This is the two hundred thirty-fourth entry in the Scratching That Itch series, wherein I randomly select and write about one of the 1741 games and game-related things included in the itch.io Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality. The Bundle raised $8,149,829.66 split evenly between the NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund and Community Bail Fund, but don’t worry if you missed it. There are plenty of ways you can help support the vital cause of racial justice; try here for a start. This particular entry is also part of the Keeping Score series about games and their soundtracks. Lastly, as always, you may click on images to view larger versions.

Our two hundred thirty-fourth random selection from the itch.io Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality is explaining its own symbolism to us. It’s The Search, by Jason Godbey, and its tagline in the bundle reads:

A story-driven puzzle-adventure set in a mysterious world where art comes…

A quick check of the itch.io page reveals that this is supposed to end with “where art comes to life!”

The Search is like Myst. For any readers who are unfamiliar with the 1993 smash hit that convinced everyone to get CD-ROM drives for their computers, Myst is a first person adventure game where players explore a surreal island and solve puzzles. But they don’t explore it as a smooth, 3D space. Instead, they click to move between static, pre-rendered viewpoints. That meant Myst could show a higher-fidelity 3D world than other games at the time (compare to System Shock from 1994, which I wrote about way back at the beginning of this blog as my fourth ever History Lessons post), but this came at some cost to immersion. Myst was highly divisive at the time, with fans lauding its beautiful locations and nonviolent exploration and puzzles, and detractors deriding it as a glorified slideshow with puzzles that didn’t make much sense. I fell somewhere in the middle, ultimately having some fun with it but disappointed by how abstract its puzzles were.

It was undeniably popular, however, spawning multiple sequels and influencing a lot of adventure games that came afterwards. Like The Search, which plays in a nearly identical manner. Click to turn or move forwards, transitioning to a new static image of the environment, just like in Myst. The Search even starts in an overtly surreal location, with its unnamed protagonist narrating as she wonders where she is and what’s going on. There are handwritten notes lying around everywhere, recalling Myst’s book pages hidden across its various explorable ages. The Search hews closer to a traditional adventure game for its puzzles, however. There are no weird machines to tinker with or water flows to inexplicably redirect here. Instead, players collect items in their inventory, examine them, and use (or combine) them as appropriate. Usually to paint their way out of a situation.

I’m not sure I’d describe this process as puzzle-solving, exactly. The Search is a small, short game, and there’s not a lot of places to explore, so it’s pretty easy to find items. What’s more, the way to use these items (and the reasoning behind it) is usually explicitly spelled out. Sometimes in a note, sometimes by the protagonist’s voiced narration. Let’s say there’s a gate blocking the way; players must find a canvas to place over it, and then paint an open passageway, which they can walk right through. Doing that requires finding and distilling concepts that can be channeled into the artwork. The Search, you see, is all about the artistic process.

Very explicitly so. Those handwritten notes scattered everywhere are signed by someone called “The Invisible”, and they offer advice for finding inspiration and being true to oneself. When found, the protagonist will not only read them aloud, but then offer her own commentary, usually by referencing a quote from Carl Jung or a philosopher she studied. Often, she’s simply restating what the note said in a different way, as if to ensure the player gets it. You get it, right? How you mustn’t let your art be dictated by others’ values and ideas, but must be true to yourself? You must create for the sheer joy of creating? OK, good, just checking.

Nothing is up for interpretation in The Search. It’s more interested in explaining things to players than it is in showing them, often sounding like a philosophy lecture instead of a game. When I found the bad ending, the protagonist literally explained to me what it symbolized, before I was given the option to try again to find the good ending. This stifling writing style was frustrating, because I like a lot of other things about The Search. I like how its initially surreal world led to more mundane locations like a cobble-stoned European street lined with sleepy cafes, or a fog-shrouded lighthouse. I like the ambient soundscapes in these places, full of birdsong and rustling breeze. I like the way its simple puzzles follow an internal logic in a way Myst’s never did. And I particularly liked a mechanical twist at the end that reinforced its message of avoiding creative traps in order to find true inspiration. I just wish that message wasn’t delivered in such a heavy-handed manner.

That ultimately makes it hard to recommend The Search, but fans of Myst and/or players who like discussing the philosophy and psychology they’ve been reading might enjoy it more. If you’re intrigued, The Search is sold for a minimum price of $3.99, and includes the soundtrack in that price. Which brings me to…

The Score:

The soundtrack to The Search consists of five tracks, spanning about eleven and a half minutes. The first, “The Threshold”, is a short acoustic guitar piece credited to Jason Godbey himself, while the second, the quiet piano piece “Ouendake”, is credited to Goldmund (one of the aliases of Keith Kenniff). The remaining tracks are all credited to JewelBeat.com, a provider of royalty-free music. These keep a similar style, with acoustic string plucks augmented by a few string swells on “Unseen Forces At Work”. “Web of Deceit” is the only track with significant percussion elements, making for a spookier feel, while “The Search” brings in a full orchestra to end things with a more epic sound.

Honestly, the JewelBeat tracks feel a bit generic to me, but I like the simple reverberating guitar and tinkly piano of the first two pieces. Both of these leave a lot of space between the notes, letting me pick up subtle aspects of the instruments. A soft squeak as the fingers slide along the guitar strings to a new fret. The clicks of the hammers in the piano, and the way the tones echo through its body and resonate with the other strings. These details bring to mind a calm focus, of listening carefully to the interior of the instruments, which matches the theme of looking inward in self-contemplation that’s so explicitly stated in the game. The music from JewelBeat is fine, but it’s much drier, I suspect because it uses synthesized versions of instruments rather than the genuine articles with all their quirks.

Still, the music is pleasant enough, and I won’t mind when it pops up while shuffling my music collection. A nice bonus, given it’s included with the game for no extra cost.

That’s 234 down, and only 1507 to go!