Andrew Russell’s much touted Dream Build Play entry Dark has become somewhat of an underground hit for Xbox Live Indie Games. Tagged explicitly in nearly all media coverage as an ‘œart game’, it is with reasonable difficulty that one sits down to play and review. After Russell’s extremely formal introduction and development précis, the release notes describe the title as a ‘œvery dark, atmospheric puzzle-platformer’. With labels and genre conventions noted and in place, is Dark a clarifying rally as to the service’s creative potential, or an artistic misstep? Thanks to Andrew Russell for providing us with a review code for the game.

Dark is a linear, interactive experience played as the title suggests, in almost total darkness. The five levels of the full game can be traversed in one 20 minute sitting without difficulty; something made explicit in the game’s press release. Whilst there are definite conventions of narrative at play there is no character development or story arc past game start and game end. In beating its final puzzle, the player is closing the back of a thin, single chaptered book emblazoned with lavishly detailed cover art; themselves content but yearning for a little more substance. After quaffing aperitifs and wandering listlessly through the games credits, there is a clutching sigh at the knowledge that dinner itself is off menu this evening. In similar vein to the recent Flash based indie darling Small Worlds, Dark is a game of pure exploration with progression through each stage the game’s only real goal. The dimly lit aesthetics provide the source of Dark’s puzzles with dead ends triumphed by discovered paths and mechanical activation waiting patiently in gloomy shadow to be unearthed by swinging torchlight.

Should have gone to Specsavers.

Regardless of personal opinion on either Cyan World’s Myst or Riven, it is impossible to deny their success in creating atmosphere in environment. Dark can stand proud in its similarly confident audio-visual approach, with a beautifully sombre piano driven soundtrack and a simplistically minimal use of colour and shape in level build and geometry. Character design however is less than inspired with the controllable protagonist’s rhombus stare somehow inciting a sense of calculated laziness. The googly eyes are at once stiffly naïve yet constantly probing with a shifty, Action Man trademarked pupil shift. They serve up similar annoyance to that of Binary Tweed’s Clover: a great game soured by unpalatably cute, N64-era Rareware character design. The avatar, if presented as a simple end-up quadrilateral would suggest a reasoned decision making in its faceless motion; the current Simpson’s eyeball pair an aggravating cop-out.

The development difficulty here lies in the game’s draw itself. With player character casting its own algorithmic shadows and sharing colouring with the eponymous “dark”, the eyes become a necessity in order to let player remain in control of their position even with lights out. Still, it seems that it would have been possible to reach a workable solution without having to cheapen the look of the game itself with an animated Nickelodeon gaze.

An “art game” convention.

The lack of proper instruction is perhaps one of Dark’s greatest assets. On being dropped into the game proper, we assume that the rolling anthropomorphised shapes are enemies to be avoided. That these life-forms; the only living characters encountered throughout Dark’s lonely journey are immediately assumed to be hostile speaks loudly for Russell’s design approach for the title. There is no loss or consequence, only exploration.

An intriguing decision is the inclusion of glimmering baubles littered throughout the games five stages. Acting as hints as to direction, these twinkling obtainables are occasionally placed slightly out of the player’s natural derive, hinting at a purpose outside of path finding. However, there is a quandary of purposefulness in the lack of reward or acknowledgement for collection. In two trips through the games short journey, both ignoring and actively pursuing the trinkets, I found little difference in my experience. While we can speculate, as per the placement of the harmless triangular beings, that the collection (or non-collection) is a comment on gaming convention as per Braid’s infuriating star hunt, in Dark’s case the decision seems less clear-cut, lacking the conviction of Jonathan Blow’s time-manipulation puzzler.

Stuck in gum.

Particularly irritating is the game’s loose, floaty control. While precision is demanded with no great frequency, the finicky system for jumping is impossible to ignore. Your character feels sticky with its diamond complexion contributing to a difficulty in platform navigation: its midpoints sometimes sticking on hovering edges like a jumper snagged on a door handle. The avatar’s indecision as to which surfaces offer ample jumping propulsion is a strange but unfortunately common occurrence. In a niggling concern, when leaping from angled platforms, the game sometimes demands a positional shift before accepting its command. Though progress is seldom impeded by these control issues, it is worth noting the minor frustration in falling from height despite tapping A as your character careens down a moving platform’s galvanised edge.

This minor issue prevents a true symbiosis between player and gameworld as total absorption is lost momentarily. Perhaps an excusable irritant in a standard run and jump, but a jarringly disappointing shudder during such serene focus.

A few other points worth mentioning:

• At 80 MS Points, Dark is an absolute steal. Still, if short on currency, the downloadable trial allows you to experience the game’s best stage.  Negotiating the colour wheel (as depicted by the box art) is by far the game’s defining moment, the move from a freezing, all-encompassing murk to a sudden influx of warm light a phenomenological joy.
• Do not play Dark on mute. In dialling down the volume you’d miss what is possibly the best implemented, most professional sound track currently featured on an XBLIG title.
• It is possible to jump to any stage from the very beginning. Although it is nice to be presented with the option, it is hard to know why you’d want to skip a section on first play.
• Dark is indeed only 20-30 minutes long. While it is difficult not to come away from the game’s conclusion with the desire for more, the negligible length should not leave you feeling short-changed. As a tightly paced proof of concept it delivers in droves.

Dark’s position as an “art game” is questionable. While quite possibly the truest example on the service of a game exhibiting an “art game” mentality, somehow it is the very absence of pretentious, textual twaddle that is both its saving gaming grace, and its title placard shun. Where a title like Time Flows But Does Not Return actively boasts of its attempt to “use gameplay as a way to express” or “communicate with others”, Dark is content to present itself as a videogame first and foremost, with any ideas or thoughts generated of clear secondary importance.

What the game does achieve is a wonderful example of a production capable only through the interactive medium of gaming.  Ignoring 2D platforming archetype, Andrew Russell builds an eerily soothing space reliant on few of the genre’s rules.  Though light on actual puzzles and platforming, Dark is an excellent exercise in atmosphere suited perfectly to occasional playthroughs in excited, exploratory observation. Despite being let down by aspects of art direction and control, the game remains more than a sum of its parts.

You should play this game if’¦

…you fancy a compositionally short but long-memorable artistic experience sans pressure and platforming convention.

Final Score

Slight criticism aside, Dark is a confident foray and gentle borderline entrance into art gaming exhibiting a rare mastery of atmosphere through its namesake aesthetic and gorgeous soundtrack.

(What does this score mean?)