A Game to Read and a Novel to Play

Fashioning a story, and to attire it with prodigious characters is hard. Now, composing a good story while supplementing it with minutely crafted portrayals is even harder. The approach and the composition of how a game unfolds its narrative vessel have been one of the fundamental requisites of contemporary videogame criticism, and continuingly have been utilized to separate the good from the mediocre. However, it is the aspiration to excel in both implementation and profundity that is proven to be the most difficult. Games such as BioShock, Braid,and Vagrant Story aren’t exactly a norm among the current offerings that flood the market nowadays. Naturally, not every game requires a preservation of an enticing plot to advance our interest, or contemplate its elements on message boards, blogs, and editorials. However, when a game parades itself of retaining a compelling narrative, it is here our critique should be shrewdly sharpened and attentively articulated.

Cing, the independently Fukuoka-based videogame company, has been commonly known of their brazen effort in integrating a story within a gameplay, and a game within a story. Hotel Dusk: Room 215, our primer example in this discussion, is perhaps Cing’s most successful venture of meshing the two perspective mediums. The narrative of Hotel Dusk isn’t exactly a literary piece, but its identity as a suspenseful graphic mystery is perhaps worthy of adulation for its kind. The visual expression and its aestheticization of a film noir, rotoscoped with semi-finished milieus and brushwork illustrations almost validate Cing’s assurance in maintaining the aesthetics and feel of a graphic novel. Though, just like any other game that strives to conceptually acquaint two components together (Fallout 3, anyone?), a particularized assessment of its parts could stoop the game into a quagmire.

Thankfully, Hotel Dusk adequately amalgamates its gameplay and story structures relatively well, though the conventions sometimes can get nonsensical. Giving the former occupation of our protagonist as a police detective, –presently hired as a salesman– Kyle Hyde instinctively tends to exercise his acquired credentials around the derelict hotel and its occupants, enabling him the skills necessary to assist with his employer's sideline business and his own personal investigation. With such austere premise, it is admiringly impressive how Hotel Dusk manages to be aware of its self-deprecatory wit, both in the storyline and cast of supporting characters. Seemingly starring with fairly generic characterizations such as the loquacious maid, Rosa, the pretentiously suspicious author, Martin Summer, and the haughty, slightly flirtatious, Iris, a prolongation of the game’s ten chapters will inevitably deteriorate such nondescript façades. By the time you reach the game’s last chapter and all that is said and done, you’ll be pleasantly surprised how they are amiable and well written, despite the few, immoderately dark secrets they cunningly harbor. 

Thusly, for a game that functions as a book, it’s pretty much a given that both the narrative and the gameplay are fairly authored experiences. The provided tools become available only when the author –game developers here– permits you to use them. There is no option for other distractions, detours, or deviations. In fact, experimentation with dialogue selections and branches can sometimes be quite fatal in Hotel Dusk, resulting the ejection of Kyle from the hotel and the unveiling of the “Game Over” screen. While this is practically an accustomed facet of point-click adventure games, Hotel Dusk doesn’t rely on proper interactivity to circumvent the paucity of its resources. It alludes itself of such plausible, notional gameplay mechanics, but neither the puzzles nor the narrative share a consequential association, at least most of the time. Games such as Broken Sword, Myst, and Monkey Island are famous for their husbandry and immersion, to a point that the player seldom feels detached from the experience. In Hotel Dusk, you cannot escape the inkling that both game produces and the scriptwriters were segregated individually upon perpetuating the game’s foundation.

Yet, what makes Hotel Dusk different from the aforementioned point-and-click games is that the former identifies itself as a novel first and a game second. It is a “game” that tries to woo bookish gamers (if there is such a taxonomy of gamers) to the prospect of merging games design with literature. Indeed, picking up Hotel Dusk for a thorough playthrough requires the player to primer himself into reading texts, analyzing different situations, and connecting past events to the present circumstances; merely basic commandments for any mystery aficionados. Literally, the opening hours of Hotel Dusk are quite protracted and leisurely progressive; the game takes its time to introduce its characters, story, settings, and tools before thrusting the player into the heart of the mystery. It also happens that these preliminary moments are also magnanimous, thanks to the finely tuned prose and charmingly lax atmosphere. In essence, Hotel Dusk almost eschews the basic prerequisites of a videogame, and to designate it as a text-based game is a misapprehension, despite its authoritative, procedural concoction.

The risks of outfitting a game to a novel’s mindset can eviscerate the length and replayability, two aspects that can become contradictory if they aren’t tempered cohesively. If a game structurally similar to  Hotel Dusk is too long then the player might lose interest due to sullen consistency, and if it’s too short and lacks sufficient reasons for multiple playthroughs then it can be unfriendly to a modest budget. Such obstructions are relentless concerns to avid readers, but for gamers, they can grow to be deal-breakers. It is a quandary whether Hotel Dusk strikes a perfect balance in this regard. It’s singular to anything else, except to Cing’s own portfolio. It’s conditional to the willingness and tolerance that the player holds for a game that flourishes its premise across ten chapters, in an approximate 16 hours of playtime. Chances are that most gamers who have purchased Hotel Dusk got it when it was thrown in the bargain holds. Yet, with similar cult games such as Ace Attorney, Time Hollow, and Lux Pain pervading Nintendo DS exclusive list, clamoring on the demise of the “visual novel” genre is proven to be frivolous.

Dubious it might be, Hotel Dusk is a rare gem. Sure, it is unrelentingly linear, and its execution places more concerns on its story than the gameplay, but the final outcome is pretty intriguing and affectionately involving. The narrative, though, piecemeal and dovetailed with concealed secrets and scripted twists, it’s quenched with noirish charisma and fascinating characters. It’s too bad that there aren’t enough motives to pay the Californian hotel another visit. It certainly would had made it a brilliant retreat from the all gung-ho going on with the current, lucrative-seeking industry.

Further Readings

• The Sins of Hotel Dusk [Experience Points]

Comments

[Miss Good Egg]

I felt really upset when I finished this game. I wanted something similar to it so badly that I had multiple trips to Ri7ab begging salesmen to grant me something exactly like it, hehe. My addiction now is Ace Attorney :)