This isn't the first time that I have said that a game is difficult to review. Mouthwashing is a very difficult game to review. Usually, however, when I say that I'm having difficulty reviewing a game, it's because I have very mixed and conflicting feelings about that game. Or because it's borderline impossible to review the game without discussing extensive spoilers. Well, that last one actually is true in this case, but there's a more important reason why this game is difficult to review: Mouthwashing is a very difficult game to play. Not "difficult", as in "challenging", the way that Dark Souls is "difficult". Not "difficult", as in "broken", the way that a lot of awful low-budget indie games might be. Instead, Mouthwashing is thematically and emotionally difficult to play because it depicts a lot of very disturbing and grotesque subject matters that are just hard to sit through.

The low-fi, PS1-inspired graphics do not, in any way, take away from the visceral visual design of the game. In fact, the low-fi visuals, combined with a film grain filter, give the game a gritty, grimy feeling that might have been harder to accomplish with higher-fidelity graphics that might fall into the uncanny valley. For example, it might seem that the lack of facial animation is a flaw in the game that makes it difficult for some players to understand the emotional context of what the characters are saying, and to read the actual plot of the game with a cold detachment that will make the story harder to understand. And while that is true, there is also a very valid thematic reason for why the characters don't have facial animations, and for why their emotions aren't immediately obvious.

The crippled, disfigured husk of Captain Curly is disgusting to look at, and even more disgusting to listen to. The pain and humiliation that Captain Curly is subjected to are absolutely horrific to behold and contemplate. And that's just the start of the awful things that this game subjects the player to!

This a grotesque game that can be difficult to play.

But this isn't a game about body horror; it's a game about abuse, and the failure or unwillingness to take responsibility for one's actions.

But this story is delivered in a disjoint, non-linear, and sometimes abstract manner that can make it difficult to follow on a first playthrough. It might take a second playthrough to really understand what is going on, and what had happened prior to the events of the game. Thankfully, the 2-ish hour runtime means that a repeat playthrough isn't much of a burden at all. It's nowhere near as annoying and burdensome as something like having to replay Silent Hill 2 remake to try to get different endings, or to collect all the collectibles.

And this is where it starts to get difficult to talk about this game without spoilers. Honestly, if low-fi, psychological horror walking sims about abuse aren't your jam, then you won't play this, and probably won't care about spoilers. Otherwise, if you're into this kind of thing, then you probably know who you are. If you haven't already played the game, and you might be interested, then you should stop reading and play it. It gets my fullest recommendation!

It is impossible to talk about this game's merits without major spoilers...

Continuing to go through my back-log of shorter games that I've bought in bulk on sales, I spent a couple nights going through an indie game called Exo One. Exo One is a sci-fi ... um ... adventure game? Puzzle game? Platformer? Infinite runner? I'm really not sure how to classify this game ludically. Exo One feels like somebody thought "let's adapt the last 10 minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey into a game" So it's part 2001, with a little bit of Contact thrown in for good measure, and plays similarly to Journey (but without any of the multiplayer aspects that made Journey such a beloved insta-classic). Basically, it's a game about going somewhere, but without really knowing where that "somewhere" is supposed to be. As such, it's the journey that matters; not the destination.

The basic plot, as I understood it (because it's a bit trippy and difficult to follow), is that an alien civilization transmitted data to Earth containing plans on how to build an exotic interstellar space craft (hence, the Contact reference). When a crew of astronauts travel to Jupiter to test the spacecraft, there is some kind of accident or unexplained phenomena that causes one of the astronauts to become lost in space. We play as that astronaut trying to return home -- well, actually, it's a little bit more complicated than that, but what's actually happening falls into spoiler territory, so I'll just leave it at that for now.

The spacecraft itself is a metallic, shapeshifting ball that can transform into a discus-shaped glider. It is equipped with a "gravity drive" that allows it to temporarily multiply the the force of gravity that is applied to it. As such, the core gameplay loop consists of rolling this ball across alien landscapes, using the gravity drive to pick up speed whenever you are falling or rolling downhill, and then jumping and transforming into the discus glider in order to reach higher elevation or travel long distances.

What if the climax of 2001: A Space Odyssey were a game?

Yeah, it's a weird one...

As a publicly-acknowledged atheist who often has to defend my atheism against friends, colleagues, family, and the occasional real-life troll lurking around a natural history museum (seriously, that actually happened to me when I visited the Smithsonian in real life), I have a casual interest in theology, religious history, and apologetics. I listen to lectures on the historicity of Jesus, and debates about the origin of the universe or life, and so on. I'm thoroughly inoculated against the standard apologetics of the Kalam Cosmological Argument, watchmaker, absolute morality, and so forth. I appreciate when media is willing to engage with theological debate honestly and directly, instead of relying on the typical tropes of the incredulous skeptic (who is also often mopey, depressive, and cynical) that we see so often in TV and movies.

I don't remember exactly where I heard about Indika, but as soon as I did, I added it to my PSN wishlist and bought it when it went on sale. The elevator pitch of a game about a nun who thinks she's possessed by Satan seemed immediately interesting and entertaining. The fact that the game is actually very thoughtful and intelligent with its religious themes (rather than simply being a crass joke) only made it more appealing.

It's unclear to me if some voice-overs are the voices in Indika's head, or just an external narrator.
It often points out contradictions and hypocrisies of religious beliefs and activities, such as the futility of her labors.

Naughty nun and pious criminal

Indika is a thoroughly weird game. I would not be surprised if it ends up being the weirdest game that I play all year. It's a strange mix of walking sim, puzzle-platformer, and retro arcade. It's part Hellblade, part Edith Finch, maybe even part Sonic the Hedgehog, and very Russian.

Put simply, the protagonist, Indika, is a woman who was sent to a convent to become a nun, against her will, because of some perceived sin. She doesn't want to be there, but she's a genuinely nice and obedient person who fulfills her duties to the best of her abilities. Unfortunately for her, the "best of her abilities" isn't good enough. You see, she hears voices in her head, and sees visions of demons, that make her do and say things that are not quite appropriate, and which have earned her the severe disapproval of the other nuns.

One day, one of the nuns at the convent sends her out on an errand to deliver a letter to a monastery in a neighboring town. On the way, she encounters an escaped convict, named Ilya, who believes that God talks to him, and that he is kept alive by an explicit miracle from God. He has a gangrenous arm, but has survived with it for weeks without amputation, and without succumbing to sepsis. The 2 are an unlikely and ironic pair, a nun who thinks she is possessed by Satan, and a convict who thinks he is one of God's chosen people. They decide to accompany each other on a quest to a cathedral, where they hope a holy artifact can bless them both with a miracle -- to heal Ilya's arm, and to exorcise Indika's demonic possession.

Indika questions why God would make people broken, and give them free will, only to demand piety and obedience.

The concept is darkly humorous, and the game plays this humor up throughout. But it also uses the dichotomy of the 2 characters (and their specific predicaments) to explore the ideas of piety, morality, sin, free will, and the existence of a soul. And it does so earnestly and honestly, despite the wacky, whimsical nature of the circumstances and the actual game. The questions that the game poses could potentially have been pulled straight out of any apologetics book, or from an episode of The Atheist Experience.

Because Indika has a habit of making frequent small mistakes, which she often attributes to "sin", she is particularly interested in the idea of the moral equivalence of different sins. Specifically, can an accumulation of little sins add up to the equivalent of a larger, mortal sin like murder? And if so, how many such minor sins would one have to commit to damn themself to hell, the same as a murderer? Since Ilya sees himself as destined by God for a greater purpose, he is particularly interested in the ideas of pre-destination and free will. The 2 characters go back and forth about these topics (and others) several times throughout their journey together.