Meghna Jayanth is a writer and narrative designer for games such as Thirsty Suitors, 80 Days, Horizon Zero Dawn, Sable, and Boyfriend Dungeon.
I’m increasingly convinced that just as dreams are the way our embodied selves process being awake, video games help us cope with our real lives inside the spectacular horror of capitalism-colonialism. The false promises and deferred satisfactions of neoliberalism, mostly shallowly distracted from or traumatically re-enacted. But - when a game manages to sensitise us rather than numb us, awaken us, or give us a space for communion in defiance of atomization, it is to be celebrated. In the shadow of corporate mergers, increasing financialisation, funding squeezes and mass layoffs in the games industry, we can see the space for this kind of work and creativity shrinking. This should be alarming to anyone who cares - about the medium, and about people, and the world. We need this kind of experimentation and boundary-breaking, this cracking and remaking of worn-out ideas and dead perspectives. We need work which refuses the corporate demand to be content. We live in a world of impending climate collapse, our reality is the global rise of fascism and authoritarianism, pandemic and scrollable genocide [https://stevesalaita.com/scrolling-through-genocide/]. The old order is collapsing and the new is yet to be born. In this roiling, anxious, paranoid, possibility-filled atmosphere the games industry’s march towards cultural dominance seems unstoppable. I for one would prefer we didn’t march there in goose-step. This moment has no use for artistic cowardice.
10. Cocoon
I adore elegant design and an approachable puzzle-game; Cocoon is in some ways made for me. It’s more interested in being personable, and giving a rich return to the player who chooses to spend time with it - audiovisually, texturally, mechanically - than it is in convincing you it’s clever, or making you feel clever. To me, that is to its credit. It’s beautiful in the manner of a Faberge egg - a work of intricate, intentional design eager to open itself up for your delectation. The masochists amongst you may not appreciate its easy pleasures.
9. Chants of Sennaar
The love-child of Heaven’s Vault and Sable, though maybe that’s my own context speaking. It’s a puzzle game about language and interpretation, irresistible to the sort of person who enjoys a game which entices you to get out a notebook and pencil. It frustrated me delightfully.
8. Against the Storm
I’ve only just started playing this on a friend’s recommendation and I’m obsessed. It’s a roguelite city-builder in a high fantasy setting. The task is to build a series of settlements for a demanding sorcerous Queen in the face of apocalyptic storms. Failure is inevitable. Your boss will never be satisfied. All your great works shall return to dust. The project of civilization is futile in the face of our own hubris and nature’s fury. A little light escapism for the secret doomer that takes over your brain at 2am! Look, playing this game is more socially acceptable than prepping, so. You know. There’s that.
7. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist
Didn’t come out this year, but I finally played it a few months ago and it deserves more love. It’s part colony sim, part visual novel, part dungeoneering, part card game wrapped up in a far future coming-of-age story. A compulsive core game loop and elegant UI make Exocolonist a very more-ish experience. It’s young adult in the best sort of way - the game situates the player with an authentically teenage curiosity about the world and systems and figuring out your path through the spread of possibility laid before you, but it doesn’t shy away from big ideas and critiques, and grief and loss. A very human sci-fi drama that is also in some ways a defiant elegy to the political failures of our present moment - the collapse of all that we know as fertile soil for future possibility.