REVIEW : Wayward Strand (PC)
Wayward Strand is a slice of life. When it comes to video games, that phrase is usually applied to games that depict mundane, everyday activities. These are frequently chores disguised and gamified as objectives, even quests.
Wayward Strand, on the other hand, is not like that. It has no goals, objectives, task checklists, quests, or any specific measure of progress or success. It’s a slice-of-life game that allows you to explore its small surroundings at your leisure and allows you to dwell in the quiet moments, when you’re at a loss for direction or something to say, and maybe even a little bored. That’s perfectly fine.
Wayward Strand is, in fact, a slice of life. When it comes to video games, that phrase is usually applied to games that depict mundane, everyday activities. These are frequently chores disguised and gamified as objectives, even quests.
Wayward Strand, on the other hand, is not like that. It has no goals, objectives, task checklists, quests, or any specific measure of progress or success. It’s a slice-of-life game that allows you to explore its small surroundings at your leisure and allows you to dwell in the quiet moments, when you’re at a loss for direction or something to say, and maybe even a little bored. That’s perfectly fine.
There are patients to speak with, elderly men and women suffering from a variety of unspecified ailments. Casey can inquire about specific personal belongings in their rooms, inquire about why they’re in the hospital, inquire about their lives before arriving on the airship, or simply pass the time with small talk. Casey’s youth and nascent reporter instinct give her the naivety to ask what would otherwise be awkward questions.
Each patient is brought to life beautifully through vivid character art, consistent voice performances (it’s especially heartwarming to hear so many different Australian accents in one video game), and simple animations that sketch just enough detail into all the right places.
The cast is uniformly interesting, credible, and memorable, their tones and mannerisms lingering in the memory long after you’ve stepped away, from Ida’s grandmotherly goodwill to Mr Avery’s lettered pretension. Their stories aren’t as bleak as you might think. Of course, mortality casts a long shadow over many conversations, but there are also plenty of humorous moments.
Time passes, whether you’re taking the lift down to the cafeteria for lunch or stopping by Tomi’s room to see if the watering can she uses to water her plants needs to be refilled. Every character has a scripted schedule for the day and will go about their business as planned, which means that events will take place throughout the airship even if Casey is not present to witness them.
You’ll enter scenes halfway through, leave them before they’re resolved, and even miss them entirely as the minutes pass. Even though the clock is constantly ticking, there is no sense of urgency here. Quite the contrary, and there’s a special joy to be found in the moments when Casey thought she was just minding her own business and then events descend upon her. “What is this, Swanston and Bourke?” When the room suddenly and unexpectedly filled with people for various reasons, one character cracked a joke.
Casey keeps a notebook, as any aspiring or professional journalist should, in which she records her observations of the dozen or so main characters she meets on the airship.
She’s ostensibly taking notes for a school newspaper article about her experience. However, it also serves as a diegetic guide, the game only nods to any sort of progression framework, refreshing your memory of each person and subtly suggesting where you might find more of someone’s personal story. It’s the tiniest of details.
