I completed the game today, but it was actually my second attempt. The first time through, I bounced off. I felt I was grappling and failing to understand the puzzles.
It took a second play through to understand the patterns of the game.
Tutorialization is very deliberate. The player is presented with a series of puzzles around a rule. The player must, through the binary feedback of pass/fail - determine the rule reflected in the around the particular shapes of the puzzle. #gamedesign
I think one's satisfaction with the game is partially driven by whether the games tutorialization works for them. The first time, I grappled with puzzles beyond my scope because I hadn't fully understood the puzzle. The second time, I was able to progress because I had internalized the puzzle set.
Some commentary I've seen centers on puzzles being not just hard, but unfair ("how was I supposed to know that was the solution?"). For them, the tutorialization didn't work.
I really came to appreciate how exploration of the map was a product of knowledge inside the players head. Understanding the rules governing puzzles using a given symbol opened areas of the map gated behind this symbol.
That's *cool*. The doors aren't a level gate, they aren't guarded by an enemy. The player progresses simply by knowing a rule that enables them to manipulate the gating puzzles.
This is very elegant. I'll be on the lookout for similar games in the future. #gamedesign
In previous puzzle-driven games I have played, the game world provided a narrative and a context for the puzzle. Myst Island, #OuterWilds. Even Braid! Solving the puzzle allows the player to interact with the that world, and the narrative within it.
On the opposite end of the spectrum is a #Sudoku puzzle book. Puzzles don't exist in a narrative context. Solving the puzzle simply means you've solved the puzzle and can progress to the next.
#TheWitness has many of the trappings of a narrative world, but the environmental detail isn't meant to convey a narrative. Or at least, the narrative seems to be a much simpler, smaller one.
The Island has no inhabitants. There is no clear story of events. The artifacts, trees, buildings, drawings, are there to provide a context to the puzzles, and perhaps to evoke a certain emotion, or to play with a theme, like "Perspective changes how you interpret something"
A couch looks out over the sea. An inhabitant could look out at this peaceful, lonely spot.
How does the player feel when they see the couch? That is the only "point" to it. The couch plays no narrative role. No NPC will claim the couch ("oh yeah, we dropped it here last week during the move"). It just exists as a way to prompt an emotion from the player.
The game plays with perspective. A statue in a city holds up their hands seemingly in despair. Their face is contored with sadness.
Step back. Look on the shadow. From this angle, the statue appears to be in a joyous act of juggling.
The game delights in playing with perspective. It's both a visual and a mechanical theme - puzzles will change depending on how you look at them: from what angle, in what context, through what obstacle.
I suspect there is a deeper narrative at play - one that I can't access. There are many statues that appear to be in some sort of creative process: a film maker, a painter, a sculptor.
The final chapters seem to be saying something about the creation of the island? We are exposed to artifacts of a creative process? But what the game is trying to say, if anything, is not clear, at least to me.
Although I knew better, I hoped the game would reveal something special to me in the end.
The ending was emotional. There was a sense that things were reseting, that my work for the past 40 hours was reversing, that I was was returning to the beginning. But it was clear that the emotion payoff was all I would get - there would be no big reveal, at least not for me.
Ultimately, I enjoyed #TheWitness and the brain-stretching feeling I experienced while playing. It helped me to understand what I expect from games. I'd recommend it to people who love puzzles - as long as you aren't expecting a narrative to accompany them.