Summary
Every year I live, every week, every single day, I learn about myself. I am constantly learning that, no matter how excited I get about big triple-A releases, they inevitably disappoint me. There are big,Baldur’s Gate 3-sized exceptions to that rule, but I constantly find myself enamoured with indie games, whether they bestrong narrative affairsor thegamiest games you can imagine.
Indie games can take more risks, can push the powers of storytelling further. Individual developers or small teams don’t have to run every narrative beat past shareholders or executives. They can, andshouldtry to break new ground because they don’t have a studio name that gets them attention without any effort. They need to work hard to be noticed, and that breeds innovation.
I didn’t hit it off withCyberpunk 2077. For all the incredible graphics, the world was a facade and the story glossed over any sort of interrogation of the dystopian world it so beautifully depicted. Great ideas like the Trauma Team are squandered in favour of shock factor. Contrast that with indie games in the genre likeDeath Noodle Delivery, which make the despair of living in a technologically-advanced, hyper-capitalist society clear from the get-go.
It’s not just that indie games are unafraid to tackle these subjects head on, or that they’re more obvious in their themes. It’s that they so oftenwantto make you think, rather than wanting solely to sell as many copies as possible. Of course, that would be a nice bonus, but it’s the opposite of the risk-averse strategies of the triple-A scene.
In the sci-fi genre, the pinnacle for me isCitizen Sleeper. It’s got everything good sci-fi needs, from current-world parallels and heartbreaking decisions, to plentiful roleplay opportunities and wonderful writing. I’ve been looking for a game to tide me overuntil the sequel releases, and point-and-click narrative tale Minds Beneath Us is releasing at the perfect time.
Mild spoilers for Minds Beneath Us to follow.
From the demo alone, Minds Beneath Us is immediately intriguing. You wake up in a hospital with amnesia. You seem fine, but your companion is suffering in a bed nearby. You work out that you were making some kind of dodgy deal that went south. But the hospital ward you’re on is locked with a military-grade mechanism. When you attempt to escape, the skyline view from your window is replaced with a bright, shining light. A voice speaks to you, asks what you’re doing. This isn’t in your programming.
You’re not a person after all. You’re asomething, inhabiting a person’s body to work out the location of the package involved in this deal. As quickly as this revelation is dropped on you, you’re transported to another body, that of a hapless, jobless worker trying to navigate the struggles of everyday life in this dystopian city.
It’s a great intro. The initial scene showcases the criminal underworld of Minds Beneath Us’ dystopia, and sets up the scientific hook for the game. But cutting to the mundane life of a regular Joe living here gives you a different perspective. You’re no longer a hero or a villain, you’re just a guy. You’re trying to navigate your relationship, you want to contribute more to your household finances and allow your partner to take some time off for once. You’re having to deal with annoying neighbours and buses that run slowly because the AI that runs the city determines that your area isn’t a priority.
You’re immediately drawn into Minds Beneath Us’ dystopian world. You’ve experienced the high-tech mind-swapping technology and the criminals who control the city from the shadows, and you’ve experienced the effects it has on everyday people. It’s this latter aspect that so many triple-A games miss. Big games want to give you the power fantasy of becoming a master of technology, a cyberised assassin. They don’t want to show you how depressing real life would be if an AI controlled your city and you had to break your back carrying your hoverboard to make future-Deliveroo deliveries.
But it’s this normality that attracts me. I want to understand the lives of everyday people, I want characters I can relate to and have empathy for. Triple-A games so often forget the little people, but they’re what bring sci-fi and cyberpunk worlds to life, they’re who ground it in reality and make you think about the game you’re playing.
Minds Beneath Us isn’t perfect. The combat is just a series of quick-time events that don’t really land for me (another dystopian classic, Norco, had a similar problem). I solved some puzzles before the game wanted me to, so I had to perform unnecessary pointing and clicking in order for my character to realise something I knew minutes before. But the game is has a lot going for it. It looks stunning, the writing is great, and you’re instantly immersed in its cyberpunk city and dystopian world. Most importantly of all, though, this is a game that focuses on the little guy. And that’s who I really care about.
