As I struggled to make it through God of War: Ragnarok’s overblown epic, a murderous sense of discomfort swept over me. Is this really the best that modern gaming has to offer? While hundreds of talented creators poured their hearts and souls into this blockbuster behemoth, the result is admirable rather than spectacular: a commendable creative achievement, sure, but not exciting.thank you christ for Seasons: A Letter to the Future.
Equipped with a bike, your trusty Polaroid camera, a pencil, and a very important scrapbook, this PlayStation exclusive reimagines the end of the world as a winding road trip. Join our unnamed protagonist in the peaceful mountain village of Caro, and you’ll discover an overgrown world plagued by a dreadful disease. Plagued by a disease that forces humans into a never-ending sleep, Earth now grows a crystalline flora that slowly erases humanity’s memory. Then, under the protection of the Memory Pendant, it’s up to you to record the vestiges of this era, before the season (and those associated with it) disappear into the quicksands of time.
Leaving her village with little knowledge of the outside world, the player’s wide-eyed journey matches that of our sheltered protagonist. As I marveled at the watercolor-like landscape, our unnamed heroine did the same — recounting our shared experiences while I snapped some mundane photos. Half Pokemon Snap, half Attenborough sim, roaming this mystical land as a cycling-loving historian makes me feel a bit like Charles Darwin, except I’m rendered in full 4K and riding a beautiful bike .
As you might expect, it’s all surprisingly peaceful. Despite the looming threat of destruction, it’s a journey so immersive in its surroundings that it’s refreshingly free of urgency. As you ride from place to place across this post-apocalyptic divide, yes, a soothing score indicates that your solitary journey is underway. With no idea of where to go, no friends to guide, zero hints of what to see next, every discovery feels like a novelty.
In a medium full of thrilling action and instant endorphins, being a virtual biographer might not sound like the most exciting way to fill your spare time. Still, I quickly found myself fully invested in my odd little persona, drawn in by the promise of uncovering more forgotten secrets for my increasingly cluttered scrapbook.
Seriously – you won’t fully believe how alluring this beautiful scrapbook is. Forget Assassin’s Creed Parkour, Grappling Hook or Bayonetta’s Witch Time, carefully selected photos, drawings, notes and stickers, or every location in my book, is secretly one of the most engaging game mechanics I’ve ever come across one.
A big reason is that players can structure this journey however they see fit. With so little demand on what to include on each page, everyone gets a very different scrapbook offering their own unique take on their travels. I spend a lot of time discussing what ideas will have the greatest impact. Should a thought-provoking commentary about a moving woodcarving be included? Or could a better use of precious page space be made with a photo of the valley? Obviously there is no right or wrong answer (for the record, I’m part of a team) but documenting everything and discovering new narratives for certain objects quickly becomes a reward, and your ever-growing scrapbook uniquely reflects your personal journey.
Of course, it helps that season is amazing. With a subdued painterly art style that complements The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and That Game Company’s Journey, this lush fantasy world is always a joy to look at. Familiar sights suggest this is our world—weedy wind turbines, abandoned phone booths, eerily quiet highways. However, the people you meet and the relics of the past you discover slowly piece together a strangely satisfying story.
Like most of the best stories, Season never gives you the full picture and leaves you wanting more. From cycling past a monstrously overgrown temple to discovering the heartrending remains of the dead, I kept ditching the bike to look around earnestly—not to get the on-screen gauges to go up, or to unlock trophies, but Because I wanted to learn more about this stunning landscape.
Despite its fantasy elements, it draws stark parallels to our own climate emergency and the horrors of dementia, making you think about your place in the real world. Who has a mild existential crisis without gaming?
Thankfully, Season tackles a host of heavy themes in a gentle and surprisingly honest manner. As you cycle through meadows and wander through overgrown villages, the soothing soundtrack ensures a quiet calm as it celebrates the fleeting nature of life – and though our time will end, the imprints of our memories will eventually grow save, which provides comfort.
The season, then, succeeds because it makes exploring exciting again. Thanks to zero-goal builders, skill trees, or hidden trinkets to collect, it neatly strips away the creaky intrigue of the well-worn open-world genre, focusing on making its landscape the protagonist. Still, you’ll meet some friendly faces along the way. In Season’s already lonely journey, every encounter with other Ghibli-esque characters feels like a cherished event. The dialogue is brilliantly written and conjures vivid images of that man’s life and the world they previously inhabited.
It feels like the first mid-budget “game as art” chin-stroser since Journey, and Season’s smart musings on legacy, death, and the inherent fragility of life are ones I won’t soon forget. Thought-provoking games are easily bored, and this one succeeds by making the content of the game match the nose-gazing, and its sprawling environments do justice to its ambitious story.
My main criticism is that it doesn’t have more. While Season’s story can be skimmed through in a matter of hours, if you’re anything like me, you stop and savor every pixel. Yet even those ten hours of wonder weren’t enough. Just as the story teases more charter locations for our heroine, your time in the land comes to an abrupt end. But I guess that’s the point. As in our own lives, you see people’s growth and stories as snapshots in time, glimpses of momentary windows — and then you either move on, or life moves on without you.
There are too many little moments of magic to spoil one of them, but that sense of wonder really never gets old when you’re riding through something vast and strange. For gamers looking for the instant endorphin rush of fast-paced action, Season may feel like an insult to fun. However, for those who are tired of cookie-cutter adventures and crave a beautiful, unique story, it doesn’t get much better.
