At the center of Hyper Light Drifter's brutal, ravaged, and gorgeous world is something rarely
found in such a grossly commercialized and franchize-obsessed industry.
It's evident in every painterly landscape, every graceful animation, every atmospheric
note of its adaptive soundtrack, and every painstaking detail that brings this morose,
but fascinating story to life.
It's an experience that evokes the very best of what made the SNES so special, embracing
both its charm and its limitations in the pursuit of something intangible—heart.
In Hyper Light Drifter, as it is with all of us, the heart is the life force that drives
every vital function, the fulcrum at which all of its themes and symbolism are deftly
joined with the design and utility that transform a game into an experience that can leave a
profound impact.
In this case it was creator and lead designer Alex Preston's heart which served as inspiration.
Having been born with congenital heart disease, and suffering from life threatening health
conditions since infancy—many of which served as roadblocks to sharing his own creative
works—he decided in 2013 it was time to visualize a world he had been dreaming about
for years.
Driven by the very real awareness that he could die at any moment, his ambition became
insatiable, and teaming up with programmer Beau Blyth and musician Disasterpeace, began
working on a game that set out to combine the very best elements of The Legend of Zelda:
A Link To The Past with Diablo.
Developing the project under the aptly named studio Heart Machine, they launched a kickstarter
campaign in September 2013 that exceeded their wildest expectations, enabling them to expand
the project and hire on additional developers.
The results speak for themselves.
When I said that there was something intangible about Hyper Light Drifter, what I meant is
it's difficult to explain what makes it resonate so fiercely with me.
Passion is the only word I can come up with—that drive to make something truly exceptional,
something to be proud of when sharing it with the world—and how that drive seeps into
every crevice and every detail, bringing pixelated sprites to life with personalities all their own.
Hyper Light Drifter exudes that kind of attention to detail, recapturing the charm and magic
that I've only ever seen in the forced minimalism brought on by 2D and early 3D game machines
where limitations abounded.
In this case that sense of style and charm carries over into the storytelling, where
Preston opted for an even greater minimalist approach.
We take on the roll of the Drifter, a skilled fighter with a debilitating disease that acts
as an allegory for the creator himself—his method of making his art deeply personal.
There is not even a single word of written dialogue in the entire game, and in its place
we're treated to a unique visual and exploratory form of storytelling.
When approaching certain NPCs, you'll see a series of three images that tell their story.
One of my favorite examples comes from this fellow drinking in a corner of town all alone.
Having one impression of this character, or being indifferent, you might approach him
only to find out how he came to this city seeking prosperity, but was promptly robbed,
beaten, and left for dead.
As you look at him there sitting alone and drinking bottle after bottle, your impression
of him changes altogether.
There's something so simple and intuitive, but also visceral and effective about the
way this is delivered that could not have been communicated in quite the same way with dialogue.
It's a game that tells its story through exploration and rewards players who pay close
attention to the details—a perfect approach for a medium which touts its uniqueness through
interactivity, but sometimes relies a little too much on heavy exposition.
In this case, I'm reminded in some ways of Pixar's short films, where the story
is told through body language, emotional expression, subtle suggestion, and especially through music.
I did a video a few weeks back about how music can be even more effective at communicating
emotion than language, which I'll leave a link to in the description if you're interested,
but I have to say it's so true here as well.
Hyper Light Drifter's music immediately gave me Blade Runner vibes in all the best ways.
I've always been a huge fan of adaptive soundtracks, where the music moves subtly
along with the player depending on what the you're doing or looking at, and here it
creates a number of enduring moments such as this.
I've spoken about this somewhat in the past, but music that speaks to my heart generally
contains a certain duality to it—something that communicates more than one emotion and
perhaps even generates a certain level of internal conflict.
Richard Vreeland, better known as Disasterpeace, captures this duality perfectly as his music
weaves between being grim and forlorn to serene and hopeful, a contrast that emulates the
cycle of emotions we experience throughout our lives, and is carried over I think very
deliberately into the core of the game's pacing and mechanics.
As a creator myself, I often swing between moments of intense frustration, where I feel
like I'm drowning in my own ineptitude, to moments of supreme inspiration, where my
work flows effortlessly and my vision at last can thrive.
The enemies here are easy enough to read, but are ruthless and ambush you in large numbers.
The bosses and secret challenges can be quite imposing, and demand your full attention.
More than once I swore at my tv screen as I lamented my inability to react quickly enough
or read the situation more efficiently, but after I finally overcame each challenge I
was met with a moment, whether it was a breathtaking vista, a new exciting ability, or a story
beat which awed and inspired me, making every second of that frustration all the more meaningful
and worth it.
This personal allegory I found in my playthrough spoke to the heart of what makes creative
pursuits so rewarding.
It's also just incredibly satisfying to watch the Drifter throw his sword into the
ground after finishing a tough fight, due partly to exhaustion but also as an outburst
of triumph, something I found very relatable.
That's not to say that this game is frustrating to play as a rule, because it really is a blast.
The same excruciating level of detail is placed into every encounter, making combat both fast
and smooth while requiring the player to both execute strategy and develop skill.
This is why despite the fact that I cover primarily turn-based JRPGs, Action RPGs are
what I really enjoy playing most.
While a challenging game, it is never unfair, but simply requires you to put some thought
and effort into what you're doing, making it all the more satisfying as you learn and
get better.
It's also teeming with secrets, which promotes sharp observation and careful exploration.
Using gearbits you find in the world you can upgrade yourself and gain new abilities, which
opens a ton of options for how to approach combat, giving the player an arsenal to play
with and build their own style.
The overarching experience though, is one which simply bleeds passion.
Like the classic games it was inspired by it works within certain limitations to push
itself into inventive ground.
From the art to the impactful visual storytelling to the carefully constructed level design
and game balance, Hyper Light Drifter is what I consider to be a true work of art—not
just a great imitation of cinema, but an example of how games can transcend other audio/visual
mediums and create experiences that cannot be had anywhere else.
It's a modern example of what makes games so special, radiating the devotion and raw
talent that only the most dedicated artists develop through their willingness to suffer
and sacrifice and work until they have nothing left to give.
Through the course of this game, the heart of Alex Preston is laid bare, holding nothing
back, and allowing the player to explore, learn from, and be inspired by his life experience
wrapped up in such a skillfully crafted abstraction.
None of us really knows how much longer we have.
Like the Drifter we push through life's obstacles failing and falling and picking
ourselves up and wondering if we'll ever find what we're looking for in time.
In following Alex Preston's example, and not allowing those obstacles to deter us,
we can work toward our personal pursuits now, learning from our mistakes and bringing our
dreams into reality.
Hyper Light Drifter releases this Thursday on the Nintendo Switch, and is already available
on PC, PS4, and Xbox One.
If you appreciate good work, work that truly comes from the heart, I don't think you'll
be disappointed in picking this one up.



Không có nhận xét nào:
Đăng nhận xét