Sacrificing engaging gameplay in service of narrative, the compromise at the core of Unpacking raises several significant questions regarding the nature of entertainment. How do competent games temper their artistic intention with immediate user experience? And to what degree can mild frustration and monotony feature in game before infringing on the player’s experience? Of course, the answer to each is largely subjective. Ideally, a game would have tight, intuitive gameplay and mechanics, servicing a profound, engaging story. However, for those unable to achieve this nirvana of game design, I believe that Unpacking offers a viable alternative.
Like many cosy games, Unpacking is intentionally slow, endearing, and largely based around a wholesome premise. One could go so far as to say that it isn’t even particularly concerned with being fun. Of course, there’s a comforting charm in its continuous loop, unpacking and organising possessions, however this mechanic is never tweaked or expanded, maintaining its simplicity throughout the game’s admittedly short run-time. To some, unaccustomed to the soothing ritual of cosy games, this realisation is underwhelming. And as the game progresses, this air of expectation can sour, turning into frustration at the incessant repetition and monotony. Not only do I believe this to be a deliberate decision on the developers’ behalf, but I’d argue that it bolsters the game’s strongest element, its narrative.
Through her possessions, we witness our character age and mature in a unique, indirect manner. Indirect and impersonal are two very different concepts here, as the game gently forges a realistic, impactful relationship to the main character, P. The pace and admitted tedium of the later levels ensures this measured build-up. Closer resembling the authentic unpacking experience, these later rooms tend to prolong their welcome, potentially leading the player to stagnate and even procrastinate, which isn’t necessarily a critique. This slow period helps the player recontextualise the lens through which they’ve been viewing Unpacking’s story. Rather than rushing through yet another arbitrary stage, we’re compelled to experience some of the game’s more poignant emotional moments at an appropriate pace, giving them more significance. The slow, familiar gameplay not only permits (and incentivises) reflection on P’s character’s items but gives the player space to contemplate and meditate on their own experiences. Unpacking our pink pig (again!) transcends monotony and repetition, it becomes a reflection on the past and how we and our possessions have moved through time. The narrative is given space to breath as its indirect medium begins to make more sense, providing a level of catharsis and intimacy. We recognise our own experiences and memories in these items, and I’d argue that this realisation is largely due to the amount of time we’re compelled to spend repeating this familiar task of unpacking. It may not work for every game of course, however in Unpacking’s case, I think it’s pretty cool.
It is very interesting to think how in Unpacking, we construct the relation with the character through her possessions, especially very personal objects that is not presented outside intimate relations. To build such relations primarily through sorting objects is a novel way of approaching memories of a person. Repetitively coming back to the same objects in different settings as in a tedious and seemingly boring process is actually the act of co-constructing new memory with the character, which is when the player could truly merge with the main character.
I always love how games are super unique by allowing you to actively participate in a narrative experience, whether or not it’s personally relatable. While we can see, read, and hear about a character’s life story, it’s endlessly fascinating how a game like Unpacking can let you practically experience the story yourself through its gameplay. I loved how your post argues in favor of how deliberately slow-paced the game is. Growth and change in life don’t happen overnight, and real life often has its monotonous periods as well. But, this also isn’t universally true, and life experiences obviously differ from person to person. The fact that the player must take time and sit through some of that monotony in Unpacking in order to experience those emotionally poignant moments makes them more significant and meaningful. I loved how you pointed out that a player having to actively immerse themselves into the deliberate tedium may even be getting a chance to meaningfully slow down and contemplate their own story alongside P’s. It’s a cool thing that games are able to do best compared to other media, and I think that’s beautiful.