S2: Constantly Changing World
Where there is smoke, there is soon fire in this ever-evolving environment.
"Wildfire" by USFWS/Southeast is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0.
Firewatch, released 2016, developed by Campo Santo, available on PC, Switch, PlayStation, and Xbox.
I pull the walkie talkie to my face to make a snarky quip to my remote companion, but stop short - and stop walking entirely - when I notice all the changes in my surroundings.
The summer began with crisp inky black skies at night and the satisfying crinkle of dried leaves under my boots. It has evolved into a hostile environment of smoke-choked skies and hostile, ember-filled groves.
I pull out my map to double check my location. Yes, it seems I’m exactly where I thought I was, at least in terms of latitude and longitude. But, the very notion of “where” is a tricky subject when it changes so significantly, so quickly, like it does in Firewatch.
Many games simply don’t consider the passage of time at all. If you poke at the narrative, sure, time has passed, but it isn’t reflected in the experience. Most worlds are entirely static until a specific action is taken, which is unnatural and bizarre. In contrast, Firewatch puts the passage of time front and center and does so in foliage and, well, fire. It sets the tone of every scene, escalates the pacing, drives a real sense of urgency, and adds a dynamic coat of paint to its otherwise limited geography.
Media demonstrates the passage of time in so many ways. The first season of Friends features absurd hair styles that will never return to fashion, as well as jeans and shirts that inexplicably have. As the show progresses through its seasons, so do the casts’ clothing and relationships.
Like counting the rings on a tree, you can guess where a player is in a Japanese RPG by counting the number of characters in their party (or the size of their sword). Player level is a classic indicator of investment, but that’s often a player-facing construct, not one your character recognizes. Nobody within the world of Elden Ring recognized my tarnished knight as a “level 150.”
Firewatch is a four hour game featuring exploration, limited environmental interaction, and dialog. But, thanks to its Constantly Changing World, it punches above its weight and gains benefits that are typically exclusive to much heftier games.
Every step on the hike contains degrees of Variance, Consequence, and YOLO. You care about where you are, instead of chasing a waypoint. You notice that a group of trees you photographed earlier now look different. You wonder if the developers will let you finish the narrative they are presenting, or if there is a surprise twist that ends in ash.
Variance is the most glaring benefit and the best place for me to begin my argument. Typically, games send you to a new area for variance. The beach region becomes the forest region. This swamp has poison.
This method is fine in a linear experience, but if players can return, or are expected to backtrack, a mere coat of paint isn’t sufficient. The backtrack means the player should have a new goal on their second visit: new secrets to find or doors to open. This requires new keys or abilities (think Metroid).
Firewatch alters your surroundings, almost every day, in subtle and dramatic ways. Due to the intensity and frequency of these changes, Firewatch sends you back to the same paths with no new gameplay, but the variance quotient is still met. Change, it seems, can be more enticing than new. Familiar, but different, is at the very least, intriguing.
It reminds me of a tasting flight of wine. If you sample three Zinfandels side-by-side in sequence, you can appreciate and taste the distinction. It is much more difficult to compare two completely different zones in a game than it is to see the same familiar zone altered.
Another benefit to the Firewatch method of variance is its level of integration. Most games take the Floor is Lava approach. The game sends you on a detour and into a zone with distinct rules. For example, here, the floor is lava. But, it is additive content that is not integrated. This makes it more difficult to make it meaningful, simply as more adhesive is required. In Mario, this is fine. There is no narrative or overarching feeling. It’s a collection of platforming experiences. But, in Tomb Raider, it feels exactly like it’s presented: a collection of new levels. Ah, how convenient Lara must avoid the lava, whereas previously it was rather chilly. What a globetrotter, this Lara.
Players are sophisticated. We know when we’re being fed more content. We appreciate it. We often pay for it in the form of DLC. But, changing the rules and the flow of the lava on familiar streets isn’t just more, but a real difference. I’m not tapping next to keep going but sitting up to see what changed.
Another example to demonstrate my case: In Hollow Knight, the Forgotten Crossroads become infected. Paths are cut off and new enemies arrive. It is very cool and makes a bigger impact than being shown a new area while maintaining the old one.
I think this fundamentally forces our brains to reconsider and adjust. If you walk down the street every day on your morning walk, you observe houses through one perspective. However, if you were to walk down that street from the opposite direction, on the other side of the street, you would see an entirely different series of things. It is the same, but different. It is powerful variance, even though only a few things have changed.
Variance is key. But, so is Consequence. Many games want you to observe the epic stakes they are placed before you. Unfortunately, they focus exclusively on inputs and rarely bother to lead to a single output. As an example, let’s dig into Ghost of Tsushima.
This is a beautiful game about a samurai defending his homeland against brutal invaders. It has rich narrative themes of sacrifice, war, loyalty, and tradition. Each act is tied to a location. The first is a beautiful, lush mixture of grasslands and forest filled with blossoms. By the end, you’re in a cold, bleak, winter hellscape, filled only with burnt out shells of homes.
This seems like a changing world, but the reality is, you can just return to the initial lush area. You can eliminate every single Mongol fort on the map and still experience patrols. You might satisfy every request of a villager, but their life, behavior, and status won’t change.
Ghost of Tsushima is a world without consequence. No matter how rich your actions, no matter how epic the battles, in the end, the world and the people do not change. Is this a theme park or an interactive experience? You’re felling trees left and right in the woods and yet there are no sounds.
In Firewatch, you are spending the summer aggravating drunken campers and looking for fires. Spoilers, but a fire emerges and as the days progress, smoke fills the air. Wildfire Firefighters setup camps for you to investigate, areas are closed off, and smoke fills the air. No, you did not start the fire, but you’re simmering within the consequences. The fire also mimics the narrative tone as the tension and danger rises, so do the flames. As you begin to make poor decisions, the flames lick up over the canyon walls. Your character and the world go from carefree to singed and as a result, this small world, and your place in it, begin to matter.
Unlike Ghost of Tsushima, you cannot return to a pleasant, fire-free national park. There is only one park and it is rushing towards fiery destruction. This is a consequence. These are stakes.
Finally, in addition to Variance and Consequence, Firewatch leans into a sense of what the French call “YOLO.” The only constant in this game is change. The first act makes it very clear that the game, the stakes, and the world are going to change constantly. As a result, you take everything in. After all, you’ll only see each pathway as it exists just once. Right now.
In a typical game, there are enemies to dodge, swords to swing, and points to assign in a skill tree. In Firewatch, you are walking, talking, and occasionally looking closely at things. Without the typical elements of a core loop, you need a reason to pay attention. Firewatch has it.
Paths are strewn with clues, dialog triggered at exactly the right moment encourages you to stop and examine your surroundings, and once you know that change isn’t just possible, but common, you’re looking around to see what is new. Firewatch turns observation into a sword-swing like mechanism.
With Firewatch and The Forgotten City, I’ve really grown to appreciate small, dense spaces with a strong connection to the narrative and player decisions. Too many games chase breadth. They chase things to do. But, they don’t always arrive with purpose. We widely accept that personal growth in characters is essential for a story. Perhaps we need to more rigorously consider the same for our environments?
The One Cool Thing
Firewatch makes the passage of time a front and center concept with its Constantly Changing World. The dynamic setting means that you intuitively know where you are in the narrative, much like you do when eyeballing the remaining pages of a paperback. It complements the decisions of your character and adds a sense of intensity to a game without combat or direct conflict.
So many games fail to indicate any consequences of your actions, any heightened stakes or reflection of where things are at. That isn’t true of Firewatch and the result is a thing worth pondering.
Preview for Next Time
There is a game I think is pretty cool. Not sure you’ve heard of it…Grand Theft Auto V? I played GTA III in college and loved it. I played GTA IV after college and hated it. The fifth entry is the best selling game of all time, so I repressed my feelings about IV and dove in.
I loved V and had a great time finishing it in 2021. It featured so many great things, but the stand out, which I shockingly haven’t seen in another game, is, well, the topic of the next post. GTA V is available on PC, Xbox, and PlayStation and is often on sale.
Recommendation
Oxenfree is a brisk, short, interactive narrative experience that has outstanding voice acting. It is a Stranger Things-esque thriller about a group of high school aged friends caught in a science fiction mystery on an island off the Washington coast.
I already mentioned the voice acting, but I also want to give praise to the snappy dialog system and clever integration of its radio tuning mechanism. I played the game on Switch while taking a short weekend road trip and it was the perfect way to pass the time.
Edited by Joshua Buergel