Free Game Friday: Orchids to Dusk
You seem to have crash landed onto an article in which I, Ed, and not Emily, am hosting #FreeGameFriday.
Captain Olimar’s older brother was tending to his beloved orchids as he heard an unmistakeable ping from his iPhone 6 laying on the bench across the garden. He perked his head up, dropped his trowel and attempted to brush the sweat trickling off his forehead with zero success; living in space had its upsides, but he’d never got used to the glass bowl encircling his face. Unlocking his phone, a big red message was splayed across the screen, “Hey, I’ve managed to get myself into quite the pickle lol. Managed to crash-land on this weird planet. Was only looking to pick up the new Fifa xD. Don’t worry too much, it’s actually quite nice here, and these multi-coloured turnips follow me about. But yeah, if you could try and find me? I shouldn’t be too far from yours…maybe use the new Facebook feature, should let you know when I’m nearby. Thanks! Olimar xx” Shaking his head in puzzlement, he replied, “Ur n idiot.”
Scouring space was no mean feat and he’d been at it for hours. Still no notification that Olimar was nearby. Just as he was about to crack open a Capri-Sun, the deafening sound of alarm bells jolted him away from the cooler-box. What on earth?
And this is how I believe Orchids to Dusk starts. Although it doesn’t present you with any plot, I like to think that what I’ve described accurately summarises why you’re seated in a space-pod, resolutely awaiting a crash-landing as if it was someone elses fault. Thanks to Olimar’s incompetence, you’ve now got yourself into an arguably worse scenario, that’s actually pretty dark all things considered.
So whilst Olimar frolicks with his Pikmin, you’ve got five minutes to explore the mysterious planet you’ve ended up on before you run out of oxygen. It’s a raw deal, but remaining optimistic, it’s rather beautiful. You walk by clicking the left mouse button, and can move in a certain direction by waving the mouse around. Right-clicking allows you to lock the camera in place and view the world in a panoramic manner, whilst holding both left and right mouse buttons allows you to walk and observe your surroundings. If you want to hurry things up, you can hold down shift which causes you to sprint forwards. I don’t know why you would though, it’s a game that dumps you in a disastrous scenario but there’s no need to rush the experience. With only a few minutes to live it would seem rather counter-intuitive to take your time. But that’s what Orchids to Dusk encourages, and in turn it causes many of life’s questions to spring to mind as you quietly traipse around the planet, listening to its vivid soundscape.
“Orchids to Dusk encourages [you to take your time], and in turn it causes many of life’s questions to spring to mind as you quietly traipse around the planet, listening to its vivid soundscape”
I’d say the planet you’ve ended up on is most similar to an arid desert. If you look up there’s a vast, burnt-orange sky laced with streaks of colour. Rolling hills and turqoise sands extend outwards, and in the distance you catch glimpses of life in the shadowy outlines of trees and the dark hues of their surroundings. However it’s less like a desert, and essentially more of a dreamscape. It doesn’t feel like the sun’s beating down on your shiny fishbowl helmet, and you’re not marching through a furious sandstorm. It’s quite the opposite, you’re completely uninhibited – aside from the oxygen setback – and the planet exudes serenity in its emptiness. The fact that it doesn’t overload you with detail works in its favour as it gives you time to get existential, and the landscape is only dotted with pockets of life, so you’re immediately attracted to them. I likened them to oases that gave you direction, acting as markers. So, once you’ve emerged from your hazy, thought-provoked state, you can potter over and marvel at the surprisingly lush, microcosmic worlds that come into view.
Jellyfish float in the air and green swirly laces flit around the undergrowth. Rock formations jut into the sky as you crane your head and gaze upwards at the green canopy pocked with orange bursts of sky. It’s scenes like this that make Orchids to Dusk a great game for elaborate screenshots, as your character adopts different poses when brought to a standstill. He’s brilliantly photogenic, crossing his palms to observe the magical vistas, or assuming a feminine seated position, tilting his head in such a way to draw attention to his phenomenal jawline. With just a press of the F2 button, I could snap away, lining up the perfect angle and constantly making sure that my character was modelling correctly; “Beautiful darling, work it princess.”
Make no mistake, these aren’t the only signs of life. As I was wandering around minding my own business, I remember clattering my foot into a glass container. Only it wasn’t a glass container, it was a helmet that resembled mine. Christ alive. These spooky signs teased and toyed with my curiosity, and there’s no doubt that there’s something lurking beneath the surface I can’t quite put my finger on with Orchids to Dusk. It’s the sudden realisation that the scenario you’re faced with could be a part of something much larger and beyond your control. The fact that there were others who’d crash landed and perished on this planet was intriguing. But the fact that they looked identical to me was a cause for mild concern. Again, it provoked some more mind-bending analyses. Was it a strong metaphor for the cyclical nature of the game? Or perhaps, life and death? Maybe it’s quite literally a reference to Olimar’s extended family and their bad luck?
As your oxygen meter declines to 5%, it begins to splutter and slowly grind to a halt. Your character’s peripheral vision begins to blur and he painfully places one foot in front of the other in a sustained effort to push forwards. Alas, when the meter hits 0% you perish. It’s not a Call of Duty deliberate jump backwards, or a Gears of War headpop. Rather, Orchids to Dusk aptly presents your character lying down as if entering a peaceful slumber.
Despite the fact that it’s sparse when it comes to things to do, it’s certainly not forgettable. Orchids to Dusk is shrouded in mystery, meaning that everytime I crash land on the same planet I’m constantly looking for clues and questioning its purpose. I feel like the game is trying to tell me something, and that perhaps there’s a secret ending hidden out there in its expansive world. My curiosity drives me to scour the planet for clues in the hope that it’ll lead to a mind-blowing revelatory experience. However I’m aware that these thoughts are merely hopes for a reality that may not even exist. Either way, I had a great, meditative time taking screenshots and soaking up an atmosphere that’s wonderfully detached from the hustle and bustle of life in London.
