Classic adventure games, for all their archaisms, are about doing, not watching. In a medium frequently obsessed with the ability to replicate the tight focus and action climaxes of cinema, there’s something radical, even subversive about a genre that gives you so much to work with, so many ways to interact. By Joe Skrebels
So many ways to interact, in fact, that the thrust of the adventure genre – that videogame spaces can be toyed with as well as dashed through, that conversation can be a pleasure and reward in itself, that there are moments to miss – has become commonly overlooked, jettisoned in pursuit of more immediate pleasures as studios eschew increasingly expensive redundancy. And so modern games reductively trade story agency for commands to “Hold X to pay respects” at a funeral. Narratives have but one path. You read from the script, with the voice recorded by an actor, and express yourself in how the corpses pile up. This is not all gaming, not by any means – RPGs such as Dragon Age: Inquisition, The Witcher and Wasteland 2 provide one type of counterweight, while Thimbleweed Park, Broken Age and the remake of Grim Fandango are seeking to offer another – but it is a dominant trend.




