‘Florence’ and Brilliant Visual Storytelling
Unlike most mobile games I’ve played, ‘Florence’ tells its story in subtle and clever ways, indicating that the developers tried to tell this story exclusively for mobile players. Many games often feel patched in, ported, or downright bad when played on mobile. From quiet beginning to resounding finale, ‘Florence’ lives and breathes in the mobile sphere, refreshing and vibrant in a way that has single-handedly restored my faith in the potential conversation about how mobile games can tell stories in artful ways.
We are treated to the story of Florence Yeoh, a young woman whose life montages in front of us. The game begins with small mechanics that a child might be able to intuit: brushing your teeth, coloring in blank shapes, solving arithmetic problems, etc. These mechanics, almost mini-games, are subtly integrated with an ever-aging Florence. We see, through the way we play, her grow up.
Soon these context clues become explicit, and there is a beautiful moment of seeing Florence and her two best childhood friends. We see the three young girls dressed up in tiaras at age 7, and the game requires you, the player, to manually wind the clock further. By as early as age 10, we see the girls growing distant. Florence stands awkwardly in between them, no longer smiling with youthful exuberance, but holding her arm down to avoid taking up too much space.
By age 14, this mood completes its arc. By age 19, she has put on headphones and is looking down at her phone. By 25, she is alone.
This scene resonated deeply with me, a 24 year old, especially given recent studies about epidemic levels of loneliness in America, and the world in general. Without a word, ‘Florence’ evokes the quiet suffering of young people. But to see the hopelessness with which young people are facing be addressed head on, and by a game, a mobile game at that, is powerful. And unexpected.
Florence eventually falls in love with a charming young musician. This relationship begins in beautiful ways, but I found the mechanics of maintaining the relationship to be the more resonant and interesting focus of the middle chapters in the game. Conversations, for instance, take the form of puzzles. You are presented with a dialogue box and puzzle pieces, and have to put them together properly. Like the early stages of many relationships, conversation has to be conscious before it can be natural.
Conversation eventually becomes natural for Florence, however, and we see her blossom into a happy young woman. This relationship is only part of her blooming character arc, however. She rediscovers her inner artist, she travels, she puts the pieces of meaning back together in her life. As cheesy as the expression may be, she “finds herself.”
The apotheosis of Florence’s relationship is brilliantly illustrated by a moment in which her partner is accepted into music school. When presented with the opportunity, you (Florence) literally push him up to the door of the academy. It’s a small but poignant moment of how strong and healthy relationships can be, entirely illustrated by mechanics – not words.
But, of course, this wouldn’t be a very good story if conflict never interrupted Florence’s so-far perfect life. Inevitably, the relationship goes south. But even in this heartbreaking narrative moment, I was struck by how powerfully the mechanics informed the storytelling. The conversational puzzle pieces return, as you enter a heated argument with your partner at the store. In an even more powerful way, this puzzle dialogue viscerally evokes the tedium and tension of arguing with a romantic partner.
The couple resolves their argument, rekindles their relationship, and the game moves on. But there’s another fight. And this time, the puzzle pieces don’t fit together. I found myself confused (puzzled, perhaps) at first when the pieces wouldn’t fit. Why isn’t this working? And then the obvious realization hit me: this relationship is irreconcilable. The pieces actually couldn’t be put back together. Again, all of this is demonstrated through visual storytelling and game mechanics.
‘Florence’ blends the passage of time with visual storytelling in phenomenal and unique ways. Florence ages and goes through phases and learns so much about herself through the practice of finding strength in her abilities and values. Her worth is not bound to a romantic relationship. She is one of the most memorable characters in any videogame I’ve played – yet she doesn’t say a word.
‘Florence’ is a beautiful story that couldn’t be told with words. Playing it was a delight, and I eagerly await future games from Mountains, the developing team. I wonder if writing this is even a vain attempt to recapture that sense of a story best told without words, especially because of how powerful the story stands on its own. Go play it.
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