While the worst people on the internet still whine when games make even the most tenuous of political statements, active beliefs and social commentary remain inseparable from any artistic creation. It can be toned down and outright denied by its publishers, but personal beliefs have (and will always have) a place in games. In the early 90’s, when our destruction of the environment somehow synced with the American marketing machine, developers for the Sega Genesis capitalized on environmentalism’s newfound social cognizance. Vectorman and Ecco the Dolphin, among other Sega games, featured plot machinations and content connected to our decaying ecosystem. While the educational space never let go of the connection between games and conservation, they have been largely absent from the commercial side.
It’s no coincidence that Jupiter & Mars, the first game from Tigertron (with help from Tantalus and Wicked Witch), is being released on Earth Day. It’s premised on a pair of dolphins—you play as Jupiter and direct an otherwise independent Mars—swimming through a world mankind decimated long ago. Still-active machines continue to plague the ocean while our dolphin couple work together to clean up the mess. Deeply infectious pop and trance music, a kaleidoscope of color, and striking neon highlights juxtapose subdued themes of desperation and guilt. It leaves Jupiter & Mars in a position to make a statement without losing sight of its obligation for sensory entertainment.
Points of interaction are simple and clear. Playing from a first-person perspective, Jupiter can pulse a sonar shockwave into the nearby seascape. This transitions the ocean floor into neon-constructed outlines, not unlike the turn-of-the-century cyberspace that surrounded the player in Rez. It also turns pieces of the environment into different bright colors. Mars, if directed toward yellow (and, later, blue) structures, can crack them open. In the case of clams, this will reveal collectibles stashed away all over the environment. Sonar pulses also do an effective job of illuminating some otherwise dark caverns that compose the ocean floor.
Jupiter can also directly interact with her environment with more localized pulses. Crabs draped in garbage, blowfish covered in weird pollution, and lost sea turtles can all benefit from Jupiter’s attention. This mechanic can also be used to clear hostile jellyfish out of the way. There aren’t too many other available places to use it, however, suggesting Jupiter’s basic system of personal interaction was, at one time, intended to have more of an influence in in Jupiter & Mars.
Progression is handled with mandatory upgrades found each level. The ability to dive deeper, to move past stiff currents, and to survive in cold water limit access to certain sections of each level. Generally this flows in a state that aligns with natural progression, but there are a few areas that require another visit after the game is finished. When I replayed Jupiter & Mars I was pleased to discover additional challenges, in the form of patrolling sentries and available collectibles, in these areas.
The objective game inside Jupiter & Mars involves navigating past, and usually destroying, AHD machines inside each of its five levels. These machines pulse intermittent spherical waves that harm sea life. To put Mars in the position to crack the generator ,rocks that glow purple with sonar can act as cover. From here Jupiter & Mars becomes a limited stealth game where you have to move Jupiter up, down, and around safe rocks in between machine pulses.
The addition of a z-axis makes Jupiter & Mars different from top-down or third-person stealth games, but Jupiter & Mars‘ level design isn’t especially engaging. It’s simple, trial-and-error gameplay is easily circumvented and only occasionally requires poking around for a backdoor path. Patrolling drones, invincible units on predetermined routes, only require patience and a bit of observation in order to create a path forward. Jupiter & Mars’ form isn’t poor, but it doesn’t exactly demand proficiency from its audience.
I’m good with that. What Jupiter & Mars tries to achieve is on the same scale as Abzu and Flower. It’s a serene adventure that, while occasionally expressing trouble with player direction, uses its medium as an audio and visual experience and provides the player with something to do along the way. Long-form moments of traversal would count as downtime if it didn’t create the opportunity for Jupiter & Mars‘ music to flow, swell, and eventually explode.
Music is as important to Jupiter & Mars as its message and its visual presentation. Heavy, diverse synths and carefully controlled progression match the rising and falling tension of sequences in each level. OceanLab’s work, minus the immediacy and quick tempo, is an apt comparison. So is listening to the Tron Legacy soundtrack while performing deep see dolphin aerobics. Whatever your point of reference, Jupiter & Mars subverts it by matching the delivery of its music with the action of the player. In its moments of trance-like bliss Jupiter & Mars’ almost resembles the esoteric PlayStation dolphin-simulator-music-generator, Depth, which was a delightful surprise.
While Jupiter & Mars is effective at sending a message, it didn’t always seem as articulate as I had hoped. Sometimes I got lost and found myself in places I had already been while it regressed to music I had already heard. Certain landmarks of our lost civilization are also right on-the-nose. I couldn’t help but think Abzu had communicated Jupiter & Mars‘ themes of an abandoned planet with a more gentle touch. Rez’ influence can’t be understand either, and Jupiter & Mars doesn’t come as close with its synchronization of player action and soundtrack. In these cases it feels like Jupiter & Mars hoped to achieve more than its straightforward adventure.
Limitations are especially visible when Jupiter & Mars makes them perfectly clear. There’s something resembling a boss encounter at the end of its penultimate level and its punch does not connect. Mechanically it’s as simple as locking on to a bunch of tentacle targets, almost at random. Worse, as a response to Jupiter & Mars’ narrative, it doesn’t seem to fit in the context of its story. Mars occasionally freezing in place for a few seconds, which also happened a handful of times while I was exploring, didn’t help matters much.
Jupiter & Mars is intended to be played with PlayStation VR. On my initial run, I played it this way through a PlayStation 4 Pro. Total immersion and a great set of headphones set the stage for its first-person dolphin adventure, but I actually had more fun on my second run when I left virtual reality behind and played it normally. It looked so much sharper on my television and the pulse/x-ray effect seems so much more vivid and pronounced on a giant screen. Perhaps, almost three years into its life, I’m losing touch with PlayStation VR’s novelty, but Jupiter & Mars felt more expressive and effective outside of virtual reality.
Some flaws, however present they may be, don’t get in the way of Jupiter & Mars’ its message. Aspects may have been handled better with a larger budget and a wider focus, but it wouldn’t change the game’s underlying statement. When so many other games hedge on any sort of belief or political statement, it’s a positive step forward Jupiter & Mars to state something concrete, even if it is raising awareness for an issue that should blindingly obvious. When Gran Turismo Sport is integrating ads for expensive watches in its user interface and free-to-play interfaces feel predatory, it’s an odd relief to see Jupiter & Mars to offer SeaLegacy and The Ocean Foundation donation pages in its pause menu.
Jupiter & Mars presents a sincere restoration of the radical environmentalism that permeated pop culture in the early 90’s. Steering its pair of dolphins through a neon post-human wonderland measures against its persistent undercurrent of despair and culpability. Jupiter & Mars lets players smile at what’s left while scowling at the wreckage we’re doomed to leave behind.