As I played Journey, I wasn’t overtaken by feelings of awe or splendor. Instead, I struggled with the joysticks on my Xbox controller, confused about interaction patterns and how to progress through the loose narrative. The desert graphics, while beautiful and designed with thoughtful intent towards a low-poly aesthetic, rooted the game in an almost indie creator vibe. Previously I’d loved walking simulators, immersive game environments, thoughtful and meditative experiences – Firewatch comes to mind, Flower (by the same game studio), A Short Hike. Yet still, I stopped playing after a few hours, my character still in the desert. Why is this? What gameplay mechanics differentiate Journey from its peers? After reflecting on this, I realized it was simple: the tension between individual ability with collaboration; that Journey is intended to be a reflection of growing in skill alongside others, and that feelings of individual isolation and struggle are an intentional gameplay mechanic that prompts the player to reflect on their external experiences.
After I put down Journey I was relatively disheartened by making relatively little progress according to the scope of the game – and in seeing that the normal gameplay time is only 1.5 hours. It is the very same mechanics that create a sense of awe and discovery that make journey frustrating to play, rather than a triumph. The frustration may be intentional – that the game is harder as a single-player rather than with a partner – but the emotional impact of playing with another person was diminished as the player is never directly told the other player (if they exist) is not an NPC. The over-reliance on a lack of worded dialogue or explanation – likely a design choice to limit mental burden, and create an overall feeling of workless exploration – meant that information needed to be gleaned in other ways. While many players may be encouraged to look outward – figuring out environmental puzzles through bringing carpets and in jumping to particular locations – or in realizing when and how other players may collaboratively enter the game – Journey simultaneously invites internal reflection through its wordless puzzle structure, heightening internal thoughts and frustration as puzzles are solved according to the player’s individual experience and ability.
I did not realize that the other players on screen were real players, and treated them as such – not following them or their cues, sort of still individually attempting to solve the puzzle with an additional person trailing behind. I later learned that once the game is completed, it will show you the Steam IDs of the players, humanizing them past the low-poly aesthetic. This is an additional design choice — though I did not personally experience it — that invites players to self reflect. The only moment in the game where you are explicitly told that the players are real, allowing for a re-evaluation of all past interaction. Did I treat them with the respect they deserved? Did I feel violated, like my sacred time was invaded? A mixture of these emotions — highlighting tension between individualism and collaborative multiplayer play, and between digital and physical authenticity — are intentionally invited through the design choices and simple, natural aesthetic of the game.
When I played Bokura, I had the sense that my partner and I began to communicate wordlessly — solving puzzles based on trust, moving things for the other. In hindsight, when I look back on my experience playing Journey, the same occurred — a wordless player partner pushing me forward, but this time without my knowledge. I brushed past them, thinking they were nonreal. Somehow, in that moment, the digital realm abstracted to the physical. I wonder about the things, the people, I have brushed past in my external life journey, steps that I can not get back. Times where I was caught up in progressing to the next stage of life, in the problems of the self or my inner frustrations, and times I forgot to look outward and notice the beauty of the journey. Or, the support others were giving me along the way. It is in this time before large life transitions that the game is effective. Even as I didn’t yet complete the game, it achieved this goal of prompting reflection in my personal life journey, and for that I am grateful.
