Sea of Solitude explores the terrors of loneliness, what it means to be human
By TODD MARTENS | Los Angeles Times | Published: July 19, 2019
We’re accustomed to games, even the most nuanced, beginning with a clear problem: an outlaw on the run, a world in peril, a loved one kidnapped and held hostage by a gorilla.
Sea of Solitude, however, starts with an overwhelmed plea, a phrase spoken with equal amounts of desperation and hopelessness: “Change me.”
These words might be familiar to anyone who’s battled anxiety, depression or even had a sleepless night, and this is how we meet Kay, a teenage girl whose once-human form has been replaced with demon-red eyes and feathers darkened as if by an oil spill. Though monstrous, we’re not scared of her; Kay seems afraid, fatigued and ailing.
We will in moments meet a proper monster. And though some of these creatures have the ability to swallow Kay whole, death never appears to be their ultimate goal, not when emotional manipulation will slowly and more excruciatingly allow someone to gradually kill off everything they love about themselves.
“You have no idea what you’re doing — as usual,” they may say. Or more crassly: “Ugly runs in your family.”
Electronic Arts published Sea of Solitude, an exploration into the terrors of loneliness from Cornelia Geppert’s Berlin-based Jo-Mei Games. Prior to Sea of Solitude, the company survived by developing mobile and browser games for third-party clients.
Sea of Solitude is not a game-as-medicine; at times, its tenseness borders on survival horror, requiring Kay to evade ghastly forms. The Geppert-directed game works in metaphorical ways, putting emotion ahead of plot and making the argument that interactive entertainment should speak as thoughtfully about mental health as film, television and music, where works such as “Maniac,” “Us” or even the songs of Billie Eilish have inspired conversations about what it means to be human.
While Sea of Solitude is far from the first game to look honestly and seriously at weighty subject matter, it advances the notion that play is a storytelling device and not just a means for competition or puzzle-solving.
“I want them to enjoy the ride,” Geppert says of her goal for those who play Sea of Solitude. Yet she also wants those who experience the game to walk away with a different idea of what winning means.
“I want people to see that whatever you are up to — whatever your next goal is — it’s not about that you come out at the end with the perfect score, that you’re the superhero and everything will be fine. That is not the case. This is about having a more calm way of going through life, and that you will know that bad times will come again, and very good times will come again, no matter what you do.”
While topics related to mental health aren’t new to games, they’re far from the norm. Ninja Theory’s Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice used action and horror elements to delve into psychosis while Accidental Queens’ mobile Another Lost Phone: Laura’s Story tackled themes of sexual identity, bullying and domestic abuse.
Night in the Woods from Infinite Fall tackled coming-of-age existentialism and post-traumatic stress disorder. And with Psychonauts, Double Fine Presents sought to explore, with exaggeration, mind games and emotional stress. A sequel for the latter is due next year, and while the “Psychonauts” games specialize in action and humor, they also carry plenty of heart.
“I think Psychonauts is a very humanist game,” says creator and Double Fine founder Tim Schafer. “It’s very empathetic to those characters; even the villain is redeemed. You go inside his head and learn about childhood and you literally see him fight his personal demons. It helps you understand him as a person. I think that is the philosophy of Psychonauts.
“Even though we get into issues of mental illness, and we do it with comedy, we treat characters with respect,” he continues. “We draw upon personal experiences with those issues rather than just stereotypes.”
What makes Sea of Solitude so enrapturing is that it truly feels like one is learning to understand Geppert’s personal experience. Though developed with a team of 12, Sea of Solitude unfolds like a conversation between the player and designer.
When we meet a fearsome bird, the narrator stops us from running, telling us the character is sad rather than predatory. Such small moments upend the idea of villain and victim and make it clear that Sea of Solitude is ultimately a quest for understanding.
Geppert pauses while dialing down into such topics, wanting to stress that she is not a medical professional. “I need to say it again; this is a personal story,” she says. “I didn’t write it to show a specific way to become more healthy.
“Sharing is a good thing in general. I’m a person that is very open with emotions. I have this voice, and I love to share. Other people can look at me and say, ‘There’s someone opening up. I can do that too.’ ”
There is an underlying mystery to Sea of Solitude. We immediately want to know what happened to Kay to transform her and how she can be normal again. But that question fades before we’ve finished so much as an hour of the game. While Kay may not look human, she is far from abnormal.
Sea of Solitude is not a game about curing Kay of the monster who has taken her over; it’s a game about understanding that we all have something of a monster inside us, and maybe sometimes that in itself is normal.
“When there is a hard hit in life, when something hits you hard, you look at your life and think, ‘What is going on with me? What are my issues? How can I be more common-like?’ Sometimes that’s in your 20s. Sometimes that’s in your 30s. Sometimes it’s in your 60s. It doesn’t have a time, but everyone has that.
“This,” she says, “is figuring out life always contains hard parts. You can’t remove them forever. It’s just the way you deal with hardships — that’s what you can improve. But it’s impossible to forever become completely happy.”
Platforms: PS4, XBOX One, PC