I think if you’ve been around for long enough, you’ll know I love video games. Not just because they’re fun, but because they have something to say.
It’s been a little over a year since I entered my old-game renaissance. Since hacking my 3DS in January 2024, I’ve played games like:
Golden Sun 1+2
Pokemon Emerald
Advance Wars
Out of everything I’ve played during this era, nothing has had more to say than the 2001 railshooter REZ.
A Dying Console and A Dream Cast
Rez was produced by Sega and released for the Sega Dreamcast and the PlayStation 2 in 2002. While this game was released on the PlayStation 2, it drips with Dreamcast vibes. That’s because it was meant to be a Dreamcast exclusive, but they had to release it on other consoles due to the console’s failure.
Despite all of this, Rez found a cult following and would go on to inspire an entire genre of games.
I say this only because the Dreamcast is such a weird little console with so many strange games. I think the Dreamcast of it all shines through and even decades later, makes it an unforgettable experience.
Abstract, Yet Emotionally Clear
Rez opens with a quick scene of a polygonal woman in distress being covered, or hidden, by a wall of some kind, and a wireframe person being scanned in. It’s an opaque depiction of an AI model feeling distressed due to information overload and shutting down. She’s hiding to protect herself, and you’re tasked with hacking in and saving her.
You probably wouldn’t be able to pick up on this without reading the back of the box or the game’s manual, but I do think you could pick up on it once the game is complete.
You just need to get there.
Flying Through the Grid
I grew up a fan of Tron.
Before the release of Tron: Infinite, my friends and I joined the ARG and got immersed in the world before seeing it opening day. The grid was a place I wished existed, and I loved the idea of a world of people living within a computer.
Rez is evocative of this, but with more tech and less flesh.
You play as, what I can only describe as, a wireframe man, or at least you start as that. There are different levels the player character can turn into by collecting support items. It ranges from a ball to a metallic person, to a 2001 Space Odyssey baby.
This game is a rail shooter, so there are no movement controls. You can only move your reticle around to shoot enemies and incoming projectiles. Unlike other games like this, you hold down the shooting button to lock on to multiple enemies and then release it to shoot.
Your player character flies automatically through psychedelic digital landscapes while enemies try to stop your progression. They launch rockets and erect walls to stop you from getting deeper into the system.
The visuals and the controls both effectively produce a feeling of flying and floating. It’s very zen-like.
The Music
I can’t believe I haven’t even mentioned the music yet. It is central to the game’s atmosphere and gameplay.
Each level has a track written by a talented DJ. The game even highlights each artist in the level selection screen.
Each song is a solid banger, and the environment and flow of the levels match the songs perfectly. Once a flow state is reached, the game ends up feeling like a rhythm game. It’s not one of precision but of vibes.
Themes
Spoilers Ahead, Proceed with Caution
It’s incredible that this game is able to make people feel things.
As the game progresses, it gets significantly more difficult. I tried level 3, maybe 4 times, before finally nailing it, and when I finally cleared level 4 (the final level), I was relieved that I had done it. I had completed the challenge and seen it through. Time to watch a cutscene.
but
there was 1 more level that unlocked, and it was called Fear.
When I saw the title of the final level, I got scared. I was almost ready to close myself off from the game and try again in a couple of weeks, but I pushed through that fear and tried it anyway.
The final level is immediately much different than the other levels. Where there was a dark and neon-like landscape, there was now a bright and almost natural-looking environment.
Even the structure is different. The level is broken up by these vague sayings about evolution and the be and flow of life on earth. While this is happening, you get higher and higher into the sky until you’re flying over the earth.
And then you turn into a baby.
This is where things get wild.
You float into a room, and letters come together to spell
“Who are you?”
This was a surprise to me. I did not expect any kind of dialogue. This moment changed the tone of the game from a fun jaunt to an introspective moment. I craned my neck closer to the screen and locked in.
This final moment is a boss rush. You play through variations of the bosses from each level, and before each fight, there’s a new dialogue:
"Don't come any closer!" "Why?" "Aren't you afraid?"
I was afraid. I had gotten so far and all I wanted to do was make it to the other side.
All I wanted was for someone to…
"Save me....."
What I was feeling was the final dialogue from the distressed AI. I felt empathetic for her and felt compelled to get her out.
The Final Fight
You enter the chamber the AI is in, but she’s broken up. Pieces of her float in the middle of the room as enemies fly around trying to stop you. During this moment, my heart was racing to the music. I was completely locked in.
Missiles are flying all over the place, and I fly in close enough to hit the pillars that are keeping her trapped.
Everything stops, and the AI’s head is rebuilt.
The flow of this battle continues in this matter. You do enough damage to the baddies, and then a part of the AI is rebuilt - until she’s whole.
Sunrises flash on the screen as she is rebuilt. These moments are beautiful to me and perfectly communicate the game’s theme:
“Don't kill yourself, you idiot”
Porter Robinson
The AI is distressed by fear and how horrible the world is. But she’s missing the field for the flowers. There’s a reason to live.