
Mr. Rohrer may be just one guy, but he has created some of the most compelling miniature art games in recent memory. Adopting vintage graphic styles, his games weave enigmatic little narratives that reflect upon the workings of the human mind. Whether they wax philosophical about the human need to create art or the way we operate within communities, Jason Rohrer’s games remain curiously addictive all the while.
Rohrer’s third game, Passage, earned him plenty of attention within art-gaming spheres. Its stylized, pixelated appearance evokes certain ‘80s titles, but the game screen restricts itself to one very narrow path. You steer your character, a blond blocky fellow, around obstacles to find treasure and win points. Objects behind you and ahead of you are accordioned into thin shadows of themselves. Early in the game, you may choose to invite a female companion to join you on your journey. I won’t betray the endng—you can get to it within five minutes of starting the game—but rest assured it’s a poignant one.
My personal favorite Rohrer title follows a similar tone to Passage in its 8-bit melancholia. Gravitation may be slightly more elusive in its meaning, but the way its metaphors subtly unfold through gameplay is marvelous. Like Passage, Gravitation operates on a point-scoring mechanism, but complicates its own method of “winning” by figuring in stakes that suggest a high score might not be worth its cost. It inspires a complex emotional response from the player despite the functional simplicity of its gameplay.
All of Rohrer’s work maintains a functional efficiency. He works entirely in two dimensions, infusing the aesthetics of decades past with clever mechanics and often deep discussions on what it means to be alive. His games fully exemplify the “less-is-more” philosophy of gaming, keeping their probing artistry cropped small.
Jason Rohrer believes strongly in open source, and lays the innards of all his games out for the public to see. His early works are all free to download, although he has started charging a small fee for later, more polished games. Game-making is his only occupation, and he relies heavily on players to provide enough income for him to support his family. Rohrer, his wife, and their two children have adopted a simple, low-budget lifestyle for philosophical reasons that are beautifully articulated on Rohrer’s website. The money from game downloads goes directly to support them as they aim to live deliberately and create art while doing so.
Perhaps more than any other developer, Jason Rohrer understands the triggers for our emotional connections to video games. While not intended as art, early Nintendo and Sega titles formed an enormous part of my generation’s childhood. Look at the number of Mario and Link tattoos that populate the skin of young people today. Something about the games and their characters hooked us into the medium permanently—and Rohrer has his finger on that something. He’s not recreating it, but molding it into a series of provocative, strange, and relevant new games. In their stark simplicity, their refusal to explain themselves plainly, they pierce past the pleasure layer that most small games are content to stimulate.
