When I say that I don’t want games to be more like movies, I’m just talking about graphics. The peepee measuring contest that is triple-A development prides itself on photorealism above all else, which in my eyes is a detriment to the games themselves. God of War (2018) may be a looker, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling like the It’s A Small World ride at Disneyland because you just button mash combat controls and have no other interactivity with the world around you.
Apartment Story is Games As Cinema done right. It blends a tense 90-minute narrative about three people in an apartment with a gun with the lifestyle gameplay of The Sims. Add in PS2-style graphics and dialogue ripped straight from silent movies and you’ve got a stylish story that expertly blends the worlds of cinema and gaming.
I’ve got to start with the tutorial. Despite the fact that I Am Your Beast retains the title for the best tutorial I’ve ever played (yes, that includes Titanfall 2’s Gauntlet), Apartment Story merges its mechanical lessons with a film-esque credits sequence. Names of those who worked on the game adorn the walls of a gleaming red corridor. The lists stare at you as you learn how to make a bowl of cereal and manage your health bars. And, when you’re done, the game starts proper.
Apartment Story gives you very little direction. You understand that you need to stay on top of those five aforementioned health bars – Hunger, Sleep, Mind, Toilet, and Hygiene – and that’s that. I immediately went for a piss, washed my hands, and made an attempt at an omelette. I ate what looked like grey sludge as the rain slammed the window next to me. The doorbell rang.
I tried to answer the door, but I’d forgotten to get dressed. My guest grew more impatient as I put on my clothes, but I greeted her before too long. Meet Diane, your ex-roommate and almost-lover. Here’s where things start being less The Sims and become more Jordan Peele movie.
This is a game to be played in one sitting, like you watch a film.
Diane’s caught up in some serious stuff. She crowbars a gun from the floorboards of her old room. The pair of you smoke weed and have sex. It feels good. Her stalker trashes your apartment and headbutts you. It feels bad. He promises he’ll be back for more if you see her again. You tidy. You sleep. You cook. You eat. You wake up again. Diane’s back. You let her in.
Or maybe none of that happens. While the events of Apartment Story are scripted, you have complete agency. You can ignore Diane’s requests for weed and instead make a nice bowl of mushroom pasta, stirring the pot as she insists on getting high. In fact, you don’t even have to open the door to her in the first place. You can just go about your daily routines as a skint, unemployed bloke until the story reaches its conclusion without your involvement. What happens if Chekhov’s Gun is never found?
Similarly, you can screw up. You can play for 85 minutes of its 90-120 minute runtime and just die. Not from needing the toilet too much or something like The Sims (although that will affect your judgement of situations), but from the consequences of your actions.
Apartment Story is a playable movie in the sense that you have full agency over Arthur. It’s cinematic despite the fact that you’re calling the shots. The dialogue isn’t voice acted, it interrupts conversations like it’s desperate to be heard, a black screen with white text tearing up any sense immersion like a silent movie of old.
I’ll admit I was frustrated that I played for 85 minutes and just died. But, like, dying would be frustrating. In a game that treats such a fraught situation with such realism – you might really really need to pee while being held hostage – it feels like a fitting ending, even if you have to play through it all again and keep hold of that gun to see a different ending. That’s gaming, baby!
One genuine annoyance, however, was in an instance where I decided to light one up while waiting for Diane’s stalker to return. Arthur grabbed his devil’s lettuce and the gun just disappeared. When faced with the glint of a knife, I had no recourse, no bargaining chip, no weapon. Instead of bringing a knife to a gunfight, I’d brought a joint and a full bladder. I died again.
This instance aside, there are no serious bugs in Apartment Story. I wouldn’t recommend playing if your idea of cinematic games is a highly polished triple-A experience. But if you don’t mind a bit of jank, if you don’t care about bowls clipping through each other in the sink as you wash the dishes, then Apartment Story will spin you a fraught tale in which there’s as much tension in getting a shower as there is with your home invader.
Pros
- Engaging story with complete agency
- Inventive use of Sims-like mechanics in a new genre
- Great characters writing
Cons
- Bugs can cause frustration
- Anticlimactic endings may be annoying