A View Of The “Lake”.

I find that as I get older my gaming preferences have become more diverse. Now I’d like to believe that this is a result of natural maturity. The rigours of ageing imparting it’s inert wisdom upon my world weary soul. But honestly, I think my flourishing proclivities for sophisticated experiences is a direct result of becoming more conscious of my own dwindling mortality. Not that I’m planning on shuffling awkwardly from this mortal coil just yet, but I find that age, as well as the responsibility of being a parent, does have a profound impact on how you perceive life as it was, as it is and the ever shortening journey towards its inevitable end. Games that invoke the banality of everyday life, with enough compelling introspective dramatisation to keep you from falling into narcolepsy seem to hold this rousing appeal that a more dynamic game would have when I was younger.

“Lake” certainly conforms to these contemplative persuasions. With self reflecting endeavours that delve into the intricacies of rekindling relationships from your youth. You play as Meredith, a writer who has returned to her fictional hometown of Providence Oaks to assume the role of the town’s mail carrier in her father’s absence. A rather contrived incentive to precipitate such a quaint concept, but one that does strangely work. “Lake’s” gameplay largely hinges on delivering packages to the local denizens, whilst reconciling the mistakes of your past and contemplating your future with interspersed dialogue. It’s these humble stories of self rediscovery that has captivated my attention most, over the irksome bluster of AAA titles that are constantly baying for attention of its fickle consumers or exploiting its popularity with loot boxes.

You’d think a game that perpetuates the mundane life of a delivery carrier, whose life briefly interjects with those in the local community, socialising as well as providing conversational support to these individuals you meet, would be a fundamental moral quandary for an introvert that wouldn’t engage with his own mother for more than a minute if I didn’t have to. But there is something so soothing about living vicariously through the perspective of someone socially confident. Taking inventory of their life to better understand themselves, whilst carefully considering their future. It also helps that the relationships Meridith establishes with the gregarious inhabitants develop in a very organic fashion, despite the limited autonomy of dialogue options, that really only equates to responses that are either verbose or glib variations of Yes/No. Though the game’s divergent endings do give your decisions some limited autonomy.

“Lake” isn’t perfect. The movement is awkward. The graphics are low rendered and at times featureless. The streets and residences are often as disserted as a Toys R Us in Chernobyl. Dialogue can sometimes feel stilted and the lip syncing is about as accurate as a dubbed Japanese movie. Lake can feel repetitive, but it’s that repetition that gives the game real authenticity. But for all Lake’s faults, it’s the game’s earnest cathartic that makes it so compelling. Lake may not be the most exciting, nor the best presented, but what it lacks in superficial quality, it more than makes up for by providing a unique comfort. And certainly an experience to really wind down too.