I don't have much interest in the gameplay. While the emotion rock-paper-scissors mechanic is pretty creative, it's just the same old turn-based combat I've heard of. I regard the overall gameplay as rather grating, especially for those who wish to get all of the achievements.
Remember how I said the game has coming-of-age elements to it? OMORI's heartwarming aspects comprise its biggest strength as a story. The game is targeted at people looking to explore surreal, strange landscapes, as well as the depths of a damaged mind or two, so it's often a surprise that it teaches people's ability to persist in the face of suffering. However, the game's outward cuteness garnered quite the periphery demographic.
While the game gives a Content Warning about mental illness and suicide, it conceals a truth I made the mistake of suppressing: some things are made irreversibly lost, lives made directly worse, calming mechanisms rendered useless — in ways meant to be as tearjerking as possible — a barely-unrealistic cacophony of foreshadowing and symbolic connections. Thus, the wholesome and mundane elements of OMORI double as its gravest weakness. Hearing praise of it as a tragedy makes me feel so wronged and tense that I had to remove the game from my Steam library for good.
One last thing I need to note: putting full responsibility on someone for how well/poorly they "move on" from their mental illness is very, very gross. Citing The Art of Review's words on YIIK: "If someone is grieving, what they should do is reach out. If they aren't, reach out to them. ... People don't choose to suffer." While I'm glad the game communicates the importance of reaching out to others, the crux of how the Multiple Endings are branched into doesn't help as much. While I know that heavy explorations of these topics can be therapeutic to some, the last thing I want is for more real people to die thinking that the effects of their grief reduce their worth as human beings.
VideoGame Does not work as a non-horror story
For a long time, I tried to think of OMORI as a Realistic Fiction Coming of Age Story with Surrealism and Psychological Horror elements — under the guise of a surreal psychological horror adventure RPG.
I don't have much interest in the gameplay. While the emotion rock-paper-scissors mechanic is pretty creative, it's just the same old turn-based combat I've heard of. I regard the overall gameplay as rather grating, especially for those who wish to get all of the achievements.
Remember how I said the game has coming-of-age elements to it? OMORI's heartwarming aspects comprise its biggest strength as a story. The game is targeted at people looking to explore surreal, strange landscapes, as well as the depths of a damaged mind or two, so it's often a surprise that it teaches people's ability to persist in the face of suffering. However, the game's outward cuteness garnered quite the periphery demographic.
While the game gives a Content Warning about mental illness and suicide, it conceals a truth I made the mistake of suppressing: some things are made irreversibly lost, lives made directly worse, calming mechanisms rendered useless — in ways meant to be as tearjerking as possible — a barely-unrealistic cacophony of foreshadowing and symbolic connections. Thus, the wholesome and mundane elements of OMORI double as its gravest weakness. Hearing praise of it as a tragedy makes me feel so wronged and tense that I had to remove the game from my Steam library for good.
One last thing I need to note: putting full responsibility on someone for how well/poorly they "move on" from their mental illness is very, very gross. Citing The Art of Review's words on YIIK: "If someone is grieving, what they should do is reach out. If they aren't, reach out to them. ... People don't choose to suffer." While I'm glad the game communicates the importance of reaching out to others, the crux of how the Multiple Endings are branched into doesn't help as much. While I know that heavy explorations of these topics can be therapeutic to some, the last thing I want is for more real people to die thinking that the effects of their grief reduce their worth as human beings.