In the middle of the rapid rhythm of the games in dys4ia, one stands out. There’s the waiting room, a minigame in which you sit, and wait. And that’s it. This was the most poignant of the games for me, because it stood out so much. Yet waiting in games is not an uncommon thing – Idle games are arguably entirely waiting games, and many mobile games use waiting as a form of slowing down player progression/encouraging them to spend money. If used poorly, gameplay pauses can be immersion breaking or just downright boring. On the other hand, if done well, like in Dys4ia, the sequences can be some of the most powerful in the game. Depending on the context, the waiting creates a different feeling. In Dys4ia, for example, it’s a disorienting pause in the chaos of the rest of the game.
Resident Evil 2 (Slight Spoilers)
At its core, Resident Evil 2 is a game about movement and exploration. In the RPD Police Station, the main character, Claire Redfield or Leon Kennedy, must seek out three animal medallions in order to escape. The locations of these medallions are mostly unknown, and the player explores the building, avoiding and killing zombies in order to do so. The game has such a high focus on movement that at a certain point, an unkillable zombie named Mr. X begins to chase the player around the map, forcing them to constantly be on the run in order to avoid him.
However, there are certain enemies named Lickers who operate primarily by sound. They can be killed, yet they require a high commitment of resources in order to do so. However, if the player stands still, the Lickers can be avoided without any combat at all. They typically appear by surprise, triggering a fight or flight response from the player. But what’s so incredible about this, is that the line of play is to do nothing. Neither fighting nor fleeing, the player must stand still, ignoring all the instincts ingrained in them by millennia of evolution. These moments have your heart racing and every bone in your body urging you to do something, anything, and you must do nothing.
Outer Wilds (Slight Spoilers)
The Outer Wilds is a time-loop game about exploring as much as you can of a solar system in 22 minutes, at which point the sun explodes, and you are brought back in time to do it again. (If you haven’t played it, please do) Much of the driving force of the game is this constant time cap of 22 minutes. As you progress into the timeloop, the planets change, some areas become inaccessible while new areas can be reached. Much of your time is spent racing against the clock, trying to cram as much exploration into a run before you inevitably perish. However, as some areas only become accessible later in the time loop, you’ll find yourself waiting for the opportunity to arise. These moments of pause do not create the visceral reaction as they do in Resident Evil 2, but instead a more generalized anxiety – what if I miss it? What if I run out of time to explore it? This feeling pursues you through the rest of the loop, pressuring you till the end
Until Dawn
Until Dawn is a game where you spend a lot of time not interacting with the controller. This is not a value judgement, rather much of the game is cinematic and gives a lot of time to watching the consequences of your actions unfold. As a result, the waiting mechanic in Until Dawn is elevated compared to the other ones. Not only do you not have to do anything, you specifically have to do nothing. Although the first moment is feeding a squirrel, they quickly become life or death. Unlike Resident Evil 2, where you have an alternative to standing still, there is no such alternative in Until Dawn. If you move, you will fail. These sequences mechanically reflect what is happening in-game, when even as much as a breath could move the controller out of the bounds. This mechanic specifically interests me the most, and I think I’ll be talking about it more in depth for my video essay. Thanks for reading!
This is really cool I’ve never considered how many games require stillness as a mechanic, and how it can actually require a lot of skill maybe to do nothing some times when instinct, especially in a horror game maybe, is to button mash and freak out. Can you derive a game whose main mechanic in order to play is to know when ~not~ to play?
I think many competitive video games ask players to know when not to play, especially at higher levels. I’ll use fighting games as an example, since that’s the competitive genre I’m most familiar with. Fighting games have a reputation among many casual players for being button mashing games, but that’s a reputation that certainly goes away the further one digs into the genre. You learn that pressing a button is a commitment that, done improperly, can lead to you getting hit. So, the game becomes just as much about knowing when you shouldn’t be pressing buttons as much as knowing when you should. This concept of knowing when to use attacks or when not to is emergent — it’s not something the game necessarily teaches you. However, some developers have begun incorporating not pressing buttons as an intentional mechanic, much like the original poster’s example of the “don’t move” moments in Until Dawn. In Fantasy Strike, when your character is thrown, you can counter the throw by pressing no buttons at all with a move called a Yomi Counter. If you’re not pressing anything, you deal damage when getting thrown instead of taking that damage. As Torchwood put it, “you specifically have to do nothing” to escape a throw in Fantasy Strike. It’s an inclusion which starts to lead newer players to realize that they don’t always have to be pressing buttons, introducing them to higher level play where patience is a virtue.
When discussing stillness I find it interesting to view time through the lens of a resource. For example I find it hard to relate to people that call Stardew Valley relaxing. For me the ordeal is incredibly stressful due to the omnipresent clock. There are numerous tasks to be done in a single day much like in Outer Wilds and yet people don’t seem to be as anxious in this particular case. Even though it is essentially infinite there are moments when you are punished for using it suboptimally which is surprising for a game with otherwise fairly forgiving gameplay. And adding to the comment made earlier about competitive games, stillness is not only found at the micro level but also at the macro level. Consider sport games or shooters with survival or area capture elements, your team must leverage the time remaining as it can be detrimental to go on the offensive when you’re already in the lead. Commiting to inaction is much harder in multiplayer competitions though because playing in this optimal fashion is considered unfun or boring. (This reminds me of the fact that the granny toss in basketball is the ideal form for 3-pointers, yet rarely do professionals use it because its considered embarrassing). It’s a difficult balance to achieve where doing nothing is fun and rewarding in a medium that begs for interactivity.
Very interesting analysis. Non-movement as a mechanic can definitely help the player become more immersed in the environment, as they are forced to take in the surroundings and simply think about why they are where they are. This same phenomenon can be seen in certain movies – “Spirited Away” comes to mind. During the entirety of the train sequence, the viewer is forced to just take in all that had happened up until that moment. It made me feel more connected with the movie and its events, similar to how the non-movement in Until Dawn made me feel more immersed in the world.