Recent reviews by SadMelon

I played for 20min and although I love the concept and find the art pretty, I was completely put off by possibly the worst character design I've ever come across. Jessie is obnoxious, cringe and not only unnecessary, but also detrimental to the experience. The developers didn't learn anything from The Witness, Antichamber, Subliminal or any other successful mind-bending puzzle games. Nobody wants to hear some over-excited person shout bad jokes at you every time you do anything. "IT LIVES!!! IT LIVES!!! MUAHAHAHA" - yes, lady, it was established already that batteries make things work (and it was obvious anyway), so what's so exciting about doing the exact same thing again? Jeez.

Yes, I could turn off the voices, but that removes _all_ voices, not just hers. This game is utterly unplayable to me.

I don't regret playing, but this game certainly didn't resonate with me as much as To The Moon. I'm probably either too old or too young to appreciate the story fully - or maybe it just wasn't the right moment. Seems required to get the full experience for Finding Paradise, though, so there's that.

Recommend playing just after losing a pet or child (not because they died, but because they needed to live their own life).

If you enjoyed Coco, and you are not a kid, this game is for you. It's a powerful, heartbreaking, sincere experience, that teaches you so so much about what drives people to do bad things in a bad situation. It's utterly relevant given the current US politics, and it's one of the best strikes at the core of Hate I've ever seen. It's also a powerful teacher about family values, and specially the siblings bonds. I can't wait to play the full game, and I wish everyone would play it with me - the world would become a better place.

The PC version is a bit wonky at times, but the emotional experience is powerful. I have no siblings, yet I found myself crying so much. Life is such a beautiful, sad, feeble, thing, and this game really highlights that.

I really need to say something about this one. You see, for a while I thought maybe Coda and Davey were the same person. I was not so sure by the end, but the Davey part of me really wants to get this out into the world.

I was touched by this game. In a deep, uncomfortable, stay-up-at-night way. I’m not really a game developer, but the game’s actually about any kind of creative process. You might be a writer or a musician and still understand it fully.

So what am I? I’m a lot like Coda. I create things, random things, now and then. I usually don’t share them with anyone. And when I do, I share them with one or two people.

So you can guess why this hit me deep down. People know me as a happy, composed person. Maybe a bit shy, but still. I’m the guy who painted one of his home’s walls absinthe green, to match the lemon green chairs and the green apples over the table.

But when I write a poem, compose a song, make a game, or draw something... It’s usually dark. Depressing. Nihilistic even. Everything I don’t give out day to day, I express in my art.

And that tells something about me. What, specifically, is open to interpretation. Maybe I actually am a depressive person. Or maybe that’s just my way to process sad thoughts. Everyone has them. Or maybe it’s just a random form of self-entertainment.

Every now and then the people around me might realize I’m particularly quiet. Or talkative. Sometimes I’m shining with an easy smile. Sometimes I can hardly pretend to like people. Usually, the cause is very idiosyncratic. Probably some coincidence that only has meaning to myself. A little detail a movie got right. Or perhaps I had some small epiphany about how the world works. You can’t guess whether it was something good or bad by my reaction.

And all those tiny wonders only exist inside my mind. I never write them down. I used to tweet about them, but without giving proper context, I might as well not have. Very indirectly, I express them through my art. But I doubt anyone else could reconstruct cause from effect. If anyone cared.

After all, I know no one cares.

And that’s another reason this game was so meaningful to me. I know, everyone feels this way at one point or another. But it always frustrated me that no one else seemed to feel the same way I did about their idiosyncrasy. No one else seemed to produce the kind of art that if you try, you can see rich relationships within, but never exactly decode their source or purpose.

But this game did. All of Coda’s games are the kinds of games I would make. If I could afford the time to learn to. Back in 2008, one year after for all purposes the world started for me, I actually tried. With the Source Engine. But I never got past the obviously-CS-mod stage.

But what if I did? If I insisted on making my own textures, and modeling a few of my own props? I feel I would produce content very similar to Coda’s. Short, simple, and not fully polished. Yet, personal. Stuff I would personally find cool, if only I ever could understand why. And I would not share it.

Except to perhaps a person or two.

So as I played this game, I couldn’t help but feel like experiencing an alternate timeline. In which I didn’t give up making random source maps. In which I met someone like Davey.

But then I realized I’m my own Davey. Overanalyzing my own stuff. I wanted to share my own stuff, but then I thought again and again about it all meant. What it all expressed about myself. And I became afraid. Afraid that people would judge me by my art. That people would know more about myself than I could afford to let them to.

So I stopped. I always stopped. The reason I’m not a game dev, not a writer, not a musician, not a real artist of any kind is because I always stop. As soon as I become good enough to start making something personal, I move on to something else. I can’t allow myself to be defined. And because of that, I always feel frustrated.

I almost cried very hard with this game. But before I could, it distanced itself from me. From Davey. From everyone. The connection was broken too soon. Like what I always do with my own work. So the experience didn’t change me. I’m still the same person I was yesterday, or the day before. But, in exchange, I gained something. This insight. About myself. About others. About people.

Now I wonder what I’ll do with it?