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Fireproof Game’s The Room takes the gamer on an interactive hunt for continuous clues building a narrative that slowly but surely leads to more keys to turn and letters to read. As I played this game for longer than I intended, I found myself drawn to the unknown elements of the game. I was Nancy Drew as I entered this game world full of clues and hidden passages that I wanted to explore.
The game begins with a safe that takes a few tries to unlock. There are hidden elements such as keys, knobs, and a looking glass that allows the user to open drawers and unlock passages enabling the game to only begin. As I dove into this game, the narrative was unknown. The only hint of what would come was letters placed in hidden drawers around the safe and later boxes. According to Henry Jenkins’ “Game Design as Narrative Architecture,” games like The Room would have what you’d call an “embedded narrative.” This is when users need to continuously search for the narrative hidden within the text. Jenkins uses the example of a melodrama to depict how gamers interact with games that are structured around an embedded narrative. Viewers of melodramas have to watch and interpret the way relationships stems between characters. There are twists and turns that keep the viewer’s attention. Gamers have to search for the relationship between the objects used within the game, such as the way gamers of The Room thoroughly inspect safes, clocks, and drawers. Jenkins states, “as we read letters and diaries, snoop around in bedroom drawers and closets, in search of secrets which might shed light on the relationships between characters,” (10). The Room has hidden letters amongst the gadgets being inspected while puzzles are being solved. Each letter is part of a set. As the letters are found, the story unfolds. As the gamer plays, they are reminded that there is a message to be decoded.
While playing The Room, I often times became so captivated by the small puzzles that I forgot about the narrative until another letter was found. This game takes you out of a narrative setting and focuses on small objects and minimal clues. The space in which the game takes place seems much smaller when playing the game. Jenkins mentions the significance in space when playing games with an embedded narrative. “As we enter spaces, we may become overwhelmed with powerful feelings of loss or nostalgia, especially in those instances where the space has been transformed by narrative events,” (9). The space in The Room is a blurred line between a dark room and (in my opinion more importantly) the object on the table. The safe itself is a space, the drawers and hidden gadgets inside the locked up box become hallways with multiple doors waiting to be opened. The Room has this way on making the object so much bigger than the actually space in which the gamer is standing. The puzzles draw the gamer in closer with every clue. The sound of a lock being cracked and a key turning only fuels the desire to continue playing. The eyes follow closely and the actual space disappears. This is because of the significance of the actual contraption that is introduced on every level reached. Space or the object in this game is the main narrative that needs to be followed.
Is this small and very focused space the reason why the gamer of The Room becomes so focused on the game world that reality and time seem to be nonexistent? I believe so. As my phone buzzed with an incoming text I became almost frazzled when being forced back into reality. My mind was focused on a vault in a small room that is part of a game world I had yet to clearly understand.
The game begins with a safe that takes a few tries to unlock. There are hidden elements such as keys, knobs, and a looking glass that allows the user to open drawers and unlock passages enabling the game to only begin. As I dove into this game, the narrative was unknown. The only hint of what would come was letters placed in hidden drawers around the safe and later boxes. According to Henry Jenkins’ “Game Design as Narrative Architecture,” games like The Room would have what you’d call an “embedded narrative.” This is when users need to continuously search for the narrative hidden within the text. Jenkins uses the example of a melodrama to depict how gamers interact with games that are structured around an embedded narrative. Viewers of melodramas have to watch and interpret the way relationships stems between characters. There are twists and turns that keep the viewer’s attention. Gamers have to search for the relationship between the objects used within the game, such as the way gamers of The Room thoroughly inspect safes, clocks, and drawers. Jenkins states, “as we read letters and diaries, snoop around in bedroom drawers and closets, in search of secrets which might shed light on the relationships between characters,” (10). The Room has hidden letters amongst the gadgets being inspected while puzzles are being solved. Each letter is part of a set. As the letters are found, the story unfolds. As the gamer plays, they are reminded that there is a message to be decoded.
While playing The Room, I often times became so captivated by the small puzzles that I forgot about the narrative until another letter was found. This game takes you out of a narrative setting and focuses on small objects and minimal clues. The space in which the game takes place seems much smaller when playing the game. Jenkins mentions the significance in space when playing games with an embedded narrative. “As we enter spaces, we may become overwhelmed with powerful feelings of loss or nostalgia, especially in those instances where the space has been transformed by narrative events,” (9). The space in The Room is a blurred line between a dark room and (in my opinion more importantly) the object on the table. The safe itself is a space, the drawers and hidden gadgets inside the locked up box become hallways with multiple doors waiting to be opened. The Room has this way on making the object so much bigger than the actually space in which the gamer is standing. The puzzles draw the gamer in closer with every clue. The sound of a lock being cracked and a key turning only fuels the desire to continue playing. The eyes follow closely and the actual space disappears. This is because of the significance of the actual contraption that is introduced on every level reached. Space or the object in this game is the main narrative that needs to be followed.
Is this small and very focused space the reason why the gamer of The Room becomes so focused on the game world that reality and time seem to be nonexistent? I believe so. As my phone buzzed with an incoming text I became almost frazzled when being forced back into reality. My mind was focused on a vault in a small room that is part of a game world I had yet to clearly understand.