My Best of 2015 lists are going to start next week, so I want to squeeze in a few reviews or posts about some less-known or less-recognized media before I get down to the nitty gritty. The Park is an immersive horror/adventure game in that "walking simulator" style of, say, Dear Esther or Gone Home. Sure, you can rush your way through to the end point and have a bland experience, but where's the fun in that? Video games are about interaction and enjoying the world created by the development team. Why do the bare minimum, especially in a game with so much of the story told through personal exploration and interaction?
In The Park, you play as Lorraine. You are a single mother trying to find your son, Callum, in an amusement park after dark. The kid is just too fast for you. You wind up having to lap the entire park and ride every ride to try and catch him. Along the way, you rediscover the horrible history of a theme park built in a Lovecraftian world of nightmares. Did your child get capture by the fabled witch? Killed in any of the attractions all known for deadly accidents? Murdered by the Chipmunk Killer? Or something far worse?
The Park has a great mechanism to get you back on the right path if you ever wander too far and get lost. You control movement with WASD and the camera with the mouse. You can also right click at any time to call out to your child; Callum will always answer. Now, whether or not you get a simple "I'm right here, Mommy," or something more disturbing like "he's right behind you, Mommy," is an entirely different issue. When you're lost, calling out to your son will create a ripple in the world, pointing you towards your next objective. It's simple, unobtrusive, and tremendously helpful for people like me who visually struggle with lowlight environments in the real world and video games.
Part of the novelty of The Park is riding the rides. You have to ride a swan through a silhouette retelling of "Hansel and Gretel," climb on a roller coaster that has already thrown entire carts at you, and even sit through a full rotation on the Ferris wheel that claimed your late husband's life. Each ride gives you important clues as to what is happening in the story. You have no control over the path of the ride, but you have full control over what you see. Keep your mouse moving and you'll see the monsters of the park's past slowly creep out from the shadows.
Much like Gone Home, if you choose not to interact with optional objects, you're not going to get the full story. Newspaper clippings, lost items from your child, and eventually an entire recreation of your home in the fun house let you know what's really going on in The Park. The literal narrative of finding your lost son is pointless without exploring the deeper psychological implications of a mother's struggle with post-partum depression and separation anxiety in the wake of her true love's tragic death.
Before playing the game myself, I watched quite a few streamers on Twitch tackle The Park. It was pretty evenly split between gamers who laughed at the experience and gamers who were genuinely terrified. What created the difference? The level of exploration.
This isn't a horror game that spoon feeds you everything you need to know like a mainstream horror film; it's a horror game that demands your attention, your focus, and your commitment to exploring the physical and psychological associations of the theme park in the character's life. The development team at Funcom put so much detail into the world that it's truly a shame to imagine anyone choosing to play this game like a sprint.
The final ride in The Park, the fun house, is the most disturbing for obvious reasons. Everything leads you to the confrontation within the witch's head. It is the icon the park is built upon. As you descend through the layers of popup monsters and mirrors, you truly embark on a journey through your inner psyche and repressed memories.
Remember how thrilling it was to test out the looping level design of the P2 demo? You know, how each pass through the same labyrinth of doors and hallways created slight differences in the environment and narrative of the game? That's the kind of mechanic the final ride in The Park is built on.
The path keeps repeating, like you're trapped in the hall of mirrors, but little details begin to change. Callum's drawings take on new meanings. The books about the history of the park have slightly different designs and back cover descriptions. The lighting, colors, and set dressings change with each pass as you slowly uncover the truth behind Callum's disappearance. It's not a truly responsive experience like P2, but it is an effective, disorienting narrative device to lead to the end of the story.
Fans of psychological horror and storytelling games should play The Park. It beautifully captures so much nuance of depression, grief, and anxiety without exploiting the associated pain for cheap scares. The game earns its horror stripes in a believable and honest way that makes the journey all the more rewarding and terrifying.
The Park is currently available on Steam, with PS4 and XBoxOne ports due this year.
