danger that are expertly supplemented by the game’s central mechanics of zooming and panel movement. And most of all, music plays a central role in bridging the narrative and mechanics of this game which really won me over to the Gorogoa fan camp.
I first found the panel moving unintuitive but quickly got used to the mechanic. Much like Monument Valley (GOAT) Gorogoa demands that players think outside the box but I’d say Gorogoa is objectively more difficult. However, the game’s seamless integration of art and game-play generates a uniquely compelling narrative.
Even in just an hour of play, I believed this deep and poignant story – I also felt it and importantly heard it. The game evokes wordless emotions, themes of spirituality, resilience, and reflection. And somehow, every transition between panels felt smooth and meaningful to me and was, although challenging at times, strangely natural – and I think this is owed largely to the music which bridges the art and narrative.
To name just one example where Gorogoa was able to shine in combining narrative and mechanics, we can visit a scene where we see the protagonist sitting alone in a dark room and a thunderstorm is happening outside. The music is eerie and quite, but crescendos to thunder booming outside the window, and in this instinctual, very human sense, we can’t help but use the click (explore!) mechanic of the game to go check it out and see what it will reveal to us. And of course, the absence of explicit instructions and the reliance on these other perceptual factors heightens the sense of discovery and engagement and is hugely successful in my book.
The game’s audio, composed by Joel Corelitz (whose other music I’m now obsessing over), complements the visual experience perfectly. The score dynamically changes based on the panels the player is viewing, creating an immersive atmosphere that enhances the narrative and puzzle-solving experience. The subtle and atmospheric music helps to build tension and emotion, drawing players deeper into the world of Gorogoa. And it also taps into very human perceptual cues, anxieties, and hopes.
Musically, I specifically enjoyed Corelitz’s use of piano chords, bells, and synths that used non-standard tuning. Western turning and music typically uses A440 as a standard, butt his game felt a bit flatter (perhaps A424) and also intentionally used a lot of micro-tones (notes that aren’t in the traditional 12-tone scale). I think this deeply contributes to the sense of eerieness in the narrative, but also makes it feel very natural! Sounds in nature don’t follow a simple 12-tone scale, and a mario-style game soundtrack woudn’t be right for the experience. So I absolutely praise the developer and especially the composer for building a hauntingly beautiful sound-scape that made me feel profoundly human. Just to name one specific example to get a sense of what I’m rambling about, there’s this one scene where we’re looking at a ruined structure on a green hill (kind of looks like Ireland), and we here these striking three ‘piano’ chords using micro-tones (not traditional piano notes) and it evokes the kind of broken but still ordered vibe that just PERFECTLY matches the essence of a ruined building and I’m just obsessed.
For a near-perfect game like this, my only suggestion for improvement would be to include MORE of these non-standard chord moments because it was always so powerful as a narrative mover when they occurred. Specifically when we were looking at this ruined church structure in the bottom left, it would have been the perfect moment for some micro-tonal bell chimes.
In comparison to other puzzle games like The Room series or Superliminal, Gorogoa stands out for combining tactile and visual interactions as opposed to just one of those like the former games. And as I mentioned, the music elevates Gorogoa to the next level and makes it feel innovative and timeless, a totally fresh take on the puzzle genre.
