No one does it like Double Fine. Whenever it comes to pushing video games to new creative heights,  Double Fine is up to the task, as is clearly seen in their newest release, Keeper. In a surrealist world, you are a lighthouse given sentience (and semi-spidery legs). You immediately amble off, going to spread light where there is darkness. The Keeper’s very first act is to save a bird named Twig from the Wither, a decay that is spreading throughout the world. It becomes the Keeper’s mission to root out the Wither from this world by ascending the mountain to shine its light before all. And thus we have our narrative thrust! 

The entire story is told through the gameplay, with not a single word uttered or even read. The only reason why I have any names to the faces is because whenever you unlock an achievement, the accompanying achievement text explains what happened in this world. Like many aspects of this game, it’s a bold design decision that has both its pros and its cons. Showing and not telling does do a wonderful job of increasing your sense of wonder, which is already buoyed by this incredibly lush environment. Reading emotions depends a lot on the player’s intuition and the body language of the characters, which is tough to do when one of your characters is a lighthouse. But this lighthouse is dripping with character, and they pull that off perfectly. However, with no direct story you also risk people not getting invested. Whether the trade-off is worth it ultimately comes down to the person. The story itself is interesting and executed well- it’s surprisingly the most serious part of this absurd game. But this game isn’t for everyone, and it knows that. Games this self-sure are rare.

For those who don’t have a tolerance for absurdity and hallucinogenic visuals, I wouldn’t recommend this game. But you will miss out on some of the most lush visuals of the year if that’s the case. Keeper is gorgeous. Every environment not touched by the Wither is new and nonsensical, yet beautiful. The areas corrupted by the Wither fittingly evoke disgust. And the creatures you come across are perfectly alien. Again, if it’s too far for you it may be off-putting – but if you have tolerance to look past that, you’ll see how wonderfully creative you have to be to come up with these designs. It’s refreshing in an age where most developers are afraid of bright colors and non- humanoid silhouettes. 

They got rid of direct camera control; on one hand, games have gotten less cinematic in recent years so as to provide freedom for the player. But the cost of that is games look the same – so many games now just do the equivalent of shot / reverse shot, and when it’s time for free roam just put the camera behind the player character’s shoulders. But cinematography is a core component of visual identity! When you play games like Ocarina of Time, you see that they used the camera to the fullest. It was a whole new 3D world back then, and they wanted to showcase that. But nowadays we tend to forget all the possibilities we have with a 3rd axis. Keeper doesn’t. It presents its material fantastically. However, sacrificing that direct control does lead to the odd hangup.  When you’re playing a game, if the camera becomes too noticeable, and you can’t fix it, it’s like an itch you can’t scratch. A good camera is almost never thought about, but a bad camera is spotted by all. I only rarely bumped into this issue – usually it only occured when there were a few objectives on screen that all needed to be represented, so a detail was lost. Still, I’d argue they made the right call. 

Actually one thing that’s great about Double Fine as a studio is they frequently make documentaries showing how their games are made, and the lead designer specifically says in the documentary for Keeper that “…the more that people aren’t sure where to go, the more they’ll want control of the camera, which they’re not gonna get”. So while it does an incredible job for most of the game making you not think about it, they knew it was a possibility if it wasn’t executed perfectly.

The gameplay consists of environmental puzzles where you interact using the light from your lighthouse. Your light can frighten off the Wither, melt clouds off a platform, activate switches that send you back in time,  and a whole lot more that just won’t make sense out of context.  For the most part the game is content to stick with puzzles; however, one level of the game turns into a platformer,  and it suffers. It’s not supposed to feel like you’re an agile mountain climber, sure – you do feel the weight of your clumbering body as you navigate the platforms. But just because they sell the identity of the off-kilter lighthouse doesn’t make it fun to jump around as one.  The game proves it can do fun kinetic movement later on in the story,  so I know the ploddingness is intentional. And I’m all for ludonarrative harmony like that usually;  I just lost patience for it. This might be the only design decision of theirs that did not land for me. 

However, the light mechanic is used for all its worth. It’s a powerful symbol, seeing how light interacts with our world. Light is such a primeval symbol that it’s almost impossible to comment on; its benefits are obvious. But in a dark place, light gives us comfort. We can see; the light could be warm; it gives us knowledge of what is around us. Through it we can accomplish what otherwise is impossible in the dark. Being someone who brings light to the darkness means being someone who brings hope and wisdom to others.

At the time of year I’m writing this, it gets dark too early, and it will only be getting darker every day. But this liturgical season reminds us of the light of Christ. To shamelessly steal from Community, Advent is a time “where the coldest, darkest nights of the year become the warmest and brightest”. One of my favorite prayers ever is the Canticle of Zechariah, and this stanza always strikes me with its beauty: 

In the tender compassion of our Lord
The dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness 
And the shadow of death,
And to guide our feet into the way of peace.

I don’t think Double Fine was trying to make a Christian game, but you can’t avoid the associations these symbols have gathered over the centuries. So even though nothing explicitly is stated in the game, I can’t help but be reminded of sharing one’s light before others. 

You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. - Matthew 5:14-16

May we all shine our lights before others, and look for the light of Christ this Advent.

About Matt "PBnJ" Palardy