LIMBO
(2010, T For Teen)
10/1/15
While I do enjoy the horror genre a lot, nowadays I don’t often willingly engage in a scary story for things like excessive amounts or gore, make-out scenes that precede an over-the-top kill, or excruciatingly drawn-out montages of physical torture (no pun intended). Of course, if any of these things add something to the story and its message or performance or both, that’s fine. Plus, I’m not the type to faint at the sight of blood. I just don’t want them to be the only things included for their own sake. (Now this is my personal opinion. I mean no disrespect to those who enjoy such stories.) My point is that, like any other genre but especially in horror, I prefer subtlety. I like reasoning behind the fearfulness of the world I’m experiencing—or if the reasoning isn’t clear, I at least want to be able to ponder it for myself. And what better way to explore these ideas in depth than through the interactivity of video games?
The closest thing to a plot—never mind, synopsis—that LIMBO offers is this single line: “Uncertain of his sister's fate, a boy enters LIMBO”. This concept is much less obviously presented in the game itself, but it is quite literally all that you will know going into it; everything else must be learned through play. Players take on the role of a small boy with no name, no face, and no identity—except for his glowing white eyes—who awakens in a bleak and colorless world. What this world is and how the boy got there are just a few of the many mysteries players will encounter, and it quickly becomes clear that it is filled with dangers not always apparent until it is too late.
Now I will admit: I’ve played very few horror-based video games in my life. Those I have played were arcade shooters like Area 51, Crypt Killer, and House of the Dead, and while I still have a blast with those to this day, they offer very little in terms of psychological depth and exploration of meaning. LIMBO is the first horror game that I’ve bought and owned that offers these, as well as the initial reason I bought an XBOX 360. (Yes, I’m aware how lame that may sound to some of the more hard-core game players out there; please bear with me.) LIMBO was first released in July 2010 on XBOX Live Arcade and is the first game made by Playdead, an independent game studio headquartered in Copenhagen, Denmark. Arnt Jensen co-founded Playdead along with his partner Dino Patti to put together the ideas that would eventually become LIMBO. Jensen wanted the game to have a specific aesthetic feel while keeping the controls simple—nothing but moving, jumping, pushing and pulling—and the gameplay straightforward so that players would have an easier time getting the hang of the game and, from there, have a more meaningful experience with it overall. LIMBO is a 2D puzzle-platform sidescroller presented in a sort of shadow-puppet-like style: the boy and the creatures and objects within are all black silhouettes against backgrounds of differing shades of black and white and grey. The visuals are grainy and dim, as if seen through an old film projector, and are reminiscent of film noir. Another fascinating aspect of LIMBO is that it has been called by its creators a “trial-and-death” game, in that the boy can—and will—die in a myriad of ways, from decapitation by a bear trap, to electrocution from a hotel’s neon sign, to being crushed or cut apart by mechanical equipment. And traps aren’t the only thing the boy and the player have to worry about. The boy must survive the wrath of other lifeforms such as giant spiders, which will strike and impale the boy with their long, hairy, claw-like legs; grotesque glowing larvae-like creatures called by fans names like “brain worms” or “brain slugs” because of how they will attach themselves to the boy’s head like a parasite, forcing him (and the player) to walk or run in a single direction without being able to stop; and, strangely enough, what appear to be other young boys which, for unknown reasons, will either try to kill the protagonist boy directly or avoid him while letting the deadly traps that they themselves have set up do the killing for them. (There is a “gore filter” option on the menu for more sensitive players who don’t want to see the death animations, made all the more gruesome because they happen to a child.) Due to the art style, many of the sinister traps aren’t always visible or obvious to the player as they tend to blend in with the environment; when they are, it’s usually only after they’ve killed you. Luckily, players are always put back very close to where they died, so they can get right back to solving the puzzle. There are no tutorials, cutscenes, loading times, dialogue, and text. While this may sound troublesome to an extent, the benefit of this is that the flow and the action will never be interrupted, letting the player be completely swept in.
What I personally love about LIMBO is its atmosphere and its symbolism. One doesn’t need to see or hear much to know this is a very tense and unwelcoming place. The choices made in sound design are incredible, especially given that the entire official soundtrack of LIMBO, composed by the masterful Martin Stig Andersen, is literally less than twenty minutes long. Interestingly, much of the game is comprised of only sound effects against a backdrop of silence, from the boy’s panting and footsteps as he runs, to the chirping, scurrying animals in the forest, to the cranking and banging of factory machinery in an abandoned city, adding to the feeling of desolation and loneliness. The actual music is generally comprised of single deep, echoing notes which match the game’s dark and dismal tone, as well as ambient notes that are as soft and fluid but deceptively surreal as the waters that swallow the boy up and drown him should he venture too deeply into them. The intentional lack of basic information regarding how the world of LIMBO works allows players to consider what the game means. This has left many, both players and critics alike, divided as it can leave one feeling either inspired or confused. In spite of this, numerous theories and ideas have been offered online based on players’ experience with it as well as what’s actually in the game. For example, one of the most popular and plausible pieces of evidence suggesting that the boy has in fact been dead throughout the game lies in the game’s title menu: just visible through the rain and washed-out light are some flies which hover over what could possibly be the outline of a small human body lying in the grass. The title itself suggests that the boy is in a kind of purgatory, since the word limbo derived from the Latin word, Limbus, which means “edge” (in this case indicative of “edge of hell”). With this in mind, what would you believe? Is the boy truly in Limbo, and if so, why? Did he do something so heinous in life that he is now fated to forever travel alone and unprotected through this harsh world? Or he could he be traveling in order to find atonement and reach heaven? And if his sister can be found, are either or both of them dead? What, if anything, do the traps, creatures, and environments represent? Is this entire experience just a dream? That’s for you to decide.
While not the first game to stand out for its artistic merit, it is one of the few that proves that a game doesn’t always have to be flashy or grand in order to garner praise. Depending on skill LIMBO can be completed in 2-6 hours. Short though this may seem, I believe it is better to end a brief but meaningful experience wanting more rather than sit through a longer one that is less than stellar. LIMBO is a perfect example of how less really can be more and still be able leave a lingering chill in the air and a philosophical conundrum in the mind.
CREDITS:
All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.
MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund
The closest thing to a plot—never mind, synopsis—that LIMBO offers is this single line: “Uncertain of his sister's fate, a boy enters LIMBO”. This concept is much less obviously presented in the game itself, but it is quite literally all that you will know going into it; everything else must be learned through play. Players take on the role of a small boy with no name, no face, and no identity—except for his glowing white eyes—who awakens in a bleak and colorless world. What this world is and how the boy got there are just a few of the many mysteries players will encounter, and it quickly becomes clear that it is filled with dangers not always apparent until it is too late.
Now I will admit: I’ve played very few horror-based video games in my life. Those I have played were arcade shooters like Area 51, Crypt Killer, and House of the Dead, and while I still have a blast with those to this day, they offer very little in terms of psychological depth and exploration of meaning. LIMBO is the first horror game that I’ve bought and owned that offers these, as well as the initial reason I bought an XBOX 360. (Yes, I’m aware how lame that may sound to some of the more hard-core game players out there; please bear with me.) LIMBO was first released in July 2010 on XBOX Live Arcade and is the first game made by Playdead, an independent game studio headquartered in Copenhagen, Denmark. Arnt Jensen co-founded Playdead along with his partner Dino Patti to put together the ideas that would eventually become LIMBO. Jensen wanted the game to have a specific aesthetic feel while keeping the controls simple—nothing but moving, jumping, pushing and pulling—and the gameplay straightforward so that players would have an easier time getting the hang of the game and, from there, have a more meaningful experience with it overall. LIMBO is a 2D puzzle-platform sidescroller presented in a sort of shadow-puppet-like style: the boy and the creatures and objects within are all black silhouettes against backgrounds of differing shades of black and white and grey. The visuals are grainy and dim, as if seen through an old film projector, and are reminiscent of film noir. Another fascinating aspect of LIMBO is that it has been called by its creators a “trial-and-death” game, in that the boy can—and will—die in a myriad of ways, from decapitation by a bear trap, to electrocution from a hotel’s neon sign, to being crushed or cut apart by mechanical equipment. And traps aren’t the only thing the boy and the player have to worry about. The boy must survive the wrath of other lifeforms such as giant spiders, which will strike and impale the boy with their long, hairy, claw-like legs; grotesque glowing larvae-like creatures called by fans names like “brain worms” or “brain slugs” because of how they will attach themselves to the boy’s head like a parasite, forcing him (and the player) to walk or run in a single direction without being able to stop; and, strangely enough, what appear to be other young boys which, for unknown reasons, will either try to kill the protagonist boy directly or avoid him while letting the deadly traps that they themselves have set up do the killing for them. (There is a “gore filter” option on the menu for more sensitive players who don’t want to see the death animations, made all the more gruesome because they happen to a child.) Due to the art style, many of the sinister traps aren’t always visible or obvious to the player as they tend to blend in with the environment; when they are, it’s usually only after they’ve killed you. Luckily, players are always put back very close to where they died, so they can get right back to solving the puzzle. There are no tutorials, cutscenes, loading times, dialogue, and text. While this may sound troublesome to an extent, the benefit of this is that the flow and the action will never be interrupted, letting the player be completely swept in.
What I personally love about LIMBO is its atmosphere and its symbolism. One doesn’t need to see or hear much to know this is a very tense and unwelcoming place. The choices made in sound design are incredible, especially given that the entire official soundtrack of LIMBO, composed by the masterful Martin Stig Andersen, is literally less than twenty minutes long. Interestingly, much of the game is comprised of only sound effects against a backdrop of silence, from the boy’s panting and footsteps as he runs, to the chirping, scurrying animals in the forest, to the cranking and banging of factory machinery in an abandoned city, adding to the feeling of desolation and loneliness. The actual music is generally comprised of single deep, echoing notes which match the game’s dark and dismal tone, as well as ambient notes that are as soft and fluid but deceptively surreal as the waters that swallow the boy up and drown him should he venture too deeply into them. The intentional lack of basic information regarding how the world of LIMBO works allows players to consider what the game means. This has left many, both players and critics alike, divided as it can leave one feeling either inspired or confused. In spite of this, numerous theories and ideas have been offered online based on players’ experience with it as well as what’s actually in the game. For example, one of the most popular and plausible pieces of evidence suggesting that the boy has in fact been dead throughout the game lies in the game’s title menu: just visible through the rain and washed-out light are some flies which hover over what could possibly be the outline of a small human body lying in the grass. The title itself suggests that the boy is in a kind of purgatory, since the word limbo derived from the Latin word, Limbus, which means “edge” (in this case indicative of “edge of hell”). With this in mind, what would you believe? Is the boy truly in Limbo, and if so, why? Did he do something so heinous in life that he is now fated to forever travel alone and unprotected through this harsh world? Or he could he be traveling in order to find atonement and reach heaven? And if his sister can be found, are either or both of them dead? What, if anything, do the traps, creatures, and environments represent? Is this entire experience just a dream? That’s for you to decide.
While not the first game to stand out for its artistic merit, it is one of the few that proves that a game doesn’t always have to be flashy or grand in order to garner praise. Depending on skill LIMBO can be completed in 2-6 hours. Short though this may seem, I believe it is better to end a brief but meaningful experience wanting more rather than sit through a longer one that is less than stellar. LIMBO is a perfect example of how less really can be more and still be able leave a lingering chill in the air and a philosophical conundrum in the mind.
CREDITS:
All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.
MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund
EPISODE SONG:
“Monochrome” - Briand Morrison (arranged by Erika Adams)
“Monochrome” - Briand Morrison (arranged by Erika Adams)
All other music and sound clips are from the video game, LIMBO (directed by Arnt Jensen; developed by Playdead; published by Playdead and Microsoft Game Studios)
OST SONGS:
“Menu”
“Sister”
“Boy’s Fort”
“City”
“Rotating Room”
“Gravity Jump”
Download the full 15-minute episode here!
LIMBO on Wikipedia
Playdead on Wikipedia
Playdead's Official Website
Buy and Play LIMBO on Steam
Buy LIMBO on Playstation Network
Buy LIMBO on Google Play
Buy LIMBO at GameStop
Buy LIMBO on Amazon
^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
OST SONGS:
“Menu”
“Sister”
“Boy’s Fort”
“City”
“Rotating Room”
“Gravity Jump”
Download the full 15-minute episode here!
LIMBO on Wikipedia
Playdead on Wikipedia
Playdead's Official Website
Buy and Play LIMBO on Steam
Buy LIMBO on Playstation Network
Buy LIMBO on Google Play
Buy LIMBO at GameStop
Buy LIMBO on Amazon
^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences