I had to let go of Pacific Drive, the unconventional fiction-inspired driving survival game I recommended last week. It’s not because it’s bad, not because it’s great, but because I invested over 20 hours of my time and now I’m short on it.
Furthermore, if I’m completely honest, it caught me off guard. In this game, you drive a beat-up old car and venture deeper into long-abandoned exclusion zones, exploring the anomalies you encounter. These anomalies range from pillars that suddenly emerge from the ground to menacing hurricanes that alter roads, all of which are thrilling, unique, and eerie.
However, what deterred me were the tourists. Occasionally, I’d spot a mannequin-like figure frozen in a menacing pose, seemingly harmless. But, when I looked away, I noticed it would sometimes change position or get closer to me. Uh-uh. No, thank you. That’s a hard pass right there.
Every review I read about Pacific Drive emphasizes how attached the reviewer becomes to their rickety old car, their sole companion on this enigmatic journey. They gradually repair and enhance the car with better parts and Ghostbusters-like gadgets to navigate the challenges of the outside world.
“I’m behind the wheel with a massive floodlight mounted on the side of the car for night missions, a contraption that (somehow) synthesizes fuel from the mysterious zone’s atmosphere, and an actual lifesaver. I also have a gadget that occasionally heals me,” PC gamer Christopher Livingston shares. “Most importantly, I possess a force field that I can activate to thwart that pesky hovering freak from grabbing parts of my car and scampering off. It’s like playing a tug-of-war game with my car. And here’s an actual quote from me the first time I saw a darn monster bouncing harmlessly off my shimmering energy shield: Hahaha! Take that! I adore this darn car.”
Kratos and his trusty ax in God of War: Ragnarok. Photo: Sony
I too felt this bond. The car was a sanctuary on Pacific Drive, but it also required attention, diligently tending to every scratch after each run and meticulously applying duct tape and Magic Repair resin to mend the wounds. It felt like it had a soul. Over time, quirks develop in your car, like the windshield wipers always going off when you open the car door, or the horn blaring at the wrong times. To rectify this, you must deduce the root of the problem through a simple engineering puzzle, or you can let it be. You get accustomed to the quirky horn.
I often experience this anthropomorphism of inanimate objects in games, particularly when it comes to vehicles. In Halo, I’d always try to stick with the same warthog throughout the levels, even when it was wildly impractical, driving it through alien bases teeming with zombie-like beings. It was my Warthog. Portal capitalizes on this notion when the malevolent AI GLaDOS bestows upon you the Weighted Companion Cube. I was compelled to carry it faithfully until it was incinerated as part of the game.
I also developed a fondness for specific weapons and outlandish armor in games like Monster Hunter to the point where I hesitated to part with them, even when superior alternatives were available. I distinctly recall forming a profound bond with Kratos’ axe in God of War and how it always returned to my grasp with a satisfying thud after being hurled. I would get exceedingly anxious, fearing I had forgotten to recall it and inadvertently abandoned it amidst the ruins. (Logically impossible, but the concern persisted nonetheless.)
This type of attachment is distinct from the emotional connection to video game characters, who, like all fictional characters, are typically crafted to evoke our sentiments. It’s more akin to the affection one might hold for their favorite mug or childhood bicycle. I presumed this idiosyncrasy was unique to me until I delved into other individuals’ encounters with Pacific Drive, only to discover that others, too, have cultivated a peculiar fixation with virtual cars. It’s both reassuring and engrossing to hear about.
Evidently, humans have been forging emotional connections with game elements since antiquity, so perhaps it’s not as eccentric as it initially appears.
Source: www.theguardian.com
