SPOILER-FREE REVIEW
An ambitious but imperfect sequel, Sometimes Always Monsters is defined – for better or for worse – by the clash between its big ideas and thought-provoking narrative, and the flaws in its storytelling and gameplay.
It’s been a long time since I’ve played a game and come out uncertain about how I feel about it. More often than not, games and movies fall into three broad categories: the good, the bad and the mediocre. But despite the rating I’ve settled on, Sometimes Always Monsters isn’t your typical average game. It’s a game of impressive ambition: equal parts brilliant and frustrating, and one that doesn’t necessarily always do justice to a thought-provoking premise that raises genuinely interesting questions.
Let me just preface the rest of this review by saying that I started playing Sometimes Always Monsters close to launch, but stopped shortly after. I’d imported a save from the previous game Always Sometimes Monsters to carry forward, and in earlier builds, this game contradicted it, producing a storyline that was both confusing and tonally dissonant. Unsure if this was intended or just an error, I put my playthrough on hold while the game’s developers at Vagabond Dog put out patches. The wait has been well worth it. The continuity is now crystal-clear, but more than that, it now serves as a proper continuation of that story. There are far too many poorly considered sequels, but this game, with its potent mix of new ideas, story threads and ambition, is not one of them.
Someone continued this story out of passion. It offers a thought-provoking narrative of impressive scale and scope, not just by the standards of indie games, but for video games in general. In Always Sometimes Monsters, my character, a writer, had won back their ex and published a hit novel, leaving their former best friend Sam hurting and out for revenge. Sometimes Always Monsters picks up after the sales of the book stalled, with my main character setting out on a book tour with four other authors to promote an upcoming sequel, while Sam plotted her return. In video games, perfect endings are frequently attainable and victory is often final, encouraging the hubris that this game then breaks. It twists the supposedly perfect ending of its predecessor, forcing my character to face the consequences of what they – and by extension I – had done to “beat” the first game.
It’s a story about us – flawed, selfish human beings who act in remarkably self-destructive ways. In that sense, it’s a game about life, and it had me questioning what my relationship with my chosen characters actually was, and whether I, as the person in charge of this narrative, had some responsibility towards them. It’s a challenge to preconceptions. I wasn’t wholly comfortable, nor could I justify everything my character did: ideas video games rarely, if ever, cover. On top of that, it offers musings on the life of an artist: about integrity and self-doubt and right and wrong, and serving a reminder that success isn’t final. This isn’t a game you can win in the traditional sense.
To have your preconceptions challenged is always a good thing, but the story isn’t without its problems. Without resorting to spoilers, there’s a particular narrative subplot where you investigate a journalist publishing claims that your character is a fraud and plagiarist. I followed this plotline, out of the implication that I would find whatever information was uncovered useful in the endgame, but also out of genuine curiosity, only to reach a point where I couldn’t progress any further. Whether I missed something or the whole subplot had only been introduced to provide extra context to the game’s overarching story was unclear to me. That abrupt ending didn’t provide resolution, and it stopped the main story from cohering.
The subplot is emblematic of a game that offers lots of player freedom without necessarily providing enough direction and focus. The guard rails are lowered and your hand will not be held as you search for the excellent optional side content and filler. The book tour has you visiting several cities across the country, and each has fun filler content to be experienced, whether it’s getting your book off the ban list by fighting a prejudiced head librarian or visiting a suspiciously tacky museum dedicated to aliens. As good as it is however, the lack of direction sometimes undercuts it. Always Sometimes Monsters benefited from having a clear central goal: cross the country to get to your ex before their wedding, and keep writing pages for your novel. There isn’t really anything comparable here. You set aside time to write pages for your sequel, but at no point does the game tell you how much is enough. There are also other Sims-style systems for hunger, hygiene and fitness but again they don’t seem to serve much of a purpose beyond casual roleplaying for realism. That’s not a problem in itself, but given that addressing those needs can cause the game’s day-night cycle to advance itself, it becomes one. My experience was undercut by the worry that going to do my character’s laundry would advance time forward and that I’d miss out on content.
That’s not ideal. I didn’t want to miss out on any of the side content, because what I found, I genuinely enjoyed. Side characters from the previous game might make cameo appearances, while the new side characters are an interesting bunch to be with. At the start of the game, you can choose four authors to come with you on the book tour, and each has their own special encounter that you can experience; whether it’s sleeping overnight in a haunted house or helping someone bag meals for the homeless. These encounters represent the game at its best: fleshing these characters out and adding vital replay value by encouraging you to play again with different companions. There are also great vignettes as the bus travels between cities featuring your chosen companions interacting with one another, fleshing them out even further. In comparison, the main character feels almost devoid of personality due to the lack of dialogue, and that’s a real shame. There are dialogue options but they feel generic, especially given that some of Always Sometimes Monsters’ wit, humour and charm came from seeing the player character actually responding with words of their own.
However, other things have changed for the better since the first game. The updated graphics and art style look great, and they’re just about the only thing I can praise unreservedly. Each city has its own unique aesthetic and personality, and the new character models show an impressive uptick in complexity and detail, especially for a small team of indie devs working on an aging engine. It’s all complemented by a simple but effective and surprisingly punchy soundtrack that gives the game a distinct modern-day identity. As impressive as the game is however, I did encounter a few bugs and glitches; calling my spouse made it seem like she had stayed behind at home, even though she was accompanying me this whole trip, while checking my email kept bringing up a message from a fan wanting to meet my character, even though I’d already completed that encounter. Still, none of these bugs broke the game, and to their credit, the developers have been rolling out bug fixes galore.
Full credit to this game’s developers for their ambitions and ideas. Given the size and scope of this game, it’s perhaps unsurprising that it doesn’t always do justice to its idea-saturated narrative. What it does offer is surprises and flaws in equal measure, and in my view, it’s always a good sign when you’re thinking about a game after the credits have rolled. No matter what else I have to say about Sometimes Always Monsters, it definitely had me doing just that.
Comments