lost, a post-apocalyptic adventure game about a cat, is mostly excellent. the two of us my box recently driven through its puzzlesits devouring Dense, mysterious post-apocalyptic atmosphere and generally enjoying being outside The power-fantasy of playing a cat, Then we hit the credits. Obviously, we had to talk.
Ari Note: John, we’re both finished lost, Tell me: was the last land for you? Or did it… detract from why the rest of the game was so great?
John Walker: I knew we were one punishment away. no i will say my experience lost There was a straight slant, which started high, and then went down and down until it had an absolutely dreadful end.
ari: I’m not exactly the same – actually more of a high plateau that fell off a cliff at the end – but I completely agree, that the ending is terrifying. I actually had to warn people IRL: This is so sad!
John: And yet, I’ve had so many people so furiously tell me off for completely forgets to suggest the ending The whole reason I was playing the game. But I think a lot of it is a reluctance to acknowledge that Pretty Cat Sim has already become just another gray third person robot game, so rescue versus reality is already pretty much the same.
spoilers follow lost,
ari: Ah yes, that blog rubbed some people’s fur in the back, didn’t it? But yeah, full reason to play lost Pretty straightforward: you want to reunite the cat with its friends. And you go through all these adventures – including those robot shooty sections whose merits we disagree on, but in a way that I totally respect your opinion – just don’t even get the impression that he’s going to take his friends watches again. It’s a very strange ending for a game that is otherwise too busy with hope.
John: They’re not even just friends, are they? They are brothers and sisters who love each other. They are an abandoned litter of kittens, survive an apocalypse, and then one of their numbers falls. It sets up a game that, of course, is uniquely focused on returning to your brothers and sisters. And instead it seems that they have been completely forgotten. He entangled himself in some completely meaningless fire sacrifice.
ari: Yes! For a game about a cat, it also got caught up in the drama surrounding a human. Do you buy that B-12 is really the last living human? And more importantly, did you buy that he suddenly turns tail (sorry, sorry, I can’t help it) and decides in the span of a few minutes that all traces of humanity aren’t worth continuing on?
John: Well, that is human consciousness trapped in a machine. It’s a small city district, so we all know that millions of humans will be living happily in China, or Sweden, or Bangladesh, or anywhere else in Australia. And none of this explains the logic behind his apparent “sacrifice.” He apparently uploads his consciousness to the computer, so there’s no sacrifice anyway, but beyond that, what was his purpose? To release a cat, a creature that has no interest in anything other than itself, back out, for what? What is the goal? If this was the end of humanity, as the game wants to imply, he did it so he could… let the heck out?
ari: Oh man, not at all, the cat definitely evolved out of pure selfishness! (My own cats should take note.) In the prison scene, for example, he’s on the run with Clementine, and then he’s like “meow, meow meow meow, meow,” which translates to, I believe. is, “We can’t leave yet. We have to perform a risky operation and save my friend B12, who is trapped in this cage guarded by lasers and laser-shooting robots.”
John: I was very confused as to whether I should have bought into the cat with what the B-12 was saying, or my own cats, just where the noise comes from, and then hopefully there’s food on the way. I played it as a game in which a reluctant cat keeps on accidentally flipping the right switch, or hitting the right person.
But all that aside, I would have forgiven any horribly indulgent faux-sacrifice nonsense if, in the end, my cat emerged to hear the scorching sun, just from the camera, one wondered, “Meow?!” That’s it. That’s all I needed. I didn’t even have to watch the reunion to see them fall on each other. I just needed to know that this was going to happen.
ari: Absolutely! And I get what they were going for, except for an open-ended finale so as not to neatly bundle the story for the audience. But it needed just the tiniest suggestion that there might be a happy ending—one that would have been completed a little “meow” off-screen.
John: What’s even more strange is that he said “Maybe!” ending. Except it was about a bloody human! We got that computer light switching, which I can only assume the B-12 was still alive.
ari: So what does this mean for the sequel? All the robot-shooty parts, no cute cat stuff?
John: I obviously hope they don’t make a sequel. They’re a talented bunch, but lost Turns out he had absolutely no idea what to do with the idea he had. I’d like to either see their next new idea, or just focus on making the cat sim that everyone really wanted in the first place. God, those subtle observations he showed near the beginning. And the happy moment when the cat puts on the ridiculous saddle for the first time. We had to put one of our kittens in a protective sock, and he did exactly that as if a building was falling on him. It was a pleasure to see those details come true so neatly. Which ends up being about a boring robo-bloc, probably never beating himself to despair due to stupidity.
ari: Poor cat! Please let me know if you have pictures of it.
ari: Oh. But yes, lost Absolutely the feeling of being a cat, perfect for walking up to a keyboard and fucking up people’s chess games. And I think it carries that feeling mostly to the end. ,Even Shooting SegmentsWhich went through my mind in an instant—I actually found myself wishing for an extra chapter or two.) But unlike a real cat, the game didn’t land on all four legs.
John: Before we finish, and you’re a bit more wrong about the shooting sections, let me tell you how it ended in our house: Toby, my 7-year-old, had a few friends over there while I was finishing up the game of Living. on room TV. Toby had completely lost interest in the game once he closed about being a cat, but wanted to be there for the reunion. As it was clear the game was about to go out to me, I told him, “Toby, what do you think is going to happen?” He sat down, “Kitten!” And so we all saw the inevitable, glorious moment… and there was nothing. And we looked at each other in surprise. It was so horribly awful. And Toby mourned for several days after this inspection. And when a 7-year-old is criticizing the structure of your story, you know something is wrong.