Contrary to most games feeding from conflict, Shrug Island - The Meeting thrives on balance. A follow-up to a most lovable short film, it not only conveys the same rare feeling of connectedness, but it succeeds in harnessing interactive media in order to express it with even more resonance.
Following yet another cycle of seasons, Li and Shri are back on the Island. Although separated, they can interact with their environment in complementary ways, so that their two paths may be reunited. The progression bar softly echoes the idea that their stories are deeply intertwined from the very beginning. They long for proximity, but they do not ache for it, because they know that they're already close beyond words.
As Shrug Island trusts the player not to need pain to feel this closeness (something Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons did rather shamelessly), it goes even further by removing most hostility from the environment. Indeed, the two young shrugs do not struggle against the island, nor do they restore it from a desolate state: solving the puzzles means supporting the island during a small step of its own natural transformation, making their role as crucial as it is humble. Both of them seek the place where they could meet again, yet personal interest dissolves in the self-evidence that is caring for the world they live in.
The game mechanics communicate that individual talents should be channelled for the revering of this grand unity. While Shri binds rocks and plants into paths through inquisitive melodies, Li unearths buried artifacts yearning to be reconciled with the present. In this peaceful celebration, the watercolour visuals are appropriately gorgeous and soothing. The sound design is no less meticulous, with winds and strings adding an enticing mystical aura to the adventure.
For the most part, balance is always at your fingertips. It's less a matter of hard-earned resolution than opening up to what surrounds you.
Contrary to most games feeding from conflict, Shrug Island - The Meeting thrives on balance. A follow-up to a most lovable short film, it not only conveys the same rare feeling of connectedness, but it succeeds in harnessing interactive media in order to express it with even more resonance.
Following yet another cycle of seasons, Li and Shri are back on the Island. Although separated, they can interact with their environment in complementary ways, so that their two paths may be reunited. The progression bar softly echoes the idea that their stories are deeply intertwined from the very beginning. They long for proximity, but they do not ache for it, because they know that they're already close beyond words.
As Shrug Island trusts the player not to need pain to feel this closeness (something Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons did rather shamelessly), it goes even further by removing most hostility from the environment. Indeed, the two young shrugs do not struggle against the island, nor do they restore it from a desolate state: solving the puzzles means supporting the island during a small step of its own natural transformation, making their role as crucial as it is humble. Both of them seek the place where they could meet again, yet personal interest dissolves in the self-evidence that is caring for the world they live in.
The game mechanics communicate that individual talents should be channelled for the revering of this grand unity. While Shri binds rocks and plants into paths through inquisitive melodies, Li unearths buried artifacts yearning to be reconciled with the present. In this peaceful celebration, the watercolour visuals are appropriately gorgeous and soothing. The sound design is no less meticulous, with winds and strings adding an enticing mystical aura to the adventure.
For the most part, balance is always at your fingertips. It's less a matter of hard-earned resolution than opening up to what surrounds you.