TOEM 2 helps capture the light in a dark, vile world.
Let’s cut to the chase: the state of the world ain’t so hot right now. There’s a fascist predator in the big house painted white, livelihoods of the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities are attacked on a daily basis, there’s an active genocide occurring before our eyes, and all of that is barely scratching the surface. Lately, I’ve been catching myself in an endless doomscroll loop of violence, bigotry, hatred, and worst of all, hopelessness. While I can stop myself for a moment, I can’t help but pick the phone back up and get slammed with more. Sure, the sporadic lighthearted piece breaks the rhythm for a moment, and maybe that’s why I don’t stop myself. Regardless, the side effect remains the same. The fog grows denser, the sting in my eyes becomes more intense, and the will to get off the couch and do anything becomes less and less present.
Is this the start you expected when clicking a TOEM 2 headline? Before we get any deeper, this isn’t a review. You’ve likely already heard how charming, delightful, and outright fun the game is, which is all true! You should play it. As for this piece, I don’t really know what this is, nor do I know if I’ll even publish it. I’m just typing, and we’ll see where we land. Anyways, here’s a crow to help get us back into it.
The original TOEM launched as the world was attempting to get some sort of normalcy back from lockdown. While there was still so much anxiety and trauma fresh in our hearts, TOEM provided a space for simulated exploration and a keen reminder of the beauty behind community. With the sequel five years later, developer Something We Made repeats history with a comforting reminder of kindness, hope, and the power one’s art holds. It’s kind of like your favorite band dropping an album in the midst of a gruesome breakup. There’s nothing like that sense of comfort.
(In case you were wondering, it was Blink-182’s California for me.)
For a wholesome game about snapping photos, the opening moments of TOEM 2 resonated harder than I anticipated. It opens with our protagonist waking up, heavy bags under their eyes, wandering their bedroom with a sluggish aura surrounding them. Call it looking too deeply into something that’s simply not there, but for some reason, I felt that aforementioned fog, stinging, and lack of will in this brief moment. What made it hit even harder was the snap from unmotivated to vibrancy as soon as a loved one is seen in the next room. Just like that, everything was okay. All it took was a friendly greeting. Now, was this all meant to simply portray a sleepy lad? Sure, most likely. But playing through that moment at the precise time that I did set the stage for what I found to be quite the healing experience overall. Do me a favor before we go any further and put a pin in the term “healing.”
Like the original, each of the imaginative biomes is brimming with life to capture. TOEM 2 holds a shorter runtime overall, but it’s a game that encourages you to take your time and capture the moment (literally and thematically). Whether it’s a directive to do some cloud watching or capture photos of birds, it’s a fantastic display of taking an active breath. Heck, there’s even a moment that encourages you to put the controller down and just exist. That’s the crux of what I’ve been experiencing lately. I get caught in a doom loop of despair and anxiety that feels escapeless. What’s stopping me from staring at the clouds? Especially as a cliché mid-30s millennial, why am I not birdwatching? The reality is I find excuses instead of taking a simple step towards mending the weight.
The other half of TOEM’s life is the community. Everyone is so enthusiastic about meeting a new friend and chatting. The characters are vibrant, friendly, and honestly capture the best of humanity. It’s the sense of community the original game captured so well, but amplified tenfold. What I found cathartic was the core essence of each of the characters’ “problems” you’re faced with, along with the instant gratification of making a difference in their individual worlds. Without delving too deeply into spoilers, a favorite involved a troll on a bridge. The big man wouldn’t budge or allow any travelers through, but he made his admiration for goats crystal clear. Surely a keepsake would lift his mood, and damn. The troll may as well have been holding a winning lotto ticket. Instead, it was a photo of three goats I was able to gift him.
The troll and his reaction to the photo set off a few much-needed sparks in my nervous system. The purest form of joy was found in something objectively small. While not a big deal for most, the simple keepsake took someone’s spirit from the near-ground floor up to the penthouse suite. Better yet, it was a simple gesture from a stranger; one that will surely be an unforgettable moment that will stand the test of time. Going even further, that was achieved through an art form only possible through human nature. While I’ve not fully reached bridge troll status yet, I don’t think I’d have the same reaction if someone artificially generated an image of a goat instead of taking the time, care, and patience to use their art and leave a piece of their heart in a photograph. The essence of those sparks are simple: something small making a gargantuan, positive impact.
Remember the pin? Time to take it out. “Healing” is an important distinction, as I don’t necessarily feel “healed” after rolling credits. But like a bandage over a nasty wound, I was able to forget about the pain for an afternoon and be reminded of the good that still exists in our world. Yes, it’s a fictional video game. But the inspiration driving the development cycle is as real as it gets. It’s the neighbor who takes your trash to the curb just to do it, the rabbit running across the yard, the painting that creates an immediate connection to the artist. While it’s so easy to allow yourself to seep into everything vile, feel hopeless, and drown, TOEM 2 is an important reminder that there is still light in the midst of all that is dark. Compounding light will eventually flush out the dark. All you need to do is step outside, take a breath, and remind yourself it’s still there.
Now, if you have any entry-level camera recommendations, I kinda have the itch to pick up a new hobby.
