Simply Smashing - Virtue and a Sledgehammer Allows for Catharsis, Exploration of Emotions
Sometimes life just makes you want to smash things. That's (somewhat) the premise behind the highly emotional, and very smash-y Virtue and a Sledgehammer.
Virtue and a Sledgehammer is a third-person narratively driven catharsis simulator. In it you play as Pratelle, who returns to her hometown to find the people all replaced by robots that have their memories and emotions. The town holds all sorts of ugly and hard memories for Pratelle–about her relationship with her mother, friends, family, etc. Good thing Pratelle brought a sledgehammer.
Narratively, Virtue and a Sledgehammer is complicated. It mixes emotional family drama and that outcast, black sheep feeling we've all experienced to some degree. It relies heavily on cinematic sequences of interactive fiction to explore themes of family, tradition, trauma and the guilt that comes along with that.
It explores some heavy subject matter like grief, loss of loved ones, abuse, suicide, euthanasia and other sensitive topics. The physical destruction therefore isn't always catharsis, it's emotionally complicated, as you smash machines with loved ones’ memories and the memories themselves. It's not just a power fantasy.
Highly stylish, Virtue and a Sledgehammer uses low poly graphics that are reminiscent of the fifth generation of consoles. Something about the combination of graphics and gameplay gave me serious Red Faction Guerrilla vibes. Especially because of the destruction potential–like the ability to destroy walls and most buildings in a single, well-placed strike.
Since you're wielding a sledgehammer for the majority of the game, everything looks smashable. Not everything is. I can understand the limitations on a technical standpoint, but I was always bummed when my rampage was stopped by a parked car or a fence when I could take down buildings with ease.
There is combat in Virtue and a Sledgehammer–and while you'll be smashing robots that are trying to hurt you, some beg not to be hurt. Or taunt you to do it, if you dare. While the enemies swarm to you, the challenge comes in timing your swings. You can push, half-swing or full-swing. If you get overwhelmed and die, you can always choose to not give up and keep fighting through.
While a sledgehammer might be a desirable substitute to traditional therapy, it won't solve Pratelle’s problems. Just smash them up. The entire game is a mood, and that mood is angry on the surface, but with so much human pain underneath. It's a beautiful game that I encourage everyone who has been labeled a misfit to play.
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