What year is it?
Holy crap, am I still doing this? Back in October, I said I would finish this series before the end of November. It’s January. The middle of January. I just released the Red Rope review.
Ah geez.
Go read that review and set a timer for April. If I don’t write something by then, I’m in mortal danger. Mortal danger of becoming a lazy arse.
Ha, funny.
Running Down the Clock
Red Rope: Don’t Fall Behind+ came out on the Switch on November 6th, 2020, almost one year ago. I had hoped to finish the Red Rope walkthrough before that date, and theoretically, I still can if I release a video a week. Ultimately, I had wanted to finish by its anniversary in order to launch a contest, challenging people to beat Player 2 and my score. The video walkthrough would make it easier for people to do that and ideally make it so more people play the game.
I will like still hold the contest, but people may have to settle for an incomplete series. I will plan to finish the walkthrough, and my new deadline will be the end of November. At that time, I will welcome a new addition to my household, and it is very unlikely I will have any brain power to finish a series then.
As such, I have editing to do. I hope to release the Red Rope review by this time next week! We will see if that happens, but that’s how it goes.
Characters in the Halls of the Labyrinth
Here is a list of the characters you will find upon starting the game. I have provided the names I have used or will use in the videos along with the names given by their developers.
NPCs:
Enemies:
A Message More Than a Game
Fractured Minds should not be reviewed as a traditional video game. Emily Mitchell designed the game by herself over the course of nine months for a BAFTA contest, and she intended to send a message rather than create the next Celeste or Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice. However, my neuroticism will never forgive me if I do not review Fractured Minds and give it a score. As such, for my sake, I have developed a quick review here for my records. For a more relevant overview of the game, see the attached video.
What is it?
Fractured Minds offers six chapters, all focused on an element of mental illmess (specifically anxiety and depression). You take control of an unseen character who must solve simple puzzles in order to progress to the next chapter. These puzzles pose little challenge and exist largely to guide you in exploring each environment. A Slenderman-like monsters follows you throughout the story while a narrator points you in the right direction while criticizing most of your actions. The game can be completed in under 25 minutes, allowing you to reflect on the entire experience in one sitting.
What’s good?
The visuals are clean (albeit simplistic), and the soundtrack caters well to the overall tone of Fractured Minds. Most of the themes conveyed through the chapters (loneliness, stress, self-doubt) will resonate with almost everyone. Ms. Mitchell’s message at the end of the game is also heart-warming and motivational, and I imagine many will find comfort or encouragement from her words.
What could be improved?
The controls are imprecise, and the camera can be difficult to tame. Although neither affect the gameplay significantly, they are distracting. As a traditional game, Fractured Minds does not offer inventive puzzles or unique gameplay mechanics, so unless you buy into the mental health message, you will find little to entice you. More chapters would have also been welcome in addition to a more developed ending, allowing Ms. Mitchell to explore mental illness more in-depth.
What’s the verdict?
Above all else, Fractured Minds offers us a window into Ms. Mitchell’s experiences, one which allows us to relate to her or understand what mental illness can be. For those looking for a game like Night in the Woods or Gone Home, you may want to look elsewhere. For those who are unfamiliar with mental illness or who have begun to struggle with symptoms of depression and anxiety, the game may be a worthwhile download to begin one’s exploration into psychology, mental illness, and recovery.
Sometimes I wake up suddenly, usually because the bathroom beckons for me. In that miasma between consciousness and coma, I recognize I had some sort of dream, but that’s it. If I focus hard enough and don’t fall asleep on the toilet, I can eventually piece together what I experienced. If I can’t, I’m left with the general emotion caused by the dream. Nightmares spawn unease mixed with morbid curiosity. Scene-by-scene replays of my previous day elicit annoyance, boredom, or anxiety. My fantastical adventures result in a confusing mixture of both glee and disappointment. All those dreams of me peeing myself just aggravate my bladder more.
These little dream anecdotes serve two purposes for this journal. For one, they bolster my word count. For two, my memories of my previous videos are similarly hazy. I recorded this “fourth” video on 6/6/19, and I’m writing this description nine days later. I remember that I had tried 13 times to record this damned video, and I faintly recall that I had originally intended to write this journal about how my failed attempts resulted in beneficial practice time. At this point, however, my mind doesn’t hold the right sentiment to make some thoughtful message about growing from failures. All I have are some vague emotions: frustration about the recording process and relief that I succeeded to completing a full run on video.
The logical thing to do here is to re-watch the video, but like a dream about losing my adult teeth spontaneously, I’m not eager to relive the moment, especially after I have seen it already. For today, sloth is my companion. However, if you have any thoughts, send them my way.