Space seems to be the best
setting to convey isolation. The Metroid series
does it excellently, and so does The
Swapper. There's more in common between these two games than their tone: The Swapper is even structured like a Metroid game. Yet somehow, playing The Swapper feels modern and fresh as
much as it feels familiar and nostalgic.
I enter the game only to be jettisoned
from a space station. Why? I'm not too sure. Upon exploring the surface of the
foreign planet on which I landed, I discover the eponymous Swapper. This device
let me create clones of myself that are synchronized with my movements. Soon
thereafter, I find an augment for the device which allowed me to switch between
the clones. These are the primary mechanics of the game.
In order to access new areas,
I must collect orbs that were hidden away on the planet and back on the space
station. The game uses such an old style of game progression, but the novelty
of the game mechanics makes each puzzle feel challenging and rewarding. It's a
nod to the olden days of gaming without using clichéd pixel art or 8-bit music.
I find out that the space
station was on a mining expedition to this alien planet. Large rock samples can
be found throughout the station, and when I pass in front of one, the screen blurs
and text appears. Are these rocks communicating with me?
Most rooms hold a clever
puzzle which must be solved in order to obtain orbs. The puzzles are superbly
designed around the Swapper device and are unlike any other I've yet
encountered. I haven't experienced puzzles this fun since Portal 2.
After making progress through
in the space station, I discover that these ancient rocks are believed to be
intelligent beings. They were being mined in order to be studied further until
something went wrong. A doctor who has been studying them believes that they contain
consciousness, but lack any perception of the physical world. They contain
souls, if you will.
The Swapper device is thought
to be swapping the soul of the user to the target's body (in the player's case,
his or her clones). Is the soul, or that inexplicable thing that makes us
conscious, truly not of the physical world?
Have I, the gamer, temporarily
transfer myself into this game world, as if I had used the Swapper device? While
I play, I inhabit the empty shell of the protagonist, deciding his or her
movements and actions. Does part of my soul live in this character while I play? While
immersed, is my consciousness at least partly transferred into the game world? The
player-avatar relationship is an interesting one, and The Swapper led me to further question this unique part of
videogames.
I'll leave you with this
quote from Austin Grossman's book You:
"But in the
middle of all this, there's you, a person playing a video game. For fun, for a
challenge, for reasons hard to understand... Your character is always going to
be you; you can never ever quite erase that sliver of you-awareness. In the
whole mechanized game world, you are a unique object, like a moving hole that's
full of emotion and agency and experience and memory unlike anything else in
this made-up universe."