Cardinality

For the second game in my introduction to walking simulators, I chose Variable State’s Virginia.

It’s easy to talk about gameplay. As a walking simulator, Virginia limits your interaction significantly. You move through environments and press a button to interact with people and objects. This design won’t satisfy players looking for a challenge, but it’s not intended to. On the other hand (and in concert with the distinctive editing direction, described below), it’s great for casual players who’d like to share the experience.

The soundtrack is beautiful. It’s distinctive and, thanks to the participation of the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra, authentic. It’s also subtly integrated with the gameplay: ambient pieces loop while you explore, and new movements dramatically erupt in response to your actions. You can purchase the music as a standalone product on some platforms, but while it’s made writing this review more enjoyable, I don’t expect to be queuing it up again any time soon. On the other hand, if soundtracks are your thing, then this might be worth the asking price (around $1 USD).

Visually, the game’s cell-shaded aesthetic is crisp and vibrant. In the absence of texture, color is used to great effect, particularly in lighting. There’s dramatic daylight, dim service tunnels, spooky nighttime skies, and a florescent gas stop. What the graphics lack in detail, they make up for in mood.

That said, cell-shading stopped feeling innovative twenty years ago. A far more unique aspect of Virginia’s visual presentation is its use of jump cuts. It suits the walking simulator format very well: as a player, you never feel interrupted because your input is so simple. As a viewer, you always feel engaged because you’re not subjected to unimportant travel sequences. Immersive it is not, but it is slick. I can’t think of a more cinematic use of first-person perspective–neither in gaming nor in film.

There is no speech in all of Virginia. From the very start, it’s clear that you have to pay careful attention to understand what’s going on. The game’s cartoon aesthetic helps and hinders this decision. On the one hand, it makes for an impressionistic atmosphere where characters’ silence feels appropriate. In a live-action version of Virginia, a complete dearth of dialog would inevitably feel uncanny. On the other hand, lack of dialog constrains each character’s ability to express themselves, and their simplified visual appearance limits it still further. The animators do impressive work within this canvas, but it’s just not enough for some of the most emotionally-charged scenes.

On the surface, Virginia is a simple detective story, but it has some compelling subtext about gender equality, trust, and professional ambition. There are also a bunch of subplots concerning the minor characters, though they are far less obvious. This is no doubt deliberate; many people appreciate a certain degree of ambiguity in storytelling because it gives them an opportunity to bring their own interpretations. But whether the writers started with a complete puzzle and excised essential pieces, or they never developed some themes in the first place: they didn’t give us enough. After playing the game twice, my co-pilot and I still couldn’t form a coherent story around a handful of the set pieces. Faced with the prospect of a third play-through, we gave up, searched for other takes online, and came away empty-handed.

For all the game’s strengths, I was ultimately disappointed by its unresolvable clues. In situations like this, I suspect perfectionism may play a part, and I hope that other players would be more tolerant of the loose ends. There’s a lot to like in Virginia, after all, enough that I’ll be recommending it to a few friends, with a caveat. Meanwhile, my personal search for a great walking simulator continues.