Emerge: A simple story is an emotionally charged, heartbreaking and thoughtful game. In 10 unique levels, players record the critical moments of a man’s life as he makes the transition between life and death. They explore far-reaching topics such as romance, depression, grief, family and how they all fit together. Clumsy, sometimes frustrating, platforming hampers gameplay, but as evidence of the strength of the surrounding experience, these issues do not stop me from making a fervent recommendation. The unusual title of the game is simultaneously an aphorism and a subtle sarcasm. Even the simplest of lives has emotional complexity, and what appears simple on the surface is anything but considered from the inside.
As an old man, you wake up from the silence of your funeral pyre and have to navigate through a series of memories that have shaped your life. Each memory manifests in a visually diverse landscape that is inspired by a particular moment, such as the first kiss with your partner or the construction of a crib before the birth of a child. The visual design of each level is a particular strength that transforms concepts into a kind of visual language. In a childhood memory, everything looks bigger than it should. When the old man is confronted with depression, he is pursued by a crowd of shady selves who threaten to bring him down.
As you explore these memories, the right analog stick acts as a lever that spins time back and forth through these moments of consequence. In practice, this means you may be able to rewind the time to jump on the back of a water lily pad and then float down the river as it flits through the path of your memory. Time mechanics is an interesting metaphor for the way we remember important nodes and the times that precede and follow them, with a clarity that eludes a simple description. It is also a fun way to solve and explore easy puzzles.
By combining a particularly striking orchestral score, collectible art images that give the memories a definition, and a deliberate approach to level design, Arise keeps his ambitions small and focused. For this reason, it is easy to identify with the universality of its emotional ups and downs. The heights are happy, the depths squeeze, all in a way that really feels convulsive.
I have nothing but praise for the narrative and thematic vibrancy, so it is especially regrettable that some of the jumping and other traversing moments are mishandled. Nothing interrupts the immersion of a powerful sequence as much as falling off a cliff due to a misjudged platform attempt. Since there was no manual camera rotation that was stacked on inaccurate controls, I was dragged out of the river more than once, which is a real shame. It’s not a constant problem, but it comes up enough to hurt an otherwise exciting narrative.
Despite some stumbling blocks, Arise is a game that knows what it wants to communicate, with sensitivity and sensitivity. Since I’ve finished the game, I’ve always come across some scenes, especially the sequence of motion that ends the game. Take the dilemma of some bad jump sequences and go to the emotional core, as this simple story has much wisdom to share.
