(CW: suicide and game dev trauma)
i won't finish this game is an "incomplete" game: it lacks menu graphics, GUI, music, and all the other components you would expect from a visual novel. And the narration lampshades that in the very beginning. We are thus introduced to the narrator, a game developer who -- for many personal reasons unknown to us -- cannot complete a game.
Instead, they hear the voices of their more successful peers: sending funny pictures of cats while showing off their game progress. Their developer friends have large followings and often receive encouraging comments. The narrator is clearly jealous of their friends, but they are also supportive of the work, making sure to leave comments and good ratings. In the eyes of the friends, the narrator is a supportive person who is going to make a cool game someday. But in their own perspective, that is not the case.
I found this narration effective because I've been there myself. It's easy to see myself as a failure, as someone who cannot complete games. I know that my envy toward friends are misplaced and I can't shake it. The first half of the game is the narrator questioning their own interpersonal feelings and how they feel they are a burden to their friends; that's a feeling I'm all too familiar with as I watch my friends succeed in their careers while I feel like I haven't done anything all that incredible. It's a touching essay about how jealousy manifests itself in strange ways, making people feel suicidal and depressed, even though they should be happy for their friends.
But the game becomes more compelling when the narrator learns about a visual novel with high production values released on a game jam. Unlike this visual novel, it has a slick GUI, music, voice acting, and much more. There is clearly a lot of effort put into the title -- and yet, the story is manipulative: it kills off a character with a flimsy suicide excuse or has the player character murder them, and the game asks the player to create burner accounts and TikToks to get the game 5,000 ratings on itch.io if they want to see their favorite character live.1
It's tasteless, and that may be why it's so effective at getting people to play the game. People are shocked by the game and are "moved" to save this character because the character is being held hostage by the author and there is a small chance that they can save the character. The narrator is confused and angry that people are reacting to this game with awe and shock: How could a team with so much money and talent make something so sleazy and offensive, and still be rewarded for their shitty efforts?
Very few visual novels, let alone an incomplete title, will ever be able to match the viral success of a suicide-baiting title. A game that explores suicide in a nuanced and empathetic way will never be as popular as a title that uses suicide as shock and does all the "good game design"-isms. It's a grim thought that I unfortunately have no idea how to respond.
But for the narrator of i won't finish this game, there is an answer: a commitment to never finish a game. If finishing a game results in a title that disrespects the lived experience of suicidal people, then so be it: they'll never finish the game, and that's why we have this game in this form factor.
The game comes from a real source of frustration with oneself and the unfairness of indie/underground game development. We are often told that working for the corpos is akin to losing your soul, but when someone can make such a tasteless title for a visual novel jam, all bets are off. After all, a game is a game -- it is a commodity made to entertain people. No wonder someone decided to make something that relies on cheap, manipulative storytelling tricks that hurt people who then want more from the game. After all, audiences are consumers, even in a non-paying environment. Who cares if said consumers are people who think about suicide? In a marketplace of games, the audience is simply a mass that should keep giving them clicks and money. A classic case of supply and demand, not some mysterious need to make interesting games that care about and respect people. The meritocratic underground game scene is susceptible to the same capitalism woes as AAA gaming is.
Hence, the radical answer: "i won't finish this game."
It is radical because it is disappointing. The statement rejects success and completion as a goal and paradoxically becomes more "complete" and meaningful. While the narrator finds solace in suicide as a rejection of life, perhaps the real solace is in rejecting the need to complete games and compare oneself to other successful people. I see this determination to reject games as a way of rejecting the commodity and trying to find something more beautiful and interesting.
I found this title powerful for that reason. I'm not sure what the author's message is, but as someone who wrote the main scenario for a visual novel about game developer trauma and the meaninglessness of making visual novels, it resonated with me. For a long time, I was unsure of the point of making games that people ordered me to make. I was supposed to feel success, but I felt nothing. In my delusions, I would see the underground game space as a place to escape to, but I know that's not true at all. No matter where I go, I know I'll be looking at the analytics page and comparing my stats to other people's. The one solo dev game that was successful horrified me because I saw it as a failure and everyone said it was beautiful. Is this what being a successful game dev is like? I was stuck in a rut, and the world of "artistic" expression around me felt hollow. In a word, alienation. This game, from the perspective of someone who has completed several games, feels like a concise, effective, and subversive summation of my experiences in the itch.io space.
And very few people will bother to download this incomplete game. Instead, more people will play other titles that use cheap spectacle, predatory mechanics, and abusive parasocial dynamics to keep players engaged.
I don't want to be a part of this churning. I don't know if I have the strength to stop making games because it's the only thing that keeps me sane in this world, but this title reminds me that it doesn't matter if the games I make are incomplete. If success means so little, then I should be able to make subversive titles that are flawed in people's eyes. The envy we all feel for successful projects may feel wrong (and it usually does), but there are times when we should accept that it's okay to be spiteful.
It's fine to never finish a game if success still means exploitation.
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This game is real, by the way. I am not naming the game because that would be pretty disrespectful to the author of i won't finish this game.
