I I woke up to the sound of rain hitting the window on the first floor. After recklessly drinking beer on a weeknight, I felt dizzy and rolled over with a groan. It’s only 7am. As I stare at the ceiling, half-lit by the eerie blue hue of my laptop, I feel the deadline for my article looming. Sighing, I half-heartedly shuffle to the kitchen, reluctantly pour myself a cup of coffee, and start my day again.
It’s similar to playing Apartment Story, a The Sims-style narrative thriller about a British games journalist named Arthur. It’s not often that I feel uncomfortable watching a video game, but this one was that’s right My experience as I sat at my real-world desk, peered into my tiny virtual apartment, and ordered my protagonist, Arthur, to shave, wash his hands, write, and make himself a boring dinner. It’s the opposite of the typical gaming power fantasy, voyeuristic life simulator for adults, and it’s fascinating.
Created by Glaswegian independent developer Sean Wenham, this film-length, replayable thriller depicts the lonely life of reclusive Arthur, who becomes embroiled in rapidly escalating situations. The thriller elements made me uncomfortable. Instead, watching Arthur dance, urinate, and noisily peek into his absent flatmate’s room made me want to play through it again. It’s an eerily well-observed, adult twist on the idea of a life sim. The meter keeps track of Arthur’s basic needs, such as hunger, fatigue, and hygiene. I took a perverted pleasure in accepting the monotony of his existence.
Featuring an attractive low-poly art style that’s somewhere between PS2-era Grand Theft Auto and 2000’s The Sims, this two-hour game takes place almost entirely in an authentic, unassuming apartment. It will be done. DVD cases littered the cheap shelves at IKEA. The dusty mantelpiece is adorned with knick-knacks, and when I check the contents of the fridge for anything resembling a decent meal, it’s an uncomfortably familiar facsimile of modern life in my mid-late twenties. . The 27-year-old protagonist spends most of her days writing, cleaning, and worrying about paying her bills while looking out at the rainy British streets.
Tap the directional button and your cracked cell phone screen will display your incoming messages and dwindling bank balance. As I brush away dead plants and ignore incoming emails, I hear the quiet hum of foreboding, the eerie sense of dread of being trapped in a pandemic-era home wafting through Apartment Stories. You can make Arthur shave, get him drunk, make him walk around in his boxers, watch porn, and even rearrange his belongings pointlessly. As I diligently washed virtual dishes in Arthur’s shiny kitchen, I became painfully aware of the very real messy dishes left on the countertops around me.
But as other characters are introduced and Apartment Story veers into bombastic thriller territory, it loses some of its monotonous charm. What begins as a thought-provoking meditation on modern existence begins to unravel as Arthur quickly finds himself drawn into dangerous situations by his former flatmate Diane. As the threat escalates and a hidden gun is discovered, the authentically observed reenactment of modern existence verges on farce. The increasingly surreal threats escalate, and the game’s other two characters are also unconvincing. It’s a shame that there hasn’t been a more satisfying blend of thriller storytelling and life sim elements. Probably the best course of action is to avoid the storyline entirely, ignore the doorbell and just keep cooking, smoking weed, and vibing to the music.
Apartment Story is a feature film about loneliness, repetition, and adult life, and it’s unlike anything I’ve done before. With a little more time and scope, with a little more access to Arthur’s wider life, this could have been a cult classic rather than a cult curio. But even though an indie debut could capture such a grim atmosphere so effortlessly and for less than a pint in London, Apartment Story still feels like an easy piece to recommend.
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Source: www.theguardian.com
