Truck Driving Simulator ‘13
It’s an interesting reaction to have, because Kentucky Route Zero is at once highly plot-driven, and not really at all about advancing through a story. On the one hand, it’s one of the most classic hero’s journey narratives I’ve played in a while, with a protagonist who is both literally and metaphorically driven (ba-dum-tish) to reach his destination against increasingly improbable odds. But if ever there was a point-and-click game that wanted you to slow down and soak in the atmosphere, it’s Kentucky Route Zero.
However, the opening minutes of Kentucky Route Zero’s first episode do an incredibly elegant job of demonstrating what you get to do instead of taking a guided tour. Almost every spoken interaction in the game comes with multiple dialogue choices, allowing you to very quickly develop and reinforce your sense of main protagonist Conway and his character. A few of these choices have consequences, including the very first one in the game, which allows you to choose whether your elderly canine companion is a male dog named Homer, a female dog named Blue, or a nameless stray. It’s a minor decision in the grand scheme of things, but one that will subtly permanently alter your experience for that playthrough.
Most choices in this game, however, don’t directly affect anything. But they’re the opposite of unimportant. I once heard it said that modern narrative adventure games prefer to judge you on your attitude towards making decisions rather than the decisions themselves, and KRZ definitely has overtones of that. But the most important thing is how your dialogue choices shape the narrative in your mind, something that the game itself can’t measure for you.
For example: is Conway laconic or chatty? Terse with strangers or open and friendly? More inclined to crack a joke and move on or curiously pursue an intriguing statement? Or any of the above, depending on the situation? The array of options is always there, with nothing locked off even if your earlier choices render them technically untrue. Within a very short while I had a strong sense of who I thought Conway was, and almost always found a way to play him accordingly.
Kentucky Route Zero is, of course, melancholy and spooky and surreal and weird and moody and also has really great music, so it taking pride of place makes sheer mathematical sense, even if I still feel like giving a GOTY badge to a less-than-half-finished game is unusual and probably shouldn’t happen too often. But I’m glad that Kentucky Route Zero got to be an exception. Of course, I have the benefit of knowing something the RPS staffers of yore didn’t, namely: what happens next. And oh, there’s some good stuff still to come, past denizens of the treehouse. I hope you managed to keep up.
