For my love of
No Man's Sky I would, in no uncertain terms, be criticized, humiliated, and ultimately ostracized by that nebulous and nefarious entity of 'Gamer Culture', were I to encroach upon its dark boundary. This is because I do not merely enjoy this game, but have enjoyed it since its release—and as a vicious stab to my
reviewer objectivity, possibly even before.
This is a game whose base premise found its way to that effervescent glade of pure nerdery in my heart:
explore an endless universe while cataloging your experience. The
Star Trek fan within me tittered with joy; the
writer in me came short of breath. And it is in that sole practice of the game—a feature that has always been there—that I found my enjoyment. Jumping into a ship, sailing into the stars, and finding new worlds that were mine alone... Such was brain candy for my type. No, brain
vitamins; it stoked my imagination in the way a book would, or even a tantalizing 1950's sci-book
cover. Though the game itself did not present me with stories, my brain ran over with possibilities, inspiring my own work. Not many games can do that to me.
The stories the game
does provide are not to be ignored. It's existential, challenging, appropriately ambiguous. You're a 'Traveler', and you are either following the Path of [the vague, mysterious force called] the Atlas, or you're not. As of the
Pathfinder update (I think), there was a subplot where you try to find other 'Travelers' and other sole entities who know what
this is all about. The reveal (
that this is all a simulation being run by a computer, which honestly explains a lot of the 'unrealistic' facets of the game's space travel) is one that is not a stranger to science-fiction, but the approach taken by the game's narrative is an intriguing, thought-provoking, or even
belief-invoking one. Not since
BioShock has a video game reached out and prodded my paradigm like a fingertip on the surface of a still pond.
Granted, this rattle is not dissimilar from those achieved by teenagers smoking
the weed while staring at the stars and going, 'Like, dude, could you imagine if...?', but it's still an interesting approach. And the writing that goes along with it is engaging, emotional, highly creative.
Where the game slips a whole tone from perfection is, yes, the repetitive nature of the actual tasks. You need x-amount of this, plus x-amount of that, to make y-amount of this, which you will then combine with y-amount of that, which you will then combine into z-amount of this, and z-amount of that, and so on, until you can buy The Thing You Want but Might Not Need Exactly. You need an element to keep your life support on; you need another element to fuel your ship; you need yet another element to fuel your ship in a way that makes it go faster; you need
yet entirely another element to fuel your ship in a way that makes it go All the Way Fast.
This, for someone looking for an 'exciting' gaming experience, is tedium incarnate.
There's a caveat for it though, and the meat of this caveat is what, in turn, kinda blows my mind about
No Man's Sky and any other game like it. In this modern era where even my favorite games are action-packed and colorful and mark off all the items that make it a 'good game',
No Man's Sky is a zoom-out from this habit. I'm made to ask, 'Why does a game
have to be an exhilarating thrill-ride? Why can't a game be a simple set of tasks in an aesthetically pleasing environment? Why can't a game be
relaxing? Why can't a game be something you do to occupy your brain while you listen to a podcast or audiobook?' (The latter of which I've done many times, and it's perfect for it.)
Is
No Man's Sky the first and only game to be like this? I know that answer to be
no. Did it truly break any ground? Maybe on a technical scale.
But is it still
good?
I think so. Even though I've reached the center of the galaxy (
and come out the other side to a galaxy of my making), I can see myself returning periodically to see what new things I can find. To have a stress-free time, to zone out, to get my sci-fi brain going. You know, to scratch that itch of a fantastical voyage through the endless stars searching for a meaning that is, at the end of it, something only I can create.
On a scale of survival games (Ark being 1 and Subnautica and Valheim being 10) it places somewhat around 7.