- a game about understanding a place as home and knowing every aspect of its place. You can partake of another’s nostalgia
- tag controls (up is always forward, you have to rotate to move, and it feels more like a movie)
- you can play the entire game with one hand
- the menu: you click the picture frame to go back to playing
- whereas other games have their user interfaces as add-ons that get in the way, boku no natsuyasumi canonicizes them, turning them into essential parts of the story. They are not only assimilated into your experience of the game but a necessary part
- limited music. mostly it’s ambient sounds
- every screen possesses a slightly diff soundscape and the sound channel changes as the camera changes. breeds also change.
- mission: hang out with your uncle’s family for a month lol
- screens are turns (progress the time)
- every night, writes in his diary “kyo-wa nanimonai subarashi itchinitchi-datta” (今日は何もない素晴らしい一日だった) — “today was a wonderful day”
- when you try to score a perfect run, it starts to steep you in a liar juice. it drips you in stress, so if you try to maximize it, you “fail”
- You achieve the best ending by scoring 60-70% of the game, not achieving all of the game: https://youtu.be/779coR-XPTw?t=12830
- if you try to optimize to get everything you fail for optimizing everything
- it calls you a liar if you get the perfect ending, sweetly reprimands you (you are a famous novelist about your summer vacation)
- A LONG VACATION
- you must take yourself from everything else
- memory is not enough
- nostalgia prompts reverse desire
- #phrases “our memory only remembers the cold parts”
- nostalgia = “i could not keep this”
- what is my epithath
- memory is not keeping - you don’t own yourself
- places do not remember us unless we’re dead
- #phrases “meanwhile our shattering animals”
- Hayao Miyazaki - people should only watch my neighbor totoro once as a child and once as an adult
- boku no natsuyasumi says that everyone’s childhood is precious to them.
- nostalgia is a product of love, an accumulation of our self. it compounds on itself. our nostalgia might be more useful to someone else than ourselves.