My post yesterday was about the third chapter of Schrödinger’s Call (Acrobatic Chirimenjako) , a game that barring an absolute collapse/disaster in the final chapters, will most certainly be on my favorite games I played this year list at the end of the year. I don’t know why no one’s talking about it (I had written a whole thing about it being released at the same time as the highly-anticipated Hollow Knight: Silksong and having a similar score, but they weren’t released at the same time. Then I thought it was Mina the Hollower, but that’s not really the same time, either. I know I read an article about it because that’s why I looked up the game in the first place, but I can’t find the article) because it’s so damn good.
It really came and went with barely a ripple. The few reviews I could find (and caautiously skimmed the first few paragraphs) felt the same way about it tas I did. That it’s an emotionally affecting game that lies heavy on the heart. One even said that they had to take breaks while playing it, which is exactly where I’m at with it.
It’s interesting that my favorite game of the year may turn out to be one I can never play again. From the first moment I fired up the game until now (chapter three done, and a glimmer that I’m closing in on the end), I have played with a very heavy heart. I have not had this experience with a game before. Maybe a movie? I’m trying to think. Wait. Was there another game I felt this way about? I want to say there is, but I can’t think of one.
I’m torn between if they should have just made this a graphic novel (which it essentially is) or if they should have tried to make the gameplay more engaging. I think giving how the strength of the game is the story, I would have bene ok with no gameplay. That’s hard to say, though, because I don’t usually play graphic novel games, so I don’t know if I would have tried this out if it were that. Then again, I might have because the review I read for it was so intriguing.
I have a unique perspective when it comes to death because I’ve already expreineced it. It’s strange, though, because I don’t remember dying (twice!). And, yes, that still a amuses me so I’ll continue to write it this way (twice!). I don’t remember it, obviously, and it’s still wild to me that it actually happened. It makes me think differently about death, though. Or rather, I have a different relationship to it now.
I wouldn’t say I’m friends with it, but I would say that I know it better than most people do. I would also ay that I would rather not talk about it. But I do ponder it from time to time. Not as much these dayys as before, but still.
Right after my medical crisis, I thought about it every day for about a year. I was in wonder at being alive. While I was in the hospital, I heard over and over again how I was a miracle and should not be alive. Ok, the last part was heavily implied rather than actually stated, but I did hear what a miracle I was.
My favorite of these stories was when I was at home. I had a nurse’s aide who came once a week to check on me. It was a different one most weeks, and one week, the computer program the nurse’s aides used was down. Meaning they could not pull up my record. So they went rapidly through a checklist of symptoms/medical things done and answered them to the best of her knowledge.
My brother was there, and I was only half-listening to what she was saying. Then I heard, “heart surgery, yes” and quickly interjected that I had not had heart surgery. She stopped, gaped at me, and said, “What? Didn’t you have a heart attack?” I said I had two (plus a stroke and walking (non-Covid-related) pneumonia), but I did not have heart surgery. I added that I only had an angiogram to check on my heart.
The nurse’s aide had trouble believing that even when my brother confirmed that this was the case. It made me laugh internally, but it also drove home the point that I really was a one-of-a-kind case. You know how peolpe say that nothing is unique? Well, my medical experience was. It’s something that I have a hard time talking about with people because no one else can havy any point of reference when I talk about it.
One interesting fact I learned from my brother that he learned from a nurse was that one of ten people who had a heart attack survived. Through my research, I found out that it was two out of ten if the sudden cardiac arrest happened in the hospital. And it could go up to three out of ten if someone applied CPR on the spot. So the best case scenario was still me most likely dead. Not even a 33% of living.
And yet, here I am. Alive and…alive. I was going to say mostly well, but I’m not sure that’s true. But I’m alive. And that means something.
This game is about more than death, though. In fact, it’s not really about death itself. Death is a given in that everyone is going to die in a very short amount of time. That’s not a spoiler–it’s the premise of the game. In a way, getting rid of the tension of if someone will die or not was a smart move. It allowed the devs to focus more on what we experience right before we die. They recognize that most people have regrets. They also did something else I consider smart–because of the moon colluding with the earth, people had trouble remembering chunks of their lives–including the last moments.
It could have been cheesy, but I found it very effective. Yes, I know it’s a convention so that the game can be what it is, but that’s part of every game. There has to be a reason for the game to be, and even though this is on paper an outrageous premise, it is handled deftly. In some ways, the fact that it’s so outrageous makes it easier to accept–for me, anyway.
Hm. I was going to write about the emotions this game touched off inside of me, but I ended up talking more about the game itself. I’ll try again tomorrow.