In philosophy there are several thought experiments to test how you might respond to complex moral conundrums. Perhaps the most famous of these is the trolley problem – if forced to choose, would you choose to sacrifice one life to save many? This initial question seems simple at first glance, but once more information is layered in (the single person is a doctor who might find the cure for cancer, the many are convicted criminals etc.) we find that our decision can change. Threshold feels like a gaming equivalent of this kind of thought experiment, and its atmosphere and moral ambiguity has stayed with me since I finished it the first of several times.
Threshold is the brainchild of solo developer, Julien Eveillé, and is the latest in a series of fantastic indie games published by Critical Reflex, hot on the heels of the viral Mouthwashing. Threshold more than holds its own in such lauded company and is one of the most thought provoking and troubling games I’ve played this year.
The game starts with you seeming to be buried and put in the position of choosing a new name – the catch being that you only have two letters to fill. This small detail immediately prevents you from fully identifying with the character you will play as (unless you happen to have a particularly short name or nickname, I guess). To further the sense of defamiliarisation there is not just a simple difficulty select option available here either. You can choose between focused and distracted modes which make environmental clues harder or easier to spot, but the actual difficulty is set by choosing a country’s flag. There is no indication as to the effect of this choice and I look forward to the inevitable long form video essays delving into the various effects.
Once you start the game proper you are given a very basic overview of your duties in your new job. There is a mysterious train forever moving forward across the threshold station you control, entering a tunnel through an intimidating concrete wall. To ensure the train’s safe passage, you must blow a whistle through a foghorn style amplifier to speed it up when it slows down. You’re not told what the train is carrying or why it must maintain a certain speed, just that it is your job to control it. The moral quandary starts to unravel as you discover clues and notes that suggest that all is not quite what it seems.
Graphically, Threshold makes effective use of the lo-fi PS1 style that is increasingly popular at the moment. The sharp edges and blocky polygons help to give everything an uncanny feel, and the drab palette perfectly suits the mood of daily drudgery. The piercing alarm that sounds when the train is not at its optimal speed is the most pressing reminder of your duties, an alarm that is made even more effective by the relative silence of the game. The background rumble of the train is your main companion, as even your co-worker relays information purely through written notes.
The in-game reasoning for the lack of voice acting is an ingenious part of the world building. The station you are manning is high up and therefore the oxygen levels are very low. This lack of oxygen becomes a key mechanic as simply moving around the map leaves you breathless, and blowing the all important whistle takes a lot of oxygen each time. To combat your breathlessness you must collect and use oxygen canisters, but even this aspect only serves to deepen the feeling of dread and despair.
Rather than conventional gas canisters, the oxygen you collect comes in the form of gas tubes that you must bite into in order to release the air within. The effects of this mechanic are reflected in the constant graphic of your mouth on screen, a mouth that becomes increasingly bloodied and disfigured as you use more air. This perpetual reminder of the ill effects of your job is open to all sorts of interpretation about the alienating process of capitalist systems, and/or just a cool bit of body horror.
Saying much more about the way the game develops is especially difficult as it is an experience that really needs you to go in as uninformed as possible. Any further discussion of mechanics or plot developments risks spoiling the game, an issue perhaps exacerbated by the relatively short time it takes to play it through. If you explore thoroughly and look for as many clues as you can then it’ll take you about 90 minutes for a playthrough, and there are several different endings to unlock. A short run time is always a risky choice given the way the refund system on Steam works, but I would urge you to try out different approaches to get the full effect of the game’s complex meditation on choice and consequences.