Things I Played: Donut County

In gaming circles there often emerges a furious debate about what games should be about. 

A certain party says gameplay. The other, equally vocal, party offers a counterpoint—story. This debate often reaches boiling point, to the extent where it seems like one group is about to enact a bloody revenge on the other. Humour tends to be cast aside, which is probably why neither group says games should be about comedy...

Truth be told, comedy games are a rarity. Good humour is after all, subjective. Off the time of my head I can name only a few of them—Jazzpunk, Dr Langeskov, The Stanley Parable and maybe Project Rub. Step aside though because there's a new entrant into the ring... Donut County, a whimsical comedy-cum-novelty game that's almost worth the £11 entrance fee I paid to play it.

Donut County is a puzzle game from one-man-team, LA based gamemaker Ben Esposito. It's described as a physics-based-puzzler but that doesn't do it justice. The gameplay only consists of moving a cursor about the screen to drop objects into a 'donut-shaped' hole. 

As you drop smaller objects, the hole enlarges so that you're able to drop bigger objects (think brick to car). It's trivial but the real quality of the game is the humour—an eccentric, joke-laden, easy-going style, featuring a cast of silly anthropomorphic animals, including a salty raccoon called 'Trash King'.

Like all comedy, how much you'll enjoy Donut County relies on how funny you find it. I personally love absurdist humour so got a lot of mileage from it. It has a brilliant riff on Wikipedia called Trashpedia which offers a silly description of each object you drop. I chortled heartily a few times, like when it described snakes as 'moving spaghetti'. 

I do wish the gameplay was more challenging, but another part of me realises that it works excellently with the game's simple intentions.

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Things I Watched: Asako I and II

Recently I’ve noticed a bit of a strange tension creeping into certain films I watch. It’s hard to describe but revolves around not knowing whether a character is being truthful or not. It makes me feel uncomfortable; a little bit anxious. It crept up again in Asako I and II, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Asuko I and II is the latest film from Japanese director Ryusuke Hamaguchi – best known in the West for his excellent four-hour film Happy Hour. That film was followed the lives of four female characters and similarly Asuko I & II bases itself on the life of a woman – the main character Asuko. 

In the beginning she falls madly, deeply, truly in love with a guy called Baku. They eventually split but her feelings remain steadfast years later. This causes consternation when she gets into a relationship with Ryohei – an Osakan businessman who looks exactly like Baku, minus the long hair.

I have a feeling the reason the film made me feel uncomfortable is because it expresses the displeasing truth that people are haunted by past trauma. this manifests into the otherwise reticent Asako being unable to swallow her feelings for the elusive Baku – who disappeared one day in her youth. 

It deeply confuses Asako prompting actions that are distinctly unlike her (i.e. being assertive and spontaneous). It reveals the masks that we wear aren’t always able to quell the embers of memory that live inside a person’s heart, especially when it comes to former relationships.

It seems to me that Hamaguchi has a bone to pick with such things given that the final scene features a momentously philosophical analogy that people are like rivers: disgusting yet beautiful. I like that idea very much.

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