Release Date: 28/05/2021
Played On: Win
Available On: NS / PS4 / PS5 / Win / XBO / XBSX
Time Played: 1h 34m
Progress: Completed
Developer: Brainwash Gang / TLR Games
Publisher: Raw Fury

While narrative games have often been at the forefront of innovation and originality in game design, it's fair to say that many contemporary titles tend to follow a similar formula. We're all very used to the "walking simulator" that lets you progress through a location while a story unfolds around you. Even as a big fan of this kind of storytelling, it can definitely get stale and sometimes feel a little bit like an easy option for creating a narrative experience in gaming. At least until a new entry into the genre comes along and reveals another twist on the formula, providing a fresh perspective on how a story can be delivered via this medium we all love.

At the same time, there are certain aspects of gaming (and media in general) that are often relegated to the background, or an otherwise supportive role. It's why editors rarely get credit for their work on movies, or why the people that make beautiful paints are never recognised for their contribution to fine art. Despite being valued in their own industries, these ancillary roles are often overlooked for their importance, because the majority of every-day audiences are so dazzled by the big star in the lead role.

Music and its role in gaming, has never really filled the headlines, or been the hot topic discussed after E3. Although it's definitely more recognised than the thousands of testers who grind through bugs, or the concept artists whose work never ends up in the final product, despite laying the foundation for it. In fact, I would argue that gamers are particularly fond of the soundtracks in their favourite games, and keen to learn about the composers and musicians who provided the audio landscape to the most memorable experiences.

However, even within the video game landscape, soundtracks are often relegated to the supporting role, with mechanics and storytelling taking the top spot. Perhaps this is just good game design, so we don't get confused by over-bearing musical ambience, and we can make sense of what's happening in front of our eyes. On the other hand, it might just be because that's how we've always done things and more often than not, a soundtrack simply supports the visuals and helps give the world depth by stimulating the senses. Perhaps it doesn't matter what you think of soundtracks and music in games, because most of the time it's nothing more than the spice on top of the meat, leaving the really important parts to exist with or without an accompanying soundtrack.

That is until a game like The Longest Road On Earth comes along, and manages to tell a compelling story with nothing more than striking visuals and a beautifully delivered and performed soundtrack that sits proudly right up the front of the game's presentation. In this game the music isn't left to wander through the background and provide depth to whatever happens above it, as it has been thrust into the spotlight and produced to be one of the main features holding the entire experience together. This is the walking sim that proves how well a story can be told with nothing more than beautiful visuals and a striking series of songs that play into each other like the chapters in a book.

This tale is told without any dialogue, and without any subtitles. There are loads of characters and they interact frequently, but it's through a kind of naturalistic pantomime that allows the player to keep up, even without explicit direction. Although the mechanics are also limited, as the only options available are to move on a 2D plane, or press a button to occasionally interact with objects in the world. It is through these simple inputs that we are able to explore through and progress the story of each character we encounter, leaving a lot of room for the real stars of the show.

Of course the focus in The Longest Road On Earth, is put on the visuals and music that are equally beautiful and consistent throughout. The monochromatic pixel aesthetic looks incredible in motion, with many fine details providing constant areas of interest on screen. Often, when interacting with another character or an object in the world, we are treated to a close up perspective made of detailed pixel art that really shows how wonderful it can be as a style in its own right. After all this is how we connect with each character and interact with the world, so being excited to see what might come next is a fabulous outcome that I was glad to discover. However, even these strikingly beautiful graphics are given a little bit of help from the game's soundtrack, which is arguably one of the biggest stars of the show.

The artist behind the music goes by the name Beicoli, who professes that she knew very little about music before working on the game as part of the Brainwash Gang development team, which really says something. At first I thought I was listening to a seasoned songwriter as I played through the game, so to learn that she was learning on the job and figuring it out as she went, only enhances my appreciation of the end result. After all, this quickly becomes a game that's about its soundtrack, as much as it is about its gameplay. I feel as though trying to separate the two would be a fool's errand and antithetical to the entire purpose of the experience as a whole. Suffice to say that I loved it so much that I went and bought my own copy of the soundtrack as soon as I had finished playing.

Of course, it's kind of hard to try and tell you about the music itself, other than to say that the soundtrack is full of gorgeously soft and stirring songs, at times making me think of a happy Chelsea Wolfe, or a contemporary Hope Sandoval. It's the kind of vibe that resonates well with me and easily fuels an emotional response to the fantastic story unfolding in the game's visuals.

We follow the story of a handful of characters as they live out their daily lives. There's very little drama or action involved, with little to no decisions to be made or paths to choose. In fact, it's the sheer mundanity of life that seeps through in this game, and provides a powerful insight in the similarities we all share. After all, one character's story involves spending time mopping the floor, while another's has us walking home through the city streets after a lengthy train ride. There's very little flash and sparkle, but there is a metric tonne of empathetic insight into the reality of everyday existence. Proving that you don't always need escapism and excitement to provide something for an audience to hook into, as I was transfixed from start to finish in a way that I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing for a long time. That's not to say that this was the most astounding game I've ever played, rather that I don't remember having an experience quite like it.

Each character's story is relatable and simple, making it easy to immediately have empathy for their situation and to read their actions and expressions with compassion and understanding. The Longest Road On Earth touches on some very universal themes that I feel would resonate well with just about anyone living in the developed, modern world.

A mother living alone in the country decides to see her child who has moved away to the city, but she's a fish out of water and settles for the familiar instead. A son rebels against his parents and forgoes the innocent play of his youth, in an effort to grow up quick and become the adult he always thought he wanted to be. A worker looks for somewhere to sit in a crowded cafeteria, before placing an important call from a payphone on the wall. These moments and more have stayed with me as pure emotional representations of the ennui of life.

The story of The Longest Road On Earth is one that I feel is open for interpretation, which happens to be my favourite kind as it means we get to make up our own mind about the outcomes. To push the boat out a little further, all the characters in the game are anthropomorphised animals, who act as viable allegories for the human counterparts they reflect. The shop full of clocks appears suitably managed by an old crocodile with glasses and a cane, while a proud looking bear seems caught up in office bureaucracy. I'm never used to think of myself as a fan of this kind of animal representation, but somehow I've found it working well in a number of games lately. It's as if the bizarre nature of a mouse making a cup of tea in a regular country house provides a certain sense of surrealism that would otherwise be unattainable.

Coupled with the stirring flourishes of the somewhat ethereal soundtrack, the narrative of The Longest Road On Earth sunk itself into me with some deep hooks. I found myself impossible bonded with each and every character, while my heart ached and my eyes welled up when they reached the inevitable cross-roads of their reality. What's more, the moving soundtrack was only further pronounced and punctuated by periods of absolute silence, leaving the absence of any sound to become the perfect crescendo.

I'm reminded of music driven movies like Zabriskie Point, or 9 Songs, but this is the first time I've played a high quality game that features music right at the front of the stage. Of course a simple walking sim such as this will always have a hard time reaching a mainstream audience, but I like to think that the developers of such a delicately nuanced story had more important goals in mind. Hence why we end up with a beautifully elegant experience that doesn't feel quite like any other, and manages to pull it off.

There's truly something unique happening with this game and I loved every minute of it. This is where I might add that I wish it were longer, or that there would be a sequel, or something to that effect, but I don't think that's where Iā€™m at with this one. Instead I'm glad that it exists precisely in the way that it does, as I thoroughly enjoyed my time with The Longest Road On Earth, and I wouldn't want anything like a sequel or another hour of gameplay to tip the balance and tarnish an otherwise excellent experience.

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