Once upon a time, there were graphic adventures.

I know, they still exist now, but between yesterday and today, they've died and been reborn, and we are interested in the period before their demise: not the golden era in VGA and SVGA post-text adventures, let's say the period marked by the sunset imposed by the market, halfway between SVGA graphics and polygonal 3D, where FMV (Full Motion Video) adventures are located. In short, these are positioned in the mid-'90s.

Thanks to the mass diffusion of the CDROM, suddenly programmers found themselves with immense spaces to fill; practically the exact opposite of what they were doing before when every single byte had to be exploited to the bone and the watchword was efficiency. Regardless of the peripheral, it's no secret that the first CD titles were often half-empty, or gaudy heaps of digitized videos. Certainly, it's evident how this FMV "cancer" essentially concerned titles focused on action, while those who dealt with slow and reflective titles, such as graphic adventures, could only rejoice at the possibility of making everything much more cinematic than was previously possible.

In particular, the horror genre lent itself very well to a forced marriage with photo-realistic graphics, capable of offering an involvement that was then impossible for sprites or a still-maturing 3D. After a brief moment of first-person adventures (7th Guest, The 11th Hour, just to name two famous horror titles), the most talented game designers decided it was time to digitize everything, characters, animations, and perhaps even some film sets... the idea was to put the player practically in command of the film, integrating the videos but removing their leading role that they previously had. The two most ambitious (and expensive) projects that took off were Phantasmagoria, a colossal Sierra project by Roberta Williams (the mind behind King's Quest and many adventures), and indeed Harvester, designed by developer Gilbert P. Austin, already the author of Wing Commander.

Harvester placed the player at the center of a (not so) smiling American town, populated by characters straight out of a David Lynch film; bizarre, grotesque, shady, and often decidedly dangerous. At the center of it all, the gigantic building of an unsettling Masonic lodge, gradually extending its dominance among community members. The initial feeling of alienation felt and fueled by the same script consolidated as one got to know the lunatic relatives and the "friendly" neighbors. The freedom of action was incredibly wide, and the plot itself enjoyed remarkable flexibility. The fact that this translated into calm and discreet rather than absurd and incredibly violent situations was, at least initially, left to the player's discretion. The committed crimes could often be carried out in various ways, the death of one person rather than another led to different consequences, seeing or finding certain things and exploiting them to our advantage could influence the unfolding and variety of means available to make our way in this surreal world. Also because it became clear that on this journey, the player was alone; there were at most one or two credible people to meet, the rest of the town boasted an impressive number of maniacs (sexual and otherwise), monsters (in every sense), murderers, and arsonists. All nice people with whom to engage in delirious conversations, full of a unique kind of eccentric humor, giving the game a cult status undoubtedly well-deserved.

I say cult because it was certainly not a blockbuster. Scheduled for 1995, the game suffered many delays for various reasons, mainly related to the controversies aroused by the extreme level of violence; it was banned in Germany and never distributed in Australia, censored in the United Kingdom (some FMVs with scenes of cannibalism were removed), but incredibly received an M (Mature) rating in the USA, rather than an AO (Adults Only), stuff usually reserved for pornography. Fortunately, because in addition to being one of the rawest and most violent titles ever, the game made extensive use of adult themes regarding sex, masturbation, voyeurism, prostitution, and contained several offensive stereotypes about homosexuals, Native Americans, and even Italians. In short, everything needed to anticipate the lawsuits so fashionable in the 2000s. It ended up being released in 1996, after the success of Phantasmagoria had effectively put an end to the genre itself, dividing critics and without making a tenth of the sales of the Sierra title.

The positive criticisms fully grasped the fact that the plot and freedom were the focal points of the game, some praised the fact that finally someone thought of reproducing the Lynchian emotions. The negative criticisms focused on the total lack of promised and never introduced novelties (except for the bland combat system), branding the game as a classic point and click, with graphics born old, supported by a perverse plot, deeply violent and amoral. In short, they didn't enjoy playing serial killers. Other criticisms were directed at the over-the-top acting and the bizarre and unreal behavior of the characters, but these last ones suggest that the same critics did not grasp the black and eccentric humor infused in the game at all.

No matter from which side you look at it, Harvester is one of the only representatives of a dead and buried genre, rich in satire and other offensive content, unsuitable for the faint-hearted, but capable of exerting significant charm due to its extravagance and total lack of restraint.

Loading comments  slowly