Funicular Simulator 2021, by Mary Godden and Tom Leather
Much like The Golden Heist, I’d been looking forward to Funicular Simulator 2021 just on the strength of its title. Oddly, I’m a sucker for a good transit-themed game – I’m thinking of the waking-dream fugue of What the Bus in last year’s Comp, or the meditative hangout-game Misty Hills in this year’s Spring Thing. I’m guessing this is partially because I kind of miss my public-transit commute, 18 months into COVID (I used to get a lot of reading done!) Beyond this personal bias, though, I think public transportation is actually a great match with IF: transit is a liminal space, where you can encounter different people whose lives are very different – and while the destination is your own, someone else is driving, so you can sit back and enjoy the journey. Funicular Simulator 2021 is not really a transit-game in the sense I was expecting – there’s nothing quotidian about this trip, as the protagonist is climbing a very special mountain on the night of a once-in-a-lifetime aurora. But it wound up scratching the itch nonetheless, because it provides some of the same pleasures.
Belying its title, Funicular Simulator isn’t about the vehicle but about its passengers. The main gameplay consists of extended conversations with four different people, all of whom are ascending the mountain for the same basic reason – to check out the mountain’s mysterious phenomena – but who ascribe very different meaning to what they’re about to experience. You get to learn more about their backstories and what they’re hoping to find, and while the protagonist is a blank slate, by responding to the various characters and validating or denying their motivations, you can define why you’re at the mountain. Without spoiling too much, my takeaway was that this is about allowing the player to explore some of the common human responses to the numinous: to look to it for escape, for study, for comfort, or for distraction.
The game doesn’t posit these as exclusive choices, I don’t think, and doesn’t put its thumb on the scales for any in particular, allowing you to see the value in, as well as the counterarguments to, each worldview (though with that said, I found the artist to be a bit too callow to take seriously – perhaps that’s more about where I’m at in life than about anything in the game, though). You get multiple opportunities to engage with the four characters, and you spread your focus equally among them, or focus on just one or two to explore their conversations more deeply. Replay shows that there isn’t a huge amount of branching in terms of the content of what they say, but the different choices do feel like they portray the protagonist in a significantly different light, so I still found them satisfying.
The writing is strong throughout, taking sentiments that could be cliched, and events that could be far too abstract to be resonant, and making them sing. The understated visual design – which portrays the night progressing from the initial golden hour through midnight – aids the immersion. It all leads to a final, ultimate choice that’s lightly shaped by how you’ve spent your time on the journey. The stakes for this choice weren’t completely clear to me, nor am I sure how much changes based on your decision. But the ending I got was poetical, and felt like it organically built on what came before, so much so that I don’t feel tempted to take the journey again and make different choices just for the sake of it.
Highlight: I found the conversation with the pilgrim character really well-done and personally resonant – her situation could be played for melodrama, but the grounded dialogue and unique worldview she offered made her stand out.
Lowlight: Some of the sequences when you reach the mountain struck me as a little too much on the far side of oblique, but if so it’s a close-run thing.
How I failed the author: I played this one late at night, after a day of Henry not sleeping well at all. But again I think this wound up being good, since even though this meant I don’t think I appreciated the prose as much as I should have done, my zonked-out brain found a lot emotional heft in the game that I might not have been able to appreciate as clearly if I’d been feeling sharper (you ever notice how pregnant with meaning the world can seem at 5 AM when you’ve been up all night?)