On “Immersion”
“Immersion” has become a buzzword in the video game industry over the last few years. If not through marketing material, it’s often used in reviews, journalism, and the like. Unlike other overused identifiers or elements, such as “open world,” “RPG,” “choices matter,” or “roguelike(lite)s,” “immersion” isn’t bound to static rules and has a different meaning for everyone. What are the video games that have truly immersed you? Which have turned the hours into minutes?
It’s almost impossible to pinpoint specific mechanics that lead to immersion when the rules aren’t even consistent within one individual. For example, mission-based games, where you are taken to a menu and have to hit some form of “start” between gameplay, create an inertia that takes me out of the moment and is more likely to have me put down the controller. Yet, games like Hardspace Shipbreaker or Armored Core manage to carry their milieu through menu screens, keeping me engaged.
Immersion is a commitment to a setting. Visually, it can boast top-of-the-industry graphics or pixels and sprites. It can take the form of a point-and-click adventure or a massive RPG. The theme can range from serious to goofy. No matter the vision, immersion must allow the player to roleplay or self-insert within the world. There are many different genres and settings I’ve found myself immersed in:
A pixelated farmer and loner who hangs out with my fellow weirdos: Dwarf, Krobus, Wizard, and Clint (Stardew Valley, farming sim).
A benevolent lamb who leads (read: sacrifices) a hive (read: cult) of worker bees in return for eternal gratitude (Cult of the Lamb, roguelite/colony sim).
A futuristic blue-collar junkyard scrapper trying to pay off a small loan of 1.25 billion dollars (Hardspace Shipbreaker, work sim/dad game).
A militaristic super citizen, defending the people of Super Earth and beyond, spreading democracy to those who haven’t asked for it (Helldivers 2, co-op horde shooter).
A mute with a lot of glue and a knack for engineering (Tears of the Kingdom, Zelda game).
The guiding hand of a 2D colony of leg-stealers and organ-harvesters (Rimworld, story-telling colony sim).
A cyber-ninja-wizard, hacking and slashing and hacking my way to legendary status (Cyberpunk 2077, open-world RPG).
Despite the breadth of genres, the throughline between these games is how consistent they are to their theme no matter how silly it may be. This can be done by giving players agency and free will, honing in on a specific sense of humor, world-building, etc. The more a player understands who they would be in that world, or what persona to don, the more immersive the game becomes.
To others, immersion may take the form of realism. AAA graphics, story-driven narrative, an open-world setting, etc. Red Dead Redemption 2 is a game that so many people have described as immersive (to the point that it’s the first time I took specific note of the word) but is completely lost on me. Hackneyed animal-skinning animation jabs aside, I feel that the protagonist, Arthur, moves like a tank with too high a center of gravity. I find it annoying having to square up perfectly perpendicular to a medicine cabinet to interact with it. I think the gunplay is on par with Fallout 3 with a less-fun bullet time/VATS system to compensate. I don’t particularly care that NPCs have a schedule. I can’t deny how prestigious the game is, but even some as well-made and renowned for “immersion” as Red Dead will still miss that mark with some of its audience.
Immersion isn’t a requirement for a game to be good, however. I can still enjoy the story of Red Dead Redemption 2 while finding the gameplay tedious. Conversely, I can’t honestly say I have ever been immersed in my most-played game of all time, Rocket League. Immersion should not be a marketing keyword but rather a feeling left to individuals to find for themselves. As a player, learning and understanding what makes me sink into a game and its world has helped me hone in on the types of games I enjoy most, while also nudging me toward great games I might have otherwise disregarded due to genre.