This Ain't No Game, But It Sure Is Great

Ceremony of Innocence provides an incredibly unique and rewarding experience, but it struggles to meet expectations of what constitutes a game. Based on the Griffin and Sabine trilogy by Nick Bantock, Ceremony takes you through the story of Griffin, a neurotic young English artist, and his mysterious South Sea Island muse Sabine, of whom he becomes aware at the very beginning. In the process, it challenges your understanding of interactivity and storytelling. But is it a game?

Only one part of Ceremony works like a game: the puzzles. They are not conventional puzzles, however, as each serves as a visual metaphor, relevant in some way to the story, which is surreal both in appearance and solution. In some instances the mouse becomes more than a mere interface between user and puzzle. It is eaten, washed away, or used to break a fish bowl, which leads to a horrifying scream and the shattering of glass -- an event so impressive it leaves you feeling a tinge of guilt. The puzzles are so cleverly designed that you will question all that you take for granted in interface design, meanwhile appreciating the lighter touch on what becomes a dark tale.

Ceremony is perhaps more accurately described as a piece of interactive multimedia, with exceptional audio production and animation linking the original work with a less-tangible medium. Its strengths lie in deep characterisation, beautiful artwork, and subtlety. Nearly everything is left open to interpretation, from the surreal postcards and puzzle design to the odd connection between the characters, and even the individual motivations that drive them through the plot.

The story is told through a series of postcards and letters, which are presented through voice-over and a variety of audio-visual techniques. Sounds mesh with words, which themselves may flash across the screen or blur into the background, creating a haunting, ghostly effect that stays with you long after you stop playing. The visual and the verbal engage in a captivating dance of spoken word, ambient sound, and poetic imagery. Every moment is entrancing. But -- for the most part, at least -- it all plays out before you; there is no way to change the fate of Griffin or Sabine, or to impact on either character’s story in any way.

And somehow that adds to the experience. In an early letter Sabine tells of an image of a half-drawn flower that unexpectedly appears in her head. Entranced, she watches it grow and change, lines appearing and disappearing, until a noise from outside breaks her concentration and the image evaporates. But enough of a trace remains to leave her desperate for more. Ceremony of Innocence is much the same. It gives you a window into the deepest, most personal secrets and feelings of these two characters through their “extraordinary correspondence” and heartfelt letters and illustrations. Your lack of agency only serves to make you closer to the characters who themselves are tugged along by some mysterious external force. You can’t change the story, but neither can they.

If you're cool with the idea of being led on a journey with great depth but almost no interaction, add one star to my score. If you like your games to be games and your books to be books, take off one star. Ceremony of Innocence offers a great experience, but it's tough to recommend without making absolutely clear that it is basically a book -- only better.