Before Your Eyes Review (F1sh)
“No matter how much you like it, you’re not gonna be able to stay, alright?”
This phrase is uttered by a mysterious ferryman as the player finds themselves in the afterlife at the beginning of Before Your Eyes, a game that attracted my attention through its gameplay mechanic alone. In short, you experience a person’s life throughout the game, and time skips forward when you blink.
I remember a scene in the game when I(Benjamin) was in the hospital bed and overheard a doctor say to my parents, “we want him home from school for a while, just until this nasty thing clears….” I blinked by accident, and that memory was cut short. I didn’t want to blink, as whatever the doctor said was most likely important. What is the “nasty thing” that he was talking about? Is Benjamin alright? I felt regret after that, assuming that I had missed out on an important narrative. I tried to fight against nature, doing everything I could to keep my eyes open and stay in those memories just a little longer, denying the inevitability of the blink. I wanted to preserve the whole story, even those dark, painful bits of memory that would just as soon blink right past. After each blink, I was thrown into the next scene so quickly that I didn’t even have the time to think about the last one because if I did, I’d miss this one as well.
Reflecting on this game, I appreciate the game’s clever usage of blinking to demonstrate the fragility of memory and the inevitability of time. Memory is imperfect. I can clearly remember parts of my life that I can close my eyes and be right there in the moment. Other memories fade away or are forgotten, just like the hospital scene in my playthrough. As a child, sitting in the hospital for hours felt interminable to Benjamin, and he had no reason to remember the adult conversations in the background. Blinking through his life felt like watching one of those videos where you see a person taking a picture every day of their life for years and putting them together frame by frame into a timelapse. It felt emotional, and the intensity is dramatically amplified by putting the stake of skipping memories behind the blinking. You’re trying to hold on to those moments, but inevitably, you will blink. Thousands of blinks and you’ll miss precious recollections: birthday celebrations, the discovery of a hobby, the beginning of friendships, going through a tough time, and the loss of someone close. It further highlights how fast time flies–in the blink of an eye.
There are a few moments in Before Your Eyes when the game asks you to close your eyes and keep them shut. In those moments, everything from the game to the camera and computer melts away; it is just you, the characters, and your memories. In those brief seconds of complete tranquility, I stop fixating on the legacy I want to build and just cherish what I have. Only then do I suddenly realize that I have a great life, one that is worth caring for, one that is real. I don’t know how much I’ll remember this game years down the line, but I think I’ll remember sitting at my desk with my eyes closed and immersed in the game, glad to be feeling in the present.