The Swapper:
What follows is the final of three articles on The Swapper. Part 1 and Part 2 are available at the proper links.
The Watchers are ancient, wise,
sentient rocks, native to the planet of Chori V. When the scientists
aboard Theseus Station visited the planet they orbited, they
discovered unique rocks which they brought aboard. Later the
scientists realized the rocks were sentient and called them Watchers,
out of a sense of anxiety. Unmoving, unable to speak, but
communicating in a unexplained manner, data logs across Theseus
station explain how the scientists were able to create the swapper
gun by studying their method of communication (though the details are
unexplained, and even the scientists admit they don't understand how
the gun functions). Yet, without producing any evidence, the
Triumvirate (Scavenger, Dennet, Chalmers) declares the Watchers
responsible for the death of everyone on the station. How they
murdered all the scientists, she never explains. She hypothesizes a
motive; the Watchers felt threatened when they were removed from
their planet to Theseus, and fought back. She proposes to return
them to the surface of Chori V, and the player spends the latter half
of the game dedicated to this goal.
Though The Swapper never
clarifies how, the Watchers communicate with the player whenever he
is within their vicinity. Passing nearby activates their telepathy,
and thoughts of a Watcher appear, while also ominously blurring the
entire screen. Based on the confidence with which the Watchers issue
their proclamations about the universe, one might expect them to be
in agreement. Yet, they are not united. For instance, one Watcher
declares, “Mind is only a brain, no such thing as swapper”, while
another replies, “Don't listen, mind is not only a brain.” But
they are in agreement that humanity (the protagonists, the
scientists) have separated themselves from a fundamental, universal
connection. Based on their cryptic proclamations, it's possible they
are referring to a universal consciousness, the ability to experience
all time as one, or a deep understanding of what it means to be a
self. Though the data logs of the scientists of the Theseus, and
conversations with the Triumvirate, imply an understanding of the
Watchers, their explanations only illustrate how oblivious they are.
The Triumvirate show the protagonist their most unnerving discovery,
a giant Watcher formed in the shape of a human head, like the Moai of
Easter Island. She believes it is the leader of the Watchers, a
conduit for their collective consciousness. But the head's creation,
ultimate purpose, function, and innateness are undecipherable by the
player.
At last we arrive
at the ending, and the beginning.
In the original
article I stressed my confusion over the identity of the protagonist.
The beginning of the game had faded from memory as the protagonist
worked themselves deeper into the maze. But after reviewing the
beginning on YouTube, it seems someone forced the protagonist into an
escape pod aboard Theseus Station, and the escape pod crashed on
Chori V. Yet, there is strong circumstantial evidence to believe the
protagonist was not a member of the crew (doesn't have knowledge of
the Event), nor was the protagonist sent to rescue the station (a
rescue crew arrives to rescue him). One possible theory, the
Scavenger (or the Triumvirate) created clones, sent them to the
planet, and the protagonist is one of these. But this generates
unanswered questions: How did he gain consciousness (Mind,
Self-hood), when all clones created by the player are mindless husks?
Perhaps this theory isn't even the best answer, but it's the one I
offer here.
While
the beginning is an interesting conundrum, the ending is a hurried,
semi-predetermined ending with a pointless binary choice. A rescue
party, hailed by the Scavenger, arrives to retrieve the protagonist.
They dispatch a member of the crew, and meet the meet the protagonist
while separated by a deep chasm. Facing each other across twenty
feet of empty space, the rescuer scans the protagonist, and transmits
the data to the ship's computer. It analyzes the data and reports of
the player's contamination. Unfortunately, the rescue ship doesn't
have the facilities to decontaminate the player, and they leave. The
Swapper doesn't explain
what has contaminated the protagonist. Even more disturbing, the
rescuers, who traveled a vast distance to Theseus Station, can't even
bother to try to devise a solution. They might as well have said,
“Hey, I know we spent weeks in transit to rescue you, but we aren't
willing to spend five minutes evaluating your situation.”
As the rescuer
recedes back to his ship, The Swapper presents the player two
choices. The protagonist can use the swapper gun to transfer their
mind into the crew member's body or dive to certain death in the
chasm. Neither solution is particularly satisfying. While both have
some tenuous philosophical relationship to the positions outlined
last week, neither are connected to any choice or action the
protagonist took earlier. Even worse, they are without consequence.
Once the choice has been made there is no more gameplay, just a
minute or two of conclusion. Nor does either ending offer any
sufficient answers, though dying in the chasm seems more
philosophically coherent, with unseen Watcher's narrating and
debating the player's choice. Though both endings are frustrating in
their sparseness, the writer seems to subtly undercut either
decision, with the resulting dialogue rendering the player's choice
untenable. A minor aside, in attempting to experience both endings
for this article, I encountered an infuriating development choice.
Though neither ending are based on prior choice, and both are without
consequence, a player cannot reload their save to access the other
ending. Reloading the save immediately sends the player to the
credits.
Briefly, it seems
as if choosing death implies the player believes in dualism, that
they will die to retain their identity, their oneness, still in
control of one's mind, and free to decide their own fate. But
swapping into the rescuers body demands a belief that nothing is
worse than death, a complete annihilation of the self. Perhaps it is
inappropriate to read too much into the end, as the conclusion is
truncated and without proper resolution. It's likely a player could
invest more energy in examining it than the writers devoted to
composing it.
In
conclusion, The Swapper
has too many loose ends, too many unexplained occurrences, too many
rules it creates and then breaks, and offers no reasonable
conclusion. It almost seems in its effort to remain impartial on the
issue of Dualism vs Monism, it is willing to let the structure of the
story disintegrate. Yet The
Swapper is an intricate
problem, and while the player is engage by the mysterious, thrilling
aesthetic, and the inspiring puzzles, these missteps can be
overlooked.
To
wrap up this review of The
Swapper, it seems proper
to employ a quote of a Watcher. It says, “Does it understand yet?”
and the answer both from another Watcher and myself is, “Certainly
not.” But that doesn't mean it's unenjoyable.
Comments
Post a Comment