ABZÛ

ABZÛ proudly advertises itself as being from the art director of Flower and Journey, which makes a lot of sense, because in simplest terms, it’s Flower with fish instead of plants. Fittingly, it’s a little deeper; we’ve graduated from “pretty nature vs. ugly industrialization” to “realistic nature including predator-prey relationships vs. industrialization that can be harmful but isn’t inherently so.” It still boils down to simplistic environmentalism, but I appreciate that it seems to champion sustainability over a complete rejection of modernity. And of course, the nature is still very, very pretty. I actually feel that the game shows its hand a little too early in that regard. Its first half is overflowing with extravagant visuals and music, which diminishes the sense of revitalization that the plot progression is supposed to provide. It also gives the impression that 80% of the ocean will be just fine without your intervention, which is presumably not the intended message.

The overblown introduction has gameplay ramifications, too. I don’t know about other people, but I find the joy in exploration gameplay to be in finding all of the setting’s little undiscovered nooks – a pleasure that’s lost when every one of them already contains a hundred very animated fish. Once the game slows down and lets its atmosphere sink in, it finally begins to shine. The details of the music and artfully rendered environments become perceptible. The graceful movement of the protagonist is paced well enough to allow you to take everything in without lingering too long in each area. Even the game’s regular flirtation with traditional gameplay mechanics stops being a nuisance once you’re fully immersed in the oceanic odyssey. Admittedly, this might just be because ABZÛ eventually leans into thalassophobia (which is a surefire way to get my attention), but whatever the cause, the game definitely ends more strongly than it begins.