In December 2004 Daisuke “Pixel” Amaya simply
posted a game to the Internet. It was his game, Cave Story, a labor of love he had spent the
past five years working on all by himself. This was the era when Steam only hosted
Valve games, before Nintendo consoles had online shops let alone indie directs, when
the most current Microsoft operating system was Windows XP. That is to say that independent
video game production was, though not unheard of, certainly under the radar. Cave Story changed
that for good. Perhaps due to its relatively low price of zero US dollars, it quickly gained
an audience, building enough of a cult following to produce a fan translation into English,
further increasing its accessibility. From there it received critical acclaim and gathered even
more fans, eventually leading to a new version published by an American company with updated
graphics, soundtrack, and an actual price tag. But while the history of the game is interesting,
I am more interested in Cave Story itself. What made it such a seminal work in the now
huge field of indie video games? Well, it’s beautiful. The pixel art is charming and effective
despite its simplicity. The music is incredible. The gameplay is smooth and challenging without
being unfair. Well, usually not unfair. *death noise* What tends to keep people engaged, though, is the
story. A story which is powerful and poignant, which introduces a cast of adorable, memorable
characters only 12 pixels tall, which warms your heart and then breaks it. That is what made
this 2004 freeware game stand out the most. In this video we’ll dive into Cave Story and
what makes it such a good game, the subtle yet strong statements it makes about themes such
as empathy and the nature of war, and most of all how it being a video game both deepens and
confuses those messages. Welcome to Reconstructed. *Cave Story Theme Music plays* The game starts out with a quick cutscene of
a green-haired man named Kazuma attempting to contact someone named Sue after escaping
from some unexplained terrible event. This immediately sets the stage that
something has gone very wrong prior to the events of the game before
diving right into the gameplay. Our player character, Quote (although we don’t
actually learn his name until much later), has to explore a small, claustrophobic cave
which teaches him the basic mechanics of jumping, shooting, and collecting little Doritos from
dead enemies to power up his weapon. The weapon in question being stolen from a sleeping
old man within the first couple minutes. Soon he stumbles upon the Mimiga village, populated
with adorable anthropomorphized bunny creatures. Quickly though it becomes apparent that things
are not going well in the quaint little town. They are under siege from some mysterious figure
called The Doctor who has been kidnapping and even killing them. There is internal conflict too, as
Quote witnesses an argument between the leader, King, and a young girl, Toroko, over whether
or not to protect someone named Sue despite her outsider status. Before this can be resolved,
Toroko is abducted by two servants of the Doctor, the witch Misery and the uh toaster thing
whose name is Balrog? Who mistook her for Sue. Okay, before we get any further I do have to provide
a spoiler warning. I will be covering the full story of the game, with a special interest in the
game’s multiple endings and what they represent. If that’s something you’re allergic to and you
haven’t already played the game this probably isn’t the video for you. However! I don’t think
this video will ruin the game for anyone in any sense. Games are not the kind of experience which,
in my opinion, are lessened by knowing the story beats beforehand, unlike movies or TV. Their
power comes from the playing of them, not just the knowing of them. Anyway, you’ve been warned.
Quote then proceeds to the Egg Corridor, where he finally finds Sue, unfortunately in the process of
being captured by a massive, enraged Mimiga-like creature. Her fiery personality is immediately
apparent, being willing and ready to fight the much larger monster. After Quote dispatches it,
Sue reveals she was planning to escape by way of flying dragon, and that this is not simply a cave
system but actually a massive floating island. Upon return to the village, Sue finally contacts
Kazuma, the guy from the first cutscene, but is imprisoned by King who holds her
responsible for Toroko’s kidnapping. On Sue’s request, Quote goes to Kazuma’s
location where with the help of a couple local bunnies and a tea-loving robot he rescues
both him and an old man named Professor Booster from the shelter they were trapped in. The
humans, including Sue despite her appearance, reveal that the red flowers that had been
discreetly referenced several times already are capable of turning Mimiga into horrible killing
machines, which is presumably what happened to the one in Egg Corridor, and what will happen
to poor Toroko if action is not taken quickly. Professor Booster recognizes that Quote, our
player character, is not in fact human like the rest of them but rather an armed recon robot
that had been on the island for a decade already. So he sends Quote to the Sand Zone, the location
of the red flowers, in order to destroy them, not only to prevent the death of Toroko but also
countless others in the war that would likely follow should the Doctor gain control of them.
Soon after arrival the player meets Curly, a female robot similar to Quote who has
taken to caring for a group of young Mimiga. She assumes Quote is there to harm the little
ones, but after a quick fight realizes her misunderstanding and explains that years ago the
Mimiga suffered greatly at the hands of an army of killer robots. She makes it clear that her
goal is to atone for the atrocity which both she and Quote may have participated in, although
neither can actually remember. Quote then continues to explore the Sand Zone, defeating a boss or
two on the way, eventually finding a frail old woman named Jenka who possesses the key to
the warehouse which stores the dangerous red flowers. She doesn’t trust Quote enough to give him the
key, instead sending him to find her lost puppies. By the time he returns with the last one, Balrog
has stolen the key by force. This is where the events of the game begin to go horribly awry.
Beyond this point the tragedy dials up to 11, going from a relatively simple and light story to
one that is increasingly dark and complex. Beyond this point the player is not simply jumping
around, shooting enemies, and solving simple puzzles, but also has access to important moral
choices which affect the outcome of the game and the fates of the characters they have become
attached to. Beyond this point Cave Story begins to really find its meaning. So let’s find out
what happens when Quote gets to the warehouse. Inside the building are the Doctor and his
subordinates. This is our first time seeing the Doctor himself and he is as intimidating
and sinister as one would expect. He decides to test out the potency of the red flowers,
and without any remorse instructs Balrog to feed one to the captive Toroko. Out of nowhere,
King arrives and heroically slashes down Balrog. But Toroko is disoriented, head hurting, and eyes
glowing red. King was too late. The Doctor then strikes down the warrior bunny in one shot and
tells him that without the red flowers the Mimiga were far too weak to ever stand a chance. It is
then that Quote finally arrives, far too late to change what had just transpired, instead having
to fight against the rabid version of Toroko. The sweet, compassionate little girl who was
your very first friend in the game has become a thoughtless, enraged monster. And there is no
antidote. Quote has no choice but to end her life. Normally after defeating a boss a short
fanfare plays, rewarding your achievement. After defeating rabid Toroko
there is only silence. *music stops* The fate of the Mimiga is the most heart
wrenching tragedy of Cave Story. While some of them do survive the events of the game, the ones
with specific personalities, the ones the player really gets to know, all die. And what's more
they are only involved in this conflict because they happen to live on the island rather than
any choice they actually made, unlike all the human characters. This innocence is represented by
the design decision to have them resemble bunnies. Rabbits are universally recognized as timid,
harmless animals. They have no capacity for warfare or hatred in real life, obviously, and
so the player assumes neither do the Mimiga. All of this fosters a strong sense of empathy
in the player. Being involved in the story only by circumstance, and the associations
created by their designs really emphasizes the idea that these creatures are innocent.
They are true victims of the Doctor’s actions. However, unlike some fictional groups meant
to represent innocence, the Mimiga are not monolithic. They express significant variety in
personality, mentality, and approach to their dire situation. Let’s take a closer look at three
Mimiga characters which show those distinctions and what their eventual fates communicate in the
context of the themes the story is developing. The first is someone I haven’t mentioned
up til now and a character who passed away before the game even started: Arthur.
Arthur was Toroko’s older brother, and is revered as a fallen hero by those still
alive in Mimiga Village. He was supposedly killed by the Doctor, something which is communicated
with a lot of grief by both King and Toroko. He is identified as a warrior, the strongest out
of all of them. However, what the other Mimiga are likely unaware of is the true nature of his
death. In the basement of Arthur’s abandoned house there are the remnants of some half-eaten red
flowers, implying that even he partook of them. We already know that eating the flowers is a
death sentence, so while the Doctor may have still landed the final blow, Arthur was already
doomed. He caved and consumed the evil power, and had no victory to show for it in the end.
King is the other Mimiga who chooses to fight and protect the village at all costs, but unlike
Arthur rejected the idea of the red flowers. Instead, he fights with a blade, and probably has a lot of
experience with it given his steely attitude and his scar. King's mentality is to prioritize the village’s survivors at
all costs, even if it means sacrificing Sue. After all, she wasn’t really one of them.
But for all his assumed fighting prowess and his strict survivalist approach, he too earns
nothing for it. He is killed in a single blow. Toroko, finally, chose to maintain her compassion
above all else. She refuses to turn against Sue, even though she knows it is the most logical
choice for the village. Her friends are more important to her than anything else, even
in an apocalyptic scenario. Predictably, she too meets the same end as King and Arthur.
Her kindness and lack of willingness to fight is simply taken advantage of, and she only succeeds
in delaying Sue’s own capture by a short time. Now, there are other character deaths
in Cave Story, which we’ll get to later. The difference though, is that if the player
is savvy enough the others can be saved, while there is no option available to spare the Mimiga
characters I just discussed. And this simply isn’t fair. All the others were on the island of their
own volition, people who put themselves into a position they knew could be dangerous. The Mimiga
had no such choice. What Cave Story shows us here is that the people that are most victimized by war
are often those who were forced to participate, while those truly responsible for beginning
and extending the conflict have a much better chance of survival. It doesn’t take reading many
history books to know that this reflects reality. Furthermore the fact that there is some
player agency in the outcome of the game, but not with regard to the Mimiga’s survival
communicates that by the conflict starting at all civilian casualties were unavoidable. Or maybe
more accurately by the mere existence of the red flowers Mimiga would inevitably suffer. Parallels
can be drawn with the red flowers and real-life nuclear weapons. Just by having them exist
somewhere destruction will happen sooner or later, and the ones who suffer the most are those who
are entirely innocent. That is maybe a stretch, and I think is more speculative than
supported by textual evidence. After all, feeding rabbits uranium doesn’t turn them
into mindless killing machines. I think. One last element in Cave Story’s surprisingly
chilling depiction of the brutality of war is the fact that the natural denizens of the island are
not just killed by the Doctor but also exploited for their labor. Late in the game Quote reaches
the Plantation, a large area where the Doctor has cultivated more red flowers. Farming the plants
are not the many various minions the Doctor has under his control, but rather more Mimiga, many of
them brainwashed into thinking he is helping them. As you walk by you want to scream at them to run,
hide, you’re in terrible danger. But you can’t. These bunnies have no idea
they’re aiding their own killer. And while the Mimiga are the salient example of
this exploitation, they are not the only one. Omega, the boss of the Sand Zone, is a
mechanically modified sand crocodile. Monster X, boss of the Labyrinth, is simply
a giant cat trapped in an armored tank-like contraption. Ironhead, boss of the Waterway, is a
massive fish with a mechanical helmet and visor. The lesser enemies of these areas don’t
appear to possess any of these modifications. To me this represents that the power and animosity
of these boss creatures was entirely manmade. Without their modifications they would simply
be animals. All of these elements put together produces the idea that all of the strife on the
island is a direct result of human influence. If no one had ever come to the island seeking
power, then all the natural inhabitants would be floating peacefully and safely in the sky.
Well that was a bit of a depressing section, huh? Don’t worry the game gets at least
a bit more optimistic from here on out. When putting a video game through this sort
of analysis it’s important not just to look at what simply occurs over the course of the
game, but also the actions the player must take in order to progress through it. These actions
can end up either compounding or contradicting the messages communicated by the narrative, providing
another dimension to the experience that would have been missing had it been a book or film.
When you look at the specific things Quote, and therefore the human player, must do a
trend begins to develop: a robot character learning human empathy. At least, as long as we
start after he steals the gun from the old man. In order to progress once he enters Mimiga
Village he has to retrieve a lost locket and give it to Toroko. In order to save Kazuma he
first has to find a key for the lazy Mimiga Santa, then provide the cute Chako with uh cuddles I
assume, and then lastly pull a crushed security robot from the ground even though it was initially
aggressive. That last one is the most important, as without the robot’s, whose name is Malco,
specific expertise Quote has no way to build the bomb necessary to break Kazuma out of the
shelter. The player is rewarded for taking a chance and trying to help something, even though
Malco could easily have been a dangerous enemy. Instead it turns out to be exactly the key that
was necessary for progress, and not only that it acted much more human than expected, wishing it
was able to offer Quote some tea out of gratitude. After Quote defeats rabid Toroko and
is...ah shit now I’m sad again...after he defeats Toroko and is sent to the Labyrinth
by Misery his first major task is to retrieve medicine for Curly who had been sent to the
same place but was injured in the process. By the way, what are these frog guys doing here?
They as far as I know are not explained even a little bit. Is there really a lot of business
down here? In the Labyrinth? Anyway, we are now most of the way through the game and the player
has been consistently rewarded for playing in an empathetic way, searching out methods to help
the non-player characters as best they can. Aside from the moments I just discussed, the
gameplay mostly consists of jumping and shooting and collecting drops, which doesn’t impact the
interpretation of the narrative much at all to me. Now that Cave Story has conditioned the
player to constantly look for ways to help, it’s ready to start testing them, providing
them choices which actually matter. But not before dropping another major tragedy
on the player’s head. After fighting tooth and nail to the end of the Labyrinth, the
latter half with Curly by your side, both robots defeat the Core of the island,
presumably putting an end to the Doctor’s plans. But alas Misery arrives and teleports its damaged
form away just in time and the room begins to fill with water. Quote quickly runs out of air, falling
unconscious. But in an ultimate act of compassion, Curly gives you her air tank, saving Quote but
drowning in the process. Now there is a way to save her life, but the requirements for it
are tricky and for most players this is where Curly’s story ends. For most players no matter
how hard they search for a way to save her, for a way to apply the empathy the game had
previously asked of you, there is nothing. So when Quote is confronted with a choice soon
after of whether to abandon the island or keep fighting fruitlessly against the Doctor,
it really is a difficult decision. When he returns to the Egg Corridor he finds Kazuma
ready to flee on the back of a flying dragon. He offers Quote the chance to come with him,
assuring him that the Doctor is completely unstoppable. Of course, we, the human players,
know that Quote can in fact defeat the Doctor. There has to be a final boss and the battle has to
be winnable. That’s how video games work. We know this. So for most players the decision to reject
Kazuma’s offer is easy and free of hesitation. But if you really immerse yourself in the narrative,
regardless of previous experience with games, it becomes more difficult. The game spent
hours building up your sense of helping others, then spent more crushing all your friends beneath
its thumb. All of that effort, that empathy, has so far been for nothing. It couldn’t save King
or Toroko and probably couldn’t save Curly either. Quote is, after all, a robot. Shouldn’t he choose
based on a logical assessment of the situation? Logically he should understand that no one else
can be saved and he should escape while he can. But no, of course you have to fight on. You have
to reject the easy way out and fight for even the sliver of a chance of saving everyone. And of
course it works out in the end. Quote scales the outside of the island and defeats Misery, the
Doctor, and the Undead Core once and for all. The island crumbles apart, but the surviving Mimiga
and humans live to see another day. Peace remains. These two different endings, the
Bad Ending and the Normal Ending, correlate with the personalities and perspectives
of two characters, Kazuma and Sue respectively. They also represent two different attitudes one
can have toward war and oppression. Kazuma is frankly a coward. Faced with overwhelming odds
he decides to prioritize only his own survival, leaving his colleague and even his sister to
die. By the way Kazuma and Sue are siblings. I don’t think I mentioned that earlier because
they really don’t act like it. In the Bad Ending, Quote and Kazuma do survive and live peacefully
in the mountains, but the Doctor succeeds and reigns over the surface, killing countless people
in the process. In a situation where a terrible person comes into power, cowardice allows horrible
things to happen. Kazuma’s character is ultimately summed up by one of the first things he says
in the game, that he is so hungry he would even eat a cockroach to survive. He is willing
to disgrace himself for his own survival. Sue, on the other hand, chooses to fight against
overwhelming odds. This is even how we’re introduced to her character, attempting to fight
back against a flowered-up Mimiga many times her size. Even though she expresses hatred of the
island itself and desperately wants to leave, once she understands the gravity of the situation
she stays to fight. The turning point is when King tells her Toroko was kidnapped due to their
resemblance. Once she realizes that someone was put in danger due to her, in her mind there is no
choice but to try and defeat the Doctor, even if victory seems impossible. This distinction between
Kazuma and his sister is also symbolized by their appearance. Sue is a human turned into a Mimiga
by the doctor prior to the events of the game, and perhaps it was that change which led to her
feeling morally obligated to help the bunny tribe, while Kazuma did not. However, Sue’s ending
isn’t perfect either. The Doctor was beaten, yes, but he was not the first person to use
the power of the island for evil, nor will he be the last. The game constantly emphasizes
that similar crises have happened before. As long as the Demon Crown, the ugly hat the
Doctor wears which is the source of his power, exists violence will return. As
Kazuma says in the Normal Ending, “peace remains.” Peace only remains. The
implication being just for the time being. But there is a third ending: the Good Ending. If
you pay extra close attention to the game, the player can in fact save Curly after she sacrifices
herself. The end result is that after taking down the Undead Core, Quote and Curly can progress to
the Blood-Stained Sanctuary, a hellish underworld home to Ballos, the creator of the Demon Crown and
true source of all the evil power on the island. All the eyes in the rocks in the Labyrinth and on
the Balcony were clues that there was something deeper in the island, something alive. Defeating
him results in the island no longer falling from the sky, and the true elimination of
the power the Doctor tried to wield. This is Curly’s ending. Like Sue, she developed
empathy for the Mimiga, but not only that lived with them for years and years, developing a
true understanding of the island and its people. Only she knew about the entrance to the sanctuary.
Only she knew enough to end the cycle of violence forever. This is also the only ending where
Misery and Balrog are freed from the control of the Demon Crown. They never had any agency
before, cursed to forever obey its current owner. But now they are actually free. Does this fact
redeem Balrog, who expressed zero regret or hesitation when feeding Toroko the red flower? No,
absolutely not. Fuck you Balrog, ugh. But it still means something. This shows that when it comes to
ending violence and oppressive power structures, the best approach is to understand the true source
of that evil, and attack that source directly. Only then can we put the oppression behind us.
What adds even more nuance to this ending is the nature of Ballos himself. He wasn’t originally
a bad person, and used his extraordinary magical power for the good of everyone. However, he was
tortured and corrupted by a jealous king, and that power turned against him. Jenka, who is his
older sister, tried to simply seal him away. Over time though, she aged until the point we meet her
in the game, unable to maintain her structures and letting the evil leak out. This indicates that her
approach was flawed. Allowing that much potential for violence to continue to exist was a mistake.
So we have three endings, each one representing an approach to oppression. The worst is cowardice and
inaction, represented by Kazuma. The middle ground is empathy and courage, represented by Sue. The
best is empathy and courage combined with a deep understanding of the systems that produce that
oppression, represented by Curly. Now let’s talk about how the specific requirements for getting
the good ending completely mess all of that up. So if you’ve been following my interpretation of
this game, the assumption would be that in order to get the Good Ending one has to continue to play
in an empathetic manner. It turns out the opposite is actually true, at least in one major instance.
There is a short checklist of actions the player has to take to be able to access the Blood-Stained
Sanctuary, none of which I see as particularly intuitive, and one which is very counterintuitive.
As Quote makes his way through the Labyrinth, he walks into a room and witnesses an injured
Professor Booster fall into a pit. As discussed, the game has previously rewarded you for helping
people, but in this case the “correct” decision is to simply jump over that pit and proceed as if
you saw nothing. If you go down to attempt to help the old man, a character that has been entirely
friendly and helpful and generally unproblematic, he dies. And for some reason the Good Ending is now unachievable. To add to the confusion, the jump
over the pit is actually pretty challenging. I made it on the first try because I’m a god
gamer, but it’s really easy to get caught on the edge of this block and fail the good ending
due only to a platforming test. Of course you can always savescum which I honestly see
nothing wrong with, but this whole situation is weird at best. And lastly, if you don’t talk to
him in the Labyrinth he actually survives. The dude just shows up in the village later to give
you the booster, looking good as new. It doesn’t make any sense logically, and more importantly
it doesn’t make any sense thematically. Why in a game that largely rewards you for helping others
are you in this one case hard-punished for it? The other boxes to check aren’t quite as
inscrutable, but are still very easy to miss even if the player is paying close attention. If
you skipped talking to the professor, then in the room you fight the Core you can find a tow rope
twinkling in the lower corner. If you pick this up Quote can rescue Curly after she appears to drown.
But there is nothing to indicate to the player that they should even be looking for an item
right then. It’s incredibly obscure for such an important story event. Beyond that, the player has
to dry Curly out in a small cabin in the Waterway, another thing that was never told to the player,
feed her a mushroom to restore her memory which is another thematic inconsistency as the mushroom
is very much alive and doesn’t want to be eaten, and then finally talk to her multiple times to
receive a special item. Only after all these bizarre choices does Quote have the ability to
access the Blood-Stained Sanctuary and prevent the cycle of violence from renewing in the future.
Now if I was someone else I could just say this was a poor writing choice, that in wanting there
to a difficult secret ending the creator messed up the message he had built with the rest of the
narrative. And that may be true. But I think something interesting happens when you look at
what this aspect of the game communicates when examined in concert with what the split endings
represent. It shows why humans cannot achieve the systemic change necessary for
ending violence and oppression for good. Quote, again, is a robot. He is not human, unlike
other characters in the game. And while he is a silent protagonist without much of
a personality, he does have a subtle character arc of becoming more humanlike. This growth
is illustrated by Misery referring to him as a robot as he fights the Core, but recognizing
his humanity before the final battle. Curly is also a robot, but she on the other hand
is brimming with personality, showing just how far these non-human characters can come in
terms of developing human characteristics. And their robotic nature serves an important logical purpose within the game. The Doctor has no power over them. While
he can transform the Mimiga, the humans, and even Misery (who may or may not be
human) into monsters at the drop of a hat, he cannot do that to Quote. No human then could
have done what Quote accomplished. In fact, the game frequently reminds us that “humans
are terrible creatures.” This alone may show difficult it is for people to produce
systemic change because of how susceptible they are to the oppressive structures
they have to fight. But it goes deeper. When it comes to actually performing the good
ending, it is extremely difficult to borderline impossible without externally obtained knowledge
of the game. Without the blueprint provided by the game’s wiki or wherever else, virtually no one
would achieve it. Additionally, it’s highly likely that the player will have to reload saves
at some point to keep their good ending run going, either from missing the jump over Professor
Booster or the tight platforming to make it into the Waterway Cabin. Obviously there is no analog
for either of those mechanics if you apply them to real life. There are no do-overs
and there is no perfect blueprint you can access that will guarantee your success.
Even if you do everything the “right” way, you still may fail to produce meaningful change
through no fault of your own. Just like how playing Cave Story the “right” way would lead
most players to attempt to save Professor Booster. Quote and Curly are only able to achieve
their perfect ending because they are robots, because they are video game characters. Real human
beings simply cannot accomplish what they did. At first glance Cave Story is an unassuming game.
Created sixteen years ago by an inexperienced indie developer, no one would have expected it
to have much depth or complexity. But hiding behind the simplistic art style is an incredible
auteur game that has legitimate literary merit. It presents a fascinating argument for the
importance of empathy and courage, aided well by the way the player has to interact with their
environment. It paints a somber picture of the horrors of war, and the specific effects it has on
its victims. It shows several ways in which people can respond to that oppression and what results, the best of which is to confront the very source of the violence. But then it complicates
its own message by demonstrating why that’s nearly impossible to achieve. And hey, I didn’t even
talk much about the gameplay itself! Analyzing the ludic aspects of game design isn’t my forte, but I really should say that Cave Story is just fun as
hell. The combat is really neat, the level design is super creative and enjoyable. I especially
like the mechanic of upgrading your weapons, but with the constant risk of losing
those upgrades if you play unsafely. All in all, the purpose of the video was to show
you why I think Cave Story is so special and why it’s seen as such an important and influential
game to this day. Everyone owes it to themself to play it. Even if I spoiled you a bit with this
I almost guarantee you’ll have a good time, and that there's lots of content in the game I didn't touch on at all. The upgraded version is only 15 bucks on Steam, or you
can play the original version which is pretty much exactly as good and is still available for free,
which is just so cool. For people that are already familiar with the game, what did you think of
my interpretation of Cave Story? Is it accurate? Is there something I missed which contradicts my
thesis? Are there any aspects of the game I didn’t talk about that you see as thematically relevant?
For example I couldn’t make much sense of Misery and Balrog's characters in the context of the messaging, and
I mostly skipped over the Plantation section of the game including the characters of Momorin and
Itoh. The best way to analyze media is to treat it like a conversation, and I’m really looking
forward to seeing other people’s viewpoints. What is certain, if nothing else, is that
Cave Story is a video game that deserves to be played and talked about and replayed
and re-talked about for a long, long time. Hey, if you enjoyed this video and are interested
in seeing more stuff from me, please give it a like and hit that subscribe button. I work
really hard on these and I appreciate any and all support. Also, sharing on Reddit and Twitter is
crazy helpful as it’s really hard to get eyes on my work at my current size. I also have a Patreon
now! If you have the means to financially support the channel that would mean the world to me. My
first goal is to get to 50 dollars a month, as that would simply guarantee that I’m not actively
losing money by creating these which would feel amazing. I’m going to continue with a mix of the
more fun and lighthearted speedrunning videos I’ve made prior to this and the more serious media
analysis videos like what you just watched. Once again, thank you so much for watching. I’ve
been Skyehoppers and I’ll see ya in the next one.
Hi! I just published a video essay on one of my favorite games of all time, Cave Story (duh). I try to dive into the themes of the game and how the gameplay and the choices the player can make interact with them. The game really has a lot of depth to it and even though the video's 30 minutes long I didn't talk about everything I wanted to.
I'm really curious to hear what other fans of the game think of my work. It took a lot of time and effort and thought to create. Let me know what you think :)
I honestly never thought about the game like that, I’m not one to look super deep into character development, and seeing how you described these characters really has made me realize how much more genius Cave Story’s design is.
I was devastated on my first playthrough when at the end it shows all the parts of the island shaking and it goes to the core area and she's just still there. I always thought she'd come smashing thru a wall or something at the last second...