This is quite a difficult review to write, as by every conventional criterion, Cradle is unquestionably a poorly designed game. It is against almost all proven principles of video game design, not because they were trying to be “experimental” to push the boundary of video games further, nor because they intended to rebel against all commandments to feel cool about themselves. It’s more likely that the devs have no idea how video games work, as if they have never played a video game before, only have had the concept of adventure games thoroughly explained to them.

Gameplay-wise, Cradle is just way too incomprehensible and counterintuitive as a story-driven adventure game, even an experienced gamer of this genre like myself can hardly make any progress without looking up a walkthrough. It’s full of odd design choices that no sane developer would ever choose. The story it delivers isn’t any good either, it doesn’t even have an ending (not a cliffhanger or TBC kind of things, it just… ends, in the middle of nowhere). But ironically, the reason to all these confusions is also the reason why it fascinated me this much that despite all its conspicuous flaws, I am still giving it a thumbs-up.

Cradle is a game that doesn’t feel like being artificially “designed”, and moreover, it’s a game in which you can barely feel the presence of the developers behind it. (This impression has been further strengthened by its credits, which is simply just a list of names, without mentioning who did what at all.) By saying “presence”, I don’t mean to imply that Cradle lacks of personality and artistic touch, no, Cradle is actually brimming with such things. What I mean by the word, is the “string” controlled by game developers, under which you, the player, are hung like a puppet.

Video games are increasingly manipulative these days, because game developers like to play the omnipresent God in their own creations. It is understandable, since it is the common dream of all creators of all art forms. But considering the fact that video games are so far probably the most interactive medium of art, which makes it more like a two-way conversation, then its manipulative nature become something that’s hard to ignore. All your involvement in video games (especially in story-driven games) are indirectly controlled or influenced by the omnipotent and omnipresent God AKA the developer, when should you cry, when should you get stuck, when should you take a pause, when should you feel like a pro, when should you need a hint, when should you pay for microtransactions et cetera, et cetera. Yes, almost all your interactions within a game are “designed” and expected. Nothing magic, just an aggregation of countless playtesting and user research sessions. It’s okay, and it won’t make video games less fun, it’s just that in some cold, lonely nights, you just can’t stop wondering: “what’s the point of playing video games?” Once you start to look at it this way, it’s hard not to relate oneself to a guinea pig, that being observed and manipulated by a bunch of puppeteers in lab coat through a one-way mirror.

Somehow Cradle is different, if we keep using the God metaphor, the developers behind it are more the reclusive kind of God, who prefers to leave his world after created it. However, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t a responsible God, on the contrary, he put a ridiculous amount of effort into fabricating every nook and cranny of the world: all these minor details that most players would simply ignore, all these unrelated places that no one would ever consider going to. For instance, almost every environmental prop that would normally appear as background texture in other games, is fully textualized in Cradle. Wastepaper that randomly scattered over the floor, posters and newspapers that were used as wall patch, even decorative stickers and stamps, all of such things were made as clickable documents in Cradle … Yes, they are all useless details, but isn’t the very foundation of the world we’re living in consisted of such useless details as well?

What truly confirmed the impression of the absence of the reclusive God was that unlike regular games in which all things were designed in a constitutive manner (like which direction should a spotlight point to show you the right way, how key item should be highlighted through the composition of its surrounding objects, where and how frequently should a spark flicker to seize your attention), everything in Cradle existed so naturally, just like how things should be in a self-consistent world. They just, “be there”, as though how things should have always been, instead of being purposely put there by a force of divine origin.

Furthermore, the world of Cradle is not only self-consistent but also self-interpreting. Every aspect of it makes perfect sense in its own context, from the beautifulness of its overall art design to the stupidity of its minigame sections, albeit some of which may seem inappropriate on their own, it is just impossible to untangle and find better solutions for them, because all the aspects of Cradle were connected so tightly and systematically with each other, and were properly supported and explained by the narrative. Thus, despite the rather unusual setting they chose: “a neo-Buddhist Mongolian protagonist in a post-apocalyptic transhuman society that values beautifulness over everything.” (Yeah, I know it’s kinda overwhelming), through all the practices I mentioned above, they successfully managed to make it convincing and intriguing.

There is no telling that the end result was whether due to their incompetence or a deliberate design choice, either way, the result stayed the same. That Cradle is not a properly designed game no doubt, yet the world it created - a world that I can spend hours within just aimlessly walking around and looking at things, is certainly among the most believable and immersive ones I have seen. I enjoyed my every second within it.

This is quite a difficult review to write, as by every conventional criterion, [i]Cradle[/i] is unquestionably a poorly designed game. It is against almost all proven principles of video game design, not because they were trying to be “experimental” to push the boundary of video games further, nor because they intended to rebel against all commandments to feel cool about themselves. It’s more likely that the devs have no idea how video games work, as if they have never played a video game before, only have had the concept of adventure games thoroughly explained to them. Gameplay-wise, [i]Cradle[/i] is just way too incomprehensible and counterintuitive as a story-driven adventure game, even an experienced gamer of this genre like myself can hardly make any progress without looking up a walkthrough. It’s full of odd design choices that no sane developer would ever choose. [spoiler]The story it delivers isn’t any good either, it doesn’t even have an ending (not a cliffhanger or TBC kind of things, it just… ends, in the middle of nowhere). [/spoiler] But ironically, the reason to all these confusions is also the reason why it fascinated me this much that despite all its conspicuous flaws, I am still giving it a thumbs-up. [i]Cradle[/i] is a game that doesn’t feel like being artificially “designed”, and moreover, it’s a game in which you can barely feel the presence of the developers behind it. (This impression has been further strengthened by its credits, which is simply just a list of names, without mentioning who did what at all.) By saying “presence”, I don’t mean to imply that [i]Cradle[/i] lacks of personality and artistic touch, no, [i]Cradle[/i] is actually brimming with such things. What I mean by the word, is the “string” controlled by game developers, under which you, the player, are hung like a puppet. Video games are increasingly manipulative these days, because game developers like to play the omnipresent God in their own creations. It is understandable, since it is the common dream of all creators of all art forms. But considering the fact that video games are so far probably the most interactive medium of art, which makes it more like a two-way conversation, then its manipulative nature become something that’s hard to ignore. All your involvement in video games (especially in story-driven games) are indirectly controlled or influenced by the omnipotent and omnipresent God AKA the developer, when should you cry, when should you get stuck, when should you take a pause, when should you feel like a pro, when should you need a hint, when should you pay for microtransactions et cetera, et cetera. Yes, almost all your interactions within a game are “designed” and expected. Nothing magic, just an aggregation of countless playtesting and user research sessions. It’s okay, and it won’t make video games less fun, it’s just that in some cold, lonely nights, you just can’t stop wondering: “what’s the point of playing video games?” Once you start to look at it this way, it’s hard not to relate oneself to a guinea pig, that being observed and manipulated by a bunch of puppeteers in lab coat through a one-way mirror. Somehow [i]Cradle[/i] is different, if we keep using the God metaphor, the developers behind it are more the reclusive kind of God, who prefers to leave his world after created it. However, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t a responsible God, on the contrary, he put a ridiculous amount of effort into fabricating every nook and cranny of the world: all these minor details that most players would simply ignore, all these unrelated places that no one would ever consider going to. For instance, almost every environmental prop that would normally appear as background texture in other games, is fully textualized in [i]Cradle[/i]. Wastepaper that randomly scattered over the floor, posters and newspapers that were used as wall patch, even decorative stickers and stamps, all of such things were made as clickable documents in [i]Cradle[/i] … Yes, they are all useless details, but isn’t the very foundation of the world we’re living in consisted of such useless details as well? What truly confirmed the impression of the absence of the reclusive God was that unlike regular games in which all things were designed in a constitutive manner (like which direction should a spotlight point to show you the right way, how key item should be highlighted through the composition of its surrounding objects, where and how frequently should a spark flicker to seize your attention), everything in [i]Cradle[/i] existed so naturally, just like how things should be in a self-consistent world. They just, “be there”, as though how things should have always been, instead of being purposely put there by a force of divine origin. Furthermore, the world of [i]Cradle[/i] is not only self-consistent but also self-interpreting. Every aspect of it makes perfect sense in its own context, from the beautifulness of its overall art design to the stupidity of its minigame sections, albeit some of which may seem inappropriate on their own, it is just impossible to untangle and find better solutions for them, because all the aspects of [i]Cradle[/i] were connected so tightly and systematically with each other, and were properly supported and explained by the narrative. Thus, despite the rather unusual setting they chose: [i]“a neo-Buddhist Mongolian protagonist in a post-apocalyptic transhuman society that values beautifulness over everything.”[/i] (Yeah, I know it’s kinda overwhelming), through all the practices I mentioned above, they successfully managed to make it convincing and intriguing. There is no telling that the end result was whether due to their incompetence or a deliberate design choice, either way, the result stayed the same. That [i]Cradle[/i] is not a properly designed game no doubt, yet the world it created - a world that I can spend hours within just aimlessly walking around and looking at things, is certainly among the most believable and immersive ones I have seen. I enjoyed my every second within it.