Flower
Only in a medium like videogames, so distinctly oriented toward violence, could a project as simple as Flower seem like a grand statement. Players guide a single petal on gusts of wind through the dreams of potted flora, drawing a skeletal portrait of tension between the pastoral and urban. The brushstrokes are simple, almost impressionistic: great plains and rolling hills carpeted with windswept grass. Canyons snaked through with crumbling electrical towers. A grimy city swept clean by a potpourri breeze.
The petal flies through this series of landscapes, awakening other flowers and gathering a whirling trail of petals swirling like a ribbon on the wind. Throughout, you create every motion by tilting the PS3 controller. Sony has attempted that trick a few times before, but never with the intuitive, responsive results seen here.
The first “dream” begins on a blighted plain. Blowing your solitary petal into other dormant flowers wakes them from slumber. Awakening clusters and patterns of plants causes a section of the landscape to ignite into colorful life. (Synergy: Flower is like a mini-game describing Prince Of Persia’s cleansing of fertile grounds.) Each impact with another flower sounds a note; plucked strings and strummed chords create a dynamic score. (Call that a game-design pun; still, there’s no high score to achieve.)