Eyes that Maketh Murder: A Reflection on The Silver Case (1999)

The songs “Blue Monday” by New Order and “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division hold a very particular space in my memory.  This is hardly the most salient detail of 1999’s The Silver Case, spearheaded by the famous game designer Suda, yet this certainly captures my attention. Truly an aesthetically striking, mechanically stubborn game. There is pulp and mundanity spilled together in a unique pattern. After all this, totally count me in for more Suda games.

(Naturally, this reflection contains some spoilers on the game but is largely written for anyone to read.)

At its core, The Silver Case is a tale about society being apparently rocked by a proficient serial killer named Kamui. However, evidence mounts calling into doubt that he could have performed the murders. Kamui even seems to possibly be more than one person. Main character Akira (our self-insert that you can name) encounters this mysterious man as a soldier and later as a detective. Of course the cops are investigating Kamui in connection with the titular Silver Case, but competing factions show up. This all helps illuminate the game as a tale of society at large rather than simply our main character.

Some games will have you solve intricate environmental puzzles. Here the “trigger” for the next event could come from checking email or observing a pet turtle named Red (shown above; image is a screenshot taken from Steam Community). Often, you will even open a door after activating enough triggers. This game is obtuse in numerous ways yet this largely comes across as an appeal. As stubborn as grumpy alleged old man Tetsu complaining about the nonsense of life. There is a beauty there.

The particularity comes across through the game elements. As a work of game, it is clunky. You move slowly and awkwardly. At some point it becomes familiar enough as the routines get set (like checking your computer frequently). In other moments, it takes ten minutes to find a hint of shadow that is meant to communicate you look up (and progress the chapter).

 

Even with stiff gameplay, The Silver Case is striking as an audiovisual work that draws upon one’s eyes. The graphics are often simple, hosting a realistic-ish style. Remarkably, the game is incredibly clear on time of day: often a clock will be matched with a graphic that shows the exact daylight glow or nightly lack of sun.

 

Music undoubtedly strengthens this game’s presentation. Masafumi Takada (of Danganronpa fame) delivers a soundtrack that is haunting under a guise of pop, filtered through a very 90s sense of sound design. Strangely enough, the main character’s apartment theme has the scariest theme of all….I don’t get it….Truly, for me, this music brings the aesthetic to a comforting rhythm even against mundane actions.

Some aspects of the Silver Case did not jive well with me. Namely, the frequent use of swearing and slurs in localization (including, yes, *that* one loved by the internet to describe intelligence) took me out. For a game with a relatively recent release in the West, there sure are some STRIKING choices.

Still, even after finishing the game, I am also hesitant about the portrayal of identities around gender and mental disability. Few female characters play a major role compared to a preponderance of male characters in the spotlight. There is also a supernatural characterization that obscures the lived experiences of characters who live with ‘multiple’ personalities (some use the term ‘plural’ or the more stigmatizing Dissociative Identity Disorder).  In some ways, this depiction may be empowering, but there’s a lot of concerning material that feels more palpable.
 
I also had a difficult time with the concept of cops as they exist in The Silver Case (1999). The job is clearly brutal and takes a toll on people like Tetsu, Akira, and all. Civilians are “processed” for seemingly arbitrary reasons. That said, the confusion of the law enforcement is largely portrayed as a matter of the higher-ups favoring something other than public safety. Cops are not quite pushed back on. That said, these characters do illustrate how cops warning people about crime can in fact *inspire* crime.

Taken together, Silver Case (1999) delivers an intriguingly satisfying sense of rhythm. This rhythm rather than outright explanation carries you through to the end. Without the in-your-face elaboration, you are left to wonder about whether the characters did right. Yet somehow the game does a good job of avoiding moralizing too much, stepping away from good vs evil. Instead, a certain character loosens up and tells you the player to find the light and snuff out the shadow, and there the game ends (in a way), which gives you a direction but not a destination. There’s an appeal to this ambiguity that forces you to discuss a game right after finishing it.  Many of these comments made here, however, may need some updating after I play The 25^th Ward.  Looking forward to more Suda!