a self dialogue
to ascertain existence:
je pense, donc je suis?
Additional Comments:
It's funny. Upon playing Myst, I found the game massively underwhelming and generally lacking as far as gameplay is concerned. Still, there were certain qualities that were hard to ignore or deny as anything but exemplary. Unfortunately, those elements didn't exactly factor into the fun department.
I've found, however, as time drags on, I often find my thoughts returning to Myst. Maybe because I've had a urge to play Riven for the past couple of years but for some unknown reason, keep putting it off. Maybe because in the back of my mind, I keep telling myself that exploratory puzzle games are indeed of a fascinating breed of video games that I actually do enjoy; disparaging thoughts on Myst be damned. Maybe because games like Pneuma: Breath of Life come out and I think to myself, "How could I ever dislike something like that - something that appears to be steeped in esoteric mystery and unnerving loneliness? Both setting and mood styles that I wholeheartedly love yet somehow find myself disappointed time and time again by most games that graciously embrace it. But... But looking at a couple brief teasers of Pneuma and I can only believe my opinions are occluded with sheer nonsense. Myst wasn't a terrible game, and by no means will Pneuma be either. After all, it's bathed in fantastic emptiness and clever puzzle solving. Right?
Pneuma is certainly beautiful; perhaps one of the most beautiful games I'm ever come across. It might even be tempting to say it's too beautiful - the whole thing glossed over in an extra coating of sheen that treads on the outer bounds of graphical overkill. It reminds me of Forza Motorsport 6 where beautifully realistic graphics have been replaced with models that look like they're encased in Saran Wrap reflecting everything and anything under the sun with prominence, giving everything an off putting plastic look. I hate the look of Forza 6, and very nearly hate the graphics of Pneuma, but fortunately, this game only looked over the precipice instead of making a leap of faith into the idea that maximum gloss, flare, and reflection shall rule all when it comes to digital beauty. Still, the amount of reflection is a bit on the obnoxious side. But then, I suppose were supposed to accept Pneuma's world as brand spanking new and we need to witness as much sparkle and glitter to verify the idea. But the question begs, is the world the latest figments of Pneuma's mind made real mere seconds before you witness them as appears the case in the opening segments? Are we exploring something that's centuries old, or more? Doubt it as the idea of a weathered look is obviously foreign. Is it simply an anomaly of space and time similar in respects to the world of Myst?
But graphics are merely dressing and should only mildly affect the game as long as everything else is in order. Unfortunately, like Myst, Pneuma falls short in the game play department, perhaps even more so. For starters, I'd hesitate to say there's any sense of exploration. Unlike Myst, Pneuma is extremely linear, be it advancing from point A to point B in each of the stages or overcoming the next obstacle that stands in your way. If anything, exploration is limited to the idea of viewing an arcane Greco-Roman world with no backstory besides that questioned by the invisible protagonist, or anything you, the player, may wish to inject or possibly infer from the various paintings throughout the stages, pass by as you continually advance forward. Essentially, exploration is as prevalent as it is in a linear walking simulator. If it wasn't for an occasional puzzle to break the monotony, I'd swear Pneuma is no better than a walking simulator to begin with.
Except the puzzles are a total mixed bag. There's never anything that's going to force you to put on your thinking cap, but there are a few that are indeed clever nonetheless. Not exactly in how they're executed, but within their mechanics. I think this is one area where Pneuma really falls flat. Instead of fleshing out some of the more interesting mechanics, the game instead attempts to throw out fresh concepts for each puzzle. Ok, the main sight mechanic is tackled in various ways, but sadly, I think it stumbles as each eye puzzle becomes more of a test of inconvenience since the game's camera is tied to the protagonist. Having to walk around without being able to see where you're going isn't enjoyable, even if there's no inherent danger to be found. It's just annoying. But still, like the various eye puzzles, I'd like to have seen an evolution of depth in some of the more interesting puzzles or gimmicks like the Rubik's room, the binary gates, the flipping steeple, or the tetromino bridge. When it comes to complexity, I feel as though there's only one puzzle that accomplished this successfully: the four rotating towers. Unlike most of the puzzles in the game, that's one of the only ones where it felt like a lot of thought went into it without relying on the increasingly annoying line of sight gimmick or slapdash obstacles like the moving bookshelves that seem completely devoid of ingenuity. Speaking of lack of ingenuity, the sundial puzzle left me scratching my head. It came across as a checklist item - something simply existing because it was desired with no thought as to the why or how.
While a couple puzzles took a little longer to complete than I'd like to confess, very few felt comparative to the more involved puzzles found in Myst. Looking back on Myst, one thing I liked about that game is that puzzles or objects in one location affected objects in another location which gave everything a feeling of dependence. It helped make the world feel like a complex web as opposed to a series of singular events, each of which opens the gate to the next event. As such, Pneuma didn't have the same persistent feel that Myst had which hampered much of its immersive effect. Again, this all traces back to the idea that Pneuma is no better than a walking simulator.
What I found to be the most interesting thing about this game is that it appeared to make all the same inroads as Myst while also making the same missteps as Myst. It makes me wonder if this is simply a result of the genre but then you consider stuff like the 3D Zelda games and have to wonder how they can make puzzles not only fun but carry substantial weight. Why do these esoteric first person puzzle games fall short? Only theory I have is that the limited gameplay forces higher expectations. Perhaps it's just that - I'm expecting too much from these games. But Pneuma left me feeling hollow so it obviously failed somewhere.
One place it didn't fail though is the music. Extremely atmospheric, the music is phenomenal. Again, like Myst, it helps drive home proper mood of solitude, secrecy, and inquisition. It plays off Pneuma's chatty self examination questioning not only his existence, but the world's existence, and what it means to exist. Too bad the game doesn't quite play into the hand of Cartesian philosophy as much as Pneuma's incessant ramblings would lead you to believe. Instead, it plays as a distraction for an alternative to Philosophy 101 with a couple interesting puzzles, one fantastic puzzle, and a whole lot of freshly polished marble reflections.
Nano-Rant(s):
Again, similar to Myst, I found myself faced with a puzzle that I guess is simply beyond my reasoning. Much like a puzzle in Myst that I happened to solve via dumb luck, here too, I solved a certain puzzle by total happenstance and haven't the slightest clue how to actually solve it. I must have spent close to an hour trying to figure out how to manipulate the solution until I eventually forced the answer by unknown means. I still have no idea how to solve the puzzle, but at least the developers had the sense to make it one of the optional puzzles.
And speaking of optional puzzles, the scavenger hunt isn't exactly intuitive. At least every other puzzle in the game, even the aforementioned crap that I solved by total chance, had a degree of intuitiveness to it. Sure, it can be argued that the Roman numerals hint at the solution, but if you happen to miss the other plaques on your initial playthrough, the puzzle's going to go right over your head especially since there's no other puzzle that has any sense of world connection and Pneuma spouts off some nonsense about the solution being in the belly of the beast as soon as you enter the room. Again, I must have spent a good hour in that room trying to do every conceivable button combination on each of the paintings throughout the room because I fully expected the solution to be in that room. Too bad the load times in the game are fucking miserable and turn the puzzle into a complete chore to accomplish.
Also love the fact that there's a collectible trinket in each stage that serves no purpose whatsoever because Xbox didn't get the relative achievement that PlayStation and Steam got. There's not even a story tie-in. Way to make the game feel like it has even less purpose than it already has.
Rating: 2 forbidden fruits out of 5
