Proteus

Proteus is a down-to-earth game about nature, in all it’s glory. Your first encounter with the island, it’s animalistic inhabitants and the living, breathing, musical atmosphere is sure to send chills down your spine, and the fact that the third visit manages to be just as exciting is a testament to Proteus’ greatness.

Proteus's ever-changing island is a joy to walk through, listen to and explore. [May 2013, p.84]

If you look at Dear Esther as a dark audio book Proteus is like looking at an interactive painting. Taking in every detail in this 8-bit world you realize the emotional power with which visuals and audio can create a poetic artwork.

Proteus is a very different sort of interactive experience. Maybe, by your definition, it's not even a game. But that doesn't matter. It's a joyous experiment in exploration from start to finish – even if it is a very, very short-lived one.

A childlike sense of amusement came over me while I explored the island in Proteus. Every time I saw something new in the distance, I got excited and had to see it up close. Proteus is a game that needs to be seen, experienced, and most of all, needs to be heard. Trust me, you'll want to wear headphones for this one.

Proteus is without a doubt not for everyone, because playing in the traditional sense of the word doesn't really happen. It does, however, deliver an enchanting experience through the harmony of images and sounds, which leaves enough room for your own imagination.

An independent experiment that has managed to free from the established genres, and out of its graphical and sound simplicity it has formed the experiences you cannot escape from.

Proteus requires a desire to explore, something that every gamer ostensibly possesses but is rarely asked to use. Much like thatgamecompany’s Journey, Ed Key pushes a spiritual experience that feels fresh immediately upon entry. Yes, it lasts about an hour. Yes, it is enchantingly poetic. And yes, it is deserving of as much play as open-minded gamers are willing to give it.

Pure minimalism: Proteus is the gaming equivalent to a Brian Eno album.

You might just find something you like, something completely different, or something that emotionally affects you in ways you never thought possible from a video game. And that alone makes Proteus a winner.

This is a compelling experience, the inspired outgrowth of a new complexity in the environmental design of videogames.

Proteus is beautiful. It's a different sort of interactive experience that needs to be seen.

How substantial it will be to you depends on how susceptible you are to its picturesque, vaguely pagan charm.

To ignore it for avoiding standard conventions would be a mistake. Put any preconceptions aside and let Ed Key and David Kanaga’s work take you in.

With a defined beginning, four distinct seasonal environments and an affecting, surprising conclusion, there's no question that Proteus is a game. But if there's one concern, it's whether this is an island that's worth revisiting once you've seen all it has to offer. In a way, its lack of progression – the absence of skill trees, difficulty levels and save points – works in its favour; you won't dive back in to mop up the last few achievements, or to climb leaderboards, but simply because you want to play Proteus.

An inspired dynamic score makes for some sublime hiking, but it’s somewhat slim and repetitive for the asking price.

The mystery of Proteus continues and the game world created there is worth a visit, despite the inability to touch it or alter it. But at the same time, the game made me want to take an actual hike in the real world; and it’s a tough sell at $10 for anyone but those who enjoy thinking about video games as art, and wandering around an intriguing place without doing anything.

While Proteus doesn't evoke a sense of lasting emotional impact, it provides a brief escape to zone out and let your senses soak in its world, whether you're following your nose in discovery or simply relaxing and watching the sunset.

Proteus' metaphor for life is a more lonely one than Journey's and I did miss the more personal note of thatgamecompany's title. Also, the static movement hinders immersion a bit, you don't really feel like you're moving an entity through this sprawling three-and-a-half-bit world. Still, this is worthwhile for one or two goes. Games like Proteus are important – if only to show us how ridiculously reliant we are on genre denominations and categories. Or, to quote the great Frank Zappa, 'without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible'.

If it were cheaper, if there were more to it, it would justify its $9.99 asking price. As it stands now, however, most people would probably be better off holding onto their money and looking elsewhere to satisfy their exploration fix.

Proteus is an experience for people who are stressed, anxious, nervous, the depressed... It's a little expensive, but the remedy works.

We are alone in a pixelated paradise, exploring a small island, in the middle of an endless sea. If you feel adventurous and don't mind the retro feeling, give it a try.