Thoughts on Gone Home

This first-person adventure has more in common with a Richard Linklater film than Call of Duty

Note: Gone Home is cheap and will only take about two hours to complete. If you have any interest in interactive fiction go play it before you read on.

Lived-in environments define Gone Home

Honest human interactions and a sense of catharsis define Gone Home. It tells the story of an American woman who's been travelling in Europe for a year. She gets home to find that life has moved on without her.

Her family has moved house while she was away and the game begins when she (and the player) arrives on an unfamiliar, rainswept doorstep. Both parents are missing and a note from her younger sister hints at an underlying issue best not discovered. But that discovery isn't just worth making – it will very likely be remembered as one of the most profound in gaming history.

Gone Home invites players to unravel its secrets by creating spaces that demand investigation in a natural way. A locked front door is the first thing you encounter. That forces you to rummage through presses to find the spare key. You know it has to be there because every family has a spare.

READ MORE:
- Blogger Austin Walker on the dark under-current of abuse in the game.
- What is ludonarrative harmony and what's it got to do with Gone Home?
- A sycophantic/interesting interview with Steve Gaynor from Brainy Gamer.
- Previously on Hackett Out: thoughts on Minerva's Den.

The dark hallway you step into forces another basic human action – hunting in the dark for a lightswitch. Imagine a game without mechanical complexity or combat. Imagine one without an outlandish setting or simple two-dimensional characters. Imagine a game the sole purpose of which is to experience its world. It's a voyeuristic tour through a family’s secrets.

This is an abandoned house with a history – with a narrative designed to draw you in. But more importantly it's a home, the sort of lived-in space so long missing from video games.

What happened in the basement of Arbour Hill?

Gone Home presents its story as a series of vignettes. Rooms - spaces both private and shared - contain artifacts - both personal and public - that hold the essence of the people who live there.

A bedroom is naturally a personal space, but the shared pizza box-strewn tv room is used by both father and daughter and tells us something about their relationship.

The game presents those stories with the brutal honesty of a Richard Linklater film. The central love-story unfolds believably. The protagonists feel like human beings, in the same way that Jessie and Celine in Linklater's Before Sunrise feel like real people. Both game and film are set in 1995 and Gone Home's mood evokes the time.

The year brings with it the music, the pop-culture, the clothes and the technology of the time. VHS tapes with hand-written labels, tape recorders, and magazines celebrating Kurt Cobain a year after his death. It's a startlingly real-world setting in a medium usually littered with sci-fi and fantasy trappings.



Gone Home was made by a four-person team at the Fullbright Company. The lead designer is Steve Gaynor - the man behind Minerva’s Den (which I wrote about last year). It’s a personal tale, grounded in the real world. The experiences of the team behind it can’t help but seep into the game.

There are parallel stories; a man wrestling with inadequate coping mechanisms he's used to deal with the abuse he suffered as a child; a woman who's fantasies about a man she barely knows threaten her marriage, and a teenager who is struggling with her sexuality. But it's the way these stories interact - with each person dealing with their own problems while struggling to deal with each other - that really elevate the game. 

And all this told through only the items and inferences you pick up along the way.

Gone Home doesn't pull its punches. But it takes each story to a fulfilling conclusion in a way that offers catharsis to you the player at the same time as it offer resolution to the character you play.

It uses pathetic falicy to create a clostrophobic atmosphere that will keep you waiting for jump scares. And it engenders a feeling of dred that grows as you progress. The peak and trough of tension and release that Gone Home achieves is expertly handled.

The game establishes some boundaries. It wrests control from the player, for example, when the character you play decides not to read a particularly personal note. For the most part Gone Home allows the player to make their own decisions. I, for example, carefully replaced the stack of books that hide a stash of porn magazines in one room. I left the room the way I'd found it. I was so embedded in the world that I felt obliged to offer the same courtesy in-game that I would in the real world.

Gone Home's greatest achievement is its positivity. The game’s authors haven’t flinched from addressing serious human problems. But they have avoided the melodrama of so many 'serious' video games in favour of the mundane drama of day to day life.

It celebrates the little things that make us who we are. It's a far cry from the power fantasy fulfillment that most games offer, and it's better for it.

Games of the Generation - Uncharted 2: Among Thieves

The definition of a AAA Sony game - character driven and with a sense of scale designed to awe

All this talk about the next generation has me on edge - I won't be able to buy my way into the next wave of consoles for quite a while. But it also has me feeling nostalgic for the game of the past eight or so years. Uncharted 2 takes pride of place here - the first in a series looking at the best games of the generation.
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One of Uncharted 2's puzzle sequences.
Image: Naughty Dog

Uncharted 2 is the rare confluence of aesthetic, mechanical and design goals, with a team capable of executing them. 

It's one of the most successful communications of a designer's intention to a player in recent years – you'll move fluidly through almost every scene, you'll understand what your character is doing there and why, and you'll feel for Nathan Drake - root for him when he's down, cringe when he's uncomfortable and smile with him when he's happy. 

The developers at Naughty Dog set out to add depth to their roguish protagonist – a calculated move to take Drake from his roots in Indiana Jones and to recast him as Han Solo. Here he becomes a man with a past he might not be proud of, and a personality more suited to Uncharted's core gameplay mechanics of shooting and snapping necks.

Among Thieves opens with an extended heist sequence introducing a quest, and a cast of characters with varying levels of allegiance to Drake. But the heist is just the preamble to a round-the-world adventure.

The way the game renders snow is one of its
many technical triumphs
Image: Naughty Dog

Drake, we learn, has a string of past associates and has been involved in some less-than-above-board archeology down through the years. Some of those former friends are happy to see him and some are holding grudges, but none of them are to be trusted.

In this darker world, the violence of a third person shooter should feel right at home. Uncharted Drake's Fortune (2007) drew criticism for the gap between its happy go lucky tone and violent gameplay. It doesn't quite work however - you'll kill 1200-plus armed and aggressive thugs along the way.

The game has a roughly 70:30 split between combat and exploration. Normal cover-based shooting is built on with the introduction of basic stealth mechanics and a hand to hand combat system much improved from the original.

'Last year's model' - an awkward meeting
Image: Naughty Dog

The result is a range of options for the player about how to approach most situations. Combat is taken out of the traditional horizontal arenas and into a more vertical setting. Often the player needs to react to the approach of enemies while clinging to a ledge or otherwise exposed. The usual split between combat and exploration is broken down effectively.

There are problems however. Stealth is an excellent addition when used to create more options for the player. It's less useful when the game's designers force it on the player. And a couple of boss battles severely brake up the flow of the game - their simple attack and repeat gameplay structure not clearly communicated to the player. 

The sense of scale runs all through Uncharted 2
Image: Naughty Dog

There are stand-out moments here that have yet to be equaled - including by the game's disappointing sequel. There's a battle against a tank in a devastated Nepalese village and a shoot-out on a high speed moving train that spring to mind. But in many ways it's how Uncharted 2 handles its character interactions that give the game its lasting appeal.

Drake finds himself wrapped up in an awkward love-triangle and the strong bond between him and likable father-figure Sully is further developed from the first game. Uncharted 2 doesn't flinch from hard hitting scenes of violence but can just as easily deliver touching moments such as the game's ending - one that delivers a real feeling of resolution. Those moments outweigh the slightly hokey fantasy turn that the game takes towards the end.

Uncharted 2 never lets up. While the action is always ramped to eleven, Naughty Dog knows how to vary the pacing of its games in a way that keeps players wanting more. And all that is held together by a strong narrative and some of gaming's most memorable characters.

Gameplay footage in the accompanying video was captured off-screen using a digital camera. All content (other than my scripting) is copyright of Naughty Dog and Sony Computer Entertainment.