My favorite games are not the ones that I can’t put down.
The games that draw me into fixation, that keep me sat in front of them for hours or afternoons on end, are generally not the ones that I count among the my personal pantheon of all-time favorites. I wrote last year about Satisfactory and the particular sharpness of the hooks it dug into me, and just last month I wrote about how Donkey Kong Bananza felt like it was dragging me along through its colorful and overstuffed stages. If I can’t put a game down, it’s usually for reasons unrelated to pure delight.
No, my favorite games are most often ones that I find myself savoring. They’re ones I almost don’t want to play, don’t want to continue for too long, don’t want to let go of even though I see their conclusions approaching.
In November of 2017, I attended Day of the Devs in San Francisco, a delightful little games expo that showcased a smattering of upcoming indie offerings and featured an equally delightful live set from Darren Korb and Ashley Barrett of Supergiant Games, playing music from Bastion, Transistor, and Pyre (this was before the release of indie juggernaut Hades).
They stayed along to sell and sign copies of the incredible Pyre soundtrack, and when I briefly spoke to them, I found myself awkwardly admitting that in the 5ish months since Pyre had released, despite diving into it immediately, I had only just finished working through the game’s story days prior (I can't imagine they really cared how long it took me).
Everyone who knows me well is sick of hearing about it, but to this day Pyre sits among my favorite games I’ve ever played. I didn’t want it to end, especially given Supergiant’s track record for emotionally compelling endings, and that's not an experience that I'm prone to in the slightest. I’m not usually that kind of person! I love finishing things and moving onto the many many others that I’m interested in. I crave variety and breadth, and when I linger it’s almost exclusively despite myself.
So, what am I trying to say here? Well, I’ve had several folks ask me to share my thoughts on Silksong with them as I work my way through it. As a hobbyist critic, it’s deeply heartwarming to see people being preemptively interested in my impressions just because they know what I like and what I’m excited about. It’s rare that I really get to feel like an authoritative analytical voice, if only from the perspective of a genre and series enthusiast.
And here’s the thing: about a week and a half beyond launch, I’m barely 8 hours into Silksong; way less than I might have been if I’d gotten truly absorbed into it. That doesn’t mean I’m not having a good time; in fact, it means that I’m having a great time.
I do have some impressions, for those who have asked. I’m really enthralled by the ways that Hornet’s movement and attacks are in conversation with the original game while still branching out, elaborating her movement to feel just as snappy but also a little more acrobatic and expressive. She has a little ledge get-up that makes it easier to clear gaps, and she can cancel it into a full-height jump for speedy ascents, which is a small but greatly-felt change.
The first new movement ability I picked up was multifaceted, interacting in distinct ways with grounded movement, aerial movement, jumping, and attacking. In turn, the subsequent movement abilities I’ve found have been much simpler, giving me space to work them into an already-intricate movement kit without being overwhelmed. I think I'm mostly on the critical path, and that this pacing is intentional; for me, it's worked quite well.
Silksong's earliest moments exude confidence and clarity of vision; where the original Hollow Knight sent you through an hour and a half of dreary stone tunnels before opening into the bubbling harps and bright foliage of Greenpath (the second major area), Silksong’s opening hours begin with color and light, and they move much faster. They draw the player through several distinct areas with strong visual identities and a slew of unique characters to meet, all with Team Cherry’s signature stellar character design. There's a lot of space provided to establish core ideas, and the developers save the first real difficulty barriers till a bit later on, giving players more time to get familiar with the movement and explore the world around them.
Unlike the Knight of the previous game, Hornet is not a silent protagonist. She banters back and forth with the bugfolk of Pharloom as she investigates the forces that imprisoned her and brought her here. She’s written to be a bit stoic and flat (she reminds me of the one player in the D&D party who stops goofing off and tries to be well-behaved in character, offering polite and over-formal greetings, explaining her goals directly, and asking narrative-furthering questions). But despite the stiffness of her writing, the choice to make her a dialogic agent and an active participant, especially in a story that begins with her capture, is ultimately a sound one. It produces more direct storytelling, but it doesn’t leave behind the sense of mystery and decay that characterized Hollow Knight (and which clearly draws inspiration from Dark Souls before it). Conversely, it seems to be gesturing towards resilience, reclamation, and survival and community amid the ruins, something that was largely absent from the dreariness of the previous game.
I think that’s all I’m ready to talk about. I’m excited to circle back when I finish the game some weeks from now and have a bit more to say. For now, I’m taking my time.
As a coda to these thoughts, I want to point out some interesting discussion about Silksong’s release and Team Cherry’s decision not to provide a pre-release review period for critics. The game hit storefronts for everyone at the same time, assuming you could get your purchase to go through. I highly recommend that folks read Grace Benfell’s thoughtful lamentation on Endless Mode about the implications of this choice, as well as Kaile Hultner’s equally thoughtful response. Both pieces articulate a lot of insightful points and both are worth the read.
The latter of these articles positions folks like myself as parts of a loose collection of disparate, independent critics who don’t have to play by the rules of publishers and media outlets. I’m a little conflicted about it, because it’s a luxury that I have time to do this at all, but I also read it as a provocation to leverage my position as a separately-financially-stable hobbyist towards striving to write thoughtful and incisive analysis, of a kind that could not flourish under the pressures of marketing and enthusiast press. As I play games at my own pace, I hope to keep in mind the latitude this affords me and use it to make my work sharper, distinctive, more impactful.