Schim and his little shadow theater
The shadow is so much a part of us that we end up forgetting about it. A key element in Professor Layton’s most devious puzzles; the personification of the spirit of childhood in Peter Pan’s living shadow; the source of numerous colloquial expressions… Shadows have become as visible as they are invisible, an element we miss when they’re not where they’re supposed to be. As cozy-puzzlegames flourish and enrich our game libraries, a whole host of offbeat gameplay principles are being introduced. In Donut County, you play a hole… In Phogs! you’re a dog with a head on each end… You can even play a slice of sliced bread in I am bread!
And what if, this time, you were to step out of the shadows (literally) by embodying one?
Editor’s note: A key to the game was sent to us by the publisher. It was made on PC. The game has been translated into French and is currently available on PC, Xbox, PlayStation and Switch.
Shadow? Soul? Piece of us?
Here comes Schim. Available on all platforms, the game, developed by Ewoud van der Werf and Nils Slijkerman, lets us embody an absolutely adorable little shadow. After becoming detached from her owner, she has gained her independence! Now she’s obliged to explore, to find her human, and to continue her journey with him. But is she really a shadow? Is there more to it than that?
The game’s descriptions shed a little more light. A Schim is the spirit, the soul of an object or a human. Everything has one. And normally, the two are so closely linked that there should be no break between this association. “Should not.” For some would argue that it takes a disruptive element, a point of origin, a dissonance in the routine for the gameplay and the player to slip into the interstice and start interfering.
That’s what’s happening here. A shadow breaks away and becomes independent. It’s up to you to lead it back to the right place, close to its human, through a succession of levels that are as many everyday situations. Schim is presented as a cozy game, a gentle, benevolent puzzle game that plays on the winks in the environment and on a narrative that takes a back seat to the gameplay, favouring the game experience over the plot. In many ways, Schim is right in line with the ‘wholesome games’ coming to consoles…
A bit of coziness in my game
According to Wikipedia, a cozy game is ‘a genre of video game that emphasises non-violence and relaxation’. It’s a trend that’s growing and developing, giving rise to Wholesome Game Direct, a show showcasing upcoming cozy and wholesome games. Although the genre was born of life simulations such as Animal Crossing and Story of Seasons, cozy games are rapidly expanding, developing in their own right and taking over other genres, adding their own sometimes adorable, sometimes benevolent touch. A short hike is an adventure game. Lil Gator uses RPG codes to take his little alligator on a cardboard adventure full of surprises. Broken Lens is a puzzle game, a game of seven errors as seen through the eyes of a little robot.
Don’t be fooled by the fact that its benevolence and coziness don’t prevent it from tackling heavy or mature themes. Presented at the Wholesome Game Direct 2024, Pine: A Story of Loss plunges us into the daily life of a lumberjack trying to come to terms with the loss of his wife. From what we know of the game (due for release shortly at the time of writing), it’s a silent narrative, a game between memories and daily tasks, about a man trying to rebuild his life. For its part, Crab God is an ecological management game, highlighting the problems associated with preserving the environment through a gameplay that mixes god games and management games. The Star Named EOS, SpiritFarer, Open Roads… Wholesome games have played a major role in all genres, sometimes serving as a pretext for telling a different story, or simply tackling delicate themes.
Interestingly, the Wholesome game community was launched in 2019, on Twitter. Developer Matthew Taylor began ‘ranking’ games according to the feelings of comfort, compassion and warmth, they exuded (https://wholesomegames.com/#faq ). The phenomenon quickly gained momentum, demonstrating a real demand for these benevolent, soft and cozy games. The community is focusing as much on innovative gameplay as on compelling storytelling.
Schim is part of this trend, part of this desire to present a game that is both rich and caring, cosy and where everyone can feel at ease while exploring its themes. Through its mechanics, levels and puzzles, you can grasp the stories of each character, perhaps seeing different elements, getting closer to them or understanding them, all thanks to a silent narrative that leaves plenty of room for interpretation…
Quiet! Not a word!
Silent narration is, by its very nature, particularly delicate and technical. Whether in video games, comic strips, films or short films, silent narration leaves a lot of room for interpretation and it’s easy to transform the original message. As a general rule, silent narration has a number of advantages: it lets viewers choose to see what they want to see, and it is also potentially accessible to younger audiences. The different levels of reading of this type of work are all the more numerous because everyone can see what they want. If we take the example of Unpacking (Witch Beam, 2021), not everyone will see in the same way the fact of storing one’s own diploma under the bed in a room where the presence of one’s companion is very much in evidence.
These small story elements, whether particularly visible or not, give the narrative scope. They allow us to project ourselves, to form an idea of what’s going on, often based on our own experiences. They are the catalyst, the reflection, the projection of our stories, allowing us to become even more involved in the proposed narrative experience. Sometimes it takes a while to grasp the significance of these plot elements. Sometimes they jump out at us with force. In all cases, they make us think, intrigue us, and make us want to continue exploring the proposed universe.
For Unpacking, it’s the placement mechanic that allows you to project yourself. When the game tells you that certain items you’ve been carrying around since childhood have only one place, at the back of a cupboard, it breaks your heart. By tidying up, you discover your character’s freedom, her constraints and the ones she has to put up with, which are not at all normal. The mood is upbeat, but there are some jarring elements. Inside, on the other hand, plunges us into a dark, very black and cruel world. There’s no text to help you understand the situation. Just the more or less rapid cadence of your character, the chilling animations of the background, the scrolling environment, always to the right, forcing you forward again and again without looking back. Rather like Limbo, the two games let your imagination run wild, but for the worse this time, because the visual elements you can rely on are more in the register of horror, of the worst dystopia, even reminiscent, for Inside, of the worst pages of George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
As you might expect, each silent title has its own unique atmosphere and gameplay experience. Journey plays on blind cooperation, putting you in the path of other players without you being aware of whether it’s one or several people you meet along the way. This also introduces new communication mechanics, through jumping, character movements and singing. It’s a different way of communicating and, above all, of listening, since no words are exchanged here, but the aim is the same: to encourage understanding and mutual aid, and to overcome a potential language barrier.
The silent videogame experience is both universal and unique: universal because it can be understood by everyone; unique because each individual plays in their own way and, above all, understands and projects themselves according to their own experience. This makes it an experience that is both plural and singular, in all the richness that video games can bring.
Not a shadow in sight?
Back to Schim…
The game’s introduction, and its first half-hour, suggest a particularly intense storyline. The game opens with a child playing at jumping from shadow to shadow. A universal game that you too must have played. That and not stepping on the lines on the ground. Don’t you think?
This call to childhood brings a smile to our faces and also allows us to discover, in the boy’s shadow, the little creature we’re going to control. Two white eyes on a black background, which are not at all frightening but rather adorable, in keeping with the minimalist but soothing artistic direction. This feeling of gentleness comes first and foremost from the pastel colors used to structure the space: a cameo per level, in shades of beige, soft oranges, pale blues and so on. The whole thing is underlined by a very drawn look to the environment: a simple black line (and not an intense black, but rather a dark grey) outlines the building, the car and the other elements of the set. Only the shadows are big and deep.
The first surprise comes from this child. As he crouches on the ground, in the so-called frog position, the first controls appear on the screen. ‘Jump. And while it might have seemed logical that it should be the child who jumps when he presses the button… it’s his shadow that escapes and jumps into the shadow of the car nearby. It’s a clever way of showing us that the real character in this story is the adorable creature made of darkness and not the child, who is also in the same graphic style as the environment. It’s also an opportunity to realise that it’s not all about leaping from shadow to shadow and just finding the path predefined by the developers. Once you’re in the car’s shadow, you can… make it honk! The interaction starts to happen, and you begin to grasp the implications of moving from shadow to shadow. What else can you do?
Driven by the curiosity offered by this unexpected interaction, you decide to explore. Many questions arise and we are in a silent game. Experience and curiosity will be your allies on this journey. How far can you distance yourself from the child? What does the red line between you and him represent? What other things can I do, in the shadow of this tree, this dustbin… and these humans? You’ll also soon discover that the environment is indeed in 3D, despite the sketchy art direction. Turn around your schim and find the new paths you can explore. There’s still the red thread that links you to the child. But what if…
OK. Your attempts are so far unsuccessful, but you soon notice that you can indeed control the child when you are in the receptacle left empty by your absence. Become its shadow again and let’s continue our exploration, shall we?
Schim‘s world is revealed in small ways in what might be called his prologue. In the school playground, you notice that the other children also have a little creature hopping around in their shadows. Something the adults don’t seem to have, unless they’re standing more quietly. The colors change, the child grows, and you can interact with more elements in your immediate surroundings.
The first half-hour of the game plunges you into a world where you evolve with your character, where the ages of life follow one another and are not alike. Every time we move from one zone to another, we take a leap back in time, playing with colors and our perception of life: growing up, meeting people, parting ways with them too. The shots follow one another and it’s almost as if we’re watching the passage of time, which takes on an almost palpable dimension through the evolution of the young boy into a man, sometimes even in the same scene.
The ups and downs of everyday life, the loss of a bike, the rain, the crystallisation of moments through the passage of shadows (and, in a way, the passage of time) are all played out fluidly, and the first half-hour of gameplay is particularly intense. And then you’re thrown into the deep end. The storyline fades into the background, giving way to puzzles and environments to be traversed by the shadows and the interactions you can have with the various elements. While the rest of the game loses some of its deep narrative dimension, the gameplay expands without letting on. Yes, it’s still a case of jumping from shadow to shadow, but the possibilities offered by the different objects make you see the level as a veritable machinery of chain reactions.
Of course, many things will change as you progress through the different environments. You’ll have to work with the camera to literally shoot the puzzles from every angle. Likewise, the weather, the night, the rain and everything else can change your surroundings and put you to the test. Fly over the world in the shadow of a bird? Control a human? Propel yourself with a sign to jump further? Lots of things are possible, and it’s up to you to experiment. All we can tell you is that your schim doesn’t survive long outside the shadows: one leap at most, and even then you have to be quick. Otherwise it’s back to the shadows you left before… So it’s up to you to make your way through this world, which can quickly be seen only in negative, distorted shadows…
Settle in and enjoy
Like other cosy games, Schim takes the approach of immersing us in a relatively untouched world, one that’s easy to project yourself into. We are touched by the life of this boy who is growing up before our very eyes, and we marvel at the possibilities offered by our little shadow, who is definitely too cute. The first half-hour lays the foundations and includes us in a universal and silent story, touching and in which we quickly end up caring only about our own curiosity and our desire for discovery. It’s this curiosity that creates wonder, discovery and the occasional absurd ‘what if’ that the developers have probably thought of.
The game makes us rediscover our childlike spirit, immersing us in a world of pastel shades and living shadows. A small theatre of shadows that moves in front of us, that we accompany in its wanderings and that totally embraces us in its discoveries!
