It’s always a welcome and fairly rare treat when a game can evoke a wide range of emotions from its audience, be it inner reflection, grief, regret, inspiration, or genuine glee—these are all feelings I experienced during my roughly seven hour journey with NORCO, a biting, satirical, and deeply human point-and-click adventure that showcases what a beautifully-crafted, narrative-driven game can really deliver.
Taking place in a real-life town called Norco, in Louisiana, NORCO’s—short for New Orleans Refining Company—dystopian and futuristic settings share a number of similarities with its source material, with both towns plagued by their dark history of oil refinery and environmental disasters, and smoke-covered skies from the unfeeling, monolithic-like flare stacks, which are prominently shown in the game’s opening minutes. Some of the best aspects of the game are its specificity and undeniable authenticity—even if you’ve never been to a place like Norco, the game’s small-town struggles, eccentric denizens, and underlying corruption will likely resonate with most players on some level.
Since it’s a narrative-driven point-and-click adventure, it’s no surprise that its story (as opposed to its simple puzzles and admittedly forgettable QTE mechanics) is the star of the show. Your time is split between playing as Kay—a nomadic young woman who reluctantly returns to her dilapidating home after five years of wandering around militia and war-torn America—and her mother Catherine, an intelligent professor-turned-investigative journalist who’s dying from cancer.
Kay’s present-day adventure takes place following her mother’s death, resulting in an interesting juxtaposition between the mother’s and daughter’s separate but connected journeys. Family trauma is at the forefront of the experience, with the game letting you immediately know how much of Kay’s quiet guilt stems from her estranged relationships with her dead mother, absent father, and missing younger brother (who you try to track down throughout Kay’s story).
Having the story start with Kay’s reluctant and quietly-emotional return home works well in immediately hooking the player in—the opening sequence does a great job of establishing the game’s Southern Gothic tonal blend of melancholy and sci-fi nihilism, with the beautifully-crafted pixelated graphics and animation, as well as the electronic dynamic soundtrack, immediately pulling you in, just like the opening minutes of a great movie or a book that you know you won’t put down.
Kay’s desolate, natural disaster-stricken family house, reminders of her youth via her childhood bedroom, and painful reminders of her mother’s heavy absence, which you learn more about as you click your way through the environment, work as a fantastic way of pulling you into the story; childhood mementos, such as Kay’s beloved and slightly unsettling stuffed monkey, and traumatic experiences, including a darkly comedic memory where she recollects her brother’s desperate efforts to clense the family’s roach-infested microwave, come across as immediately resonant and nostalgic. I can’t stress enough how well done these simple but character and environment-driven opening moments truly are.
Kay’s story revolves around tracking down her missing, slacker-like younger brother and searching for clues relating to the mysterious circumstances surrounding her mother’s death, where the latter’s condition suddenly deteriorated after investigating the oil refinery’s supernatural operations in a local lake, where a mysterious white light was seen (the story is out there in the best way possible). Your accomplices include a small number of eccentric and often darkly comedic characters, such as the futuristic android companion Million, and often clueless and affable private detective Brett LeBlanc, who ends up being the star of the show.
For a point-and-click game, its roster of characters can make or break the experience, and Geography of Robots greatly succeeds in delivering an ensemble of likable, deeply memorable, eccentric, and often comical individuals. The story’s humor is genuinely well done as well, with Geography of Robots nailing the tonal blend of moving family trauma, sci-fi and detective-themed mystery/suspense, and darkly-comedic/absurdist situations; one optional dialogue interaction—“Showgoer’s Tale”— particularly stands out, where a random man recalls their hilariously disasterous, gastrointestinal night, after you’d willingly coerced them into ingesting expired hot dogs. Just pure cinema.
In addition to the point-and-click mechanics you’d expect from a point-and-click game, where you use your cursor to investigate the largely static screen for any clues or observations within a given environment, NORCO utilizes a feature called “Mind Map,” a kind of dynamic quest log and character database where Kay attempts to piece together clues and recall past events as you progress through the story; it’s a visually interesting mechanic that makes sense for the game and leans into the story’s mystery/suspense/detective-themed narrative.
The story is a layered adventure full of surreal, sci-fi, and dystopian twists and turns that’ll keep fans of the genre hooked until the end, and it’s best to leave any further details secret to avoid any spoilers; while there are other, major story elements to discuss, I think it’s best to experience the narrative as blind as possible.
Which moves us onto the game’s still fairly solid but not-quite-as-exciting next section: it’s actual gameplay. While the point-and-click mechanics and Mind Map-related gameplay do feel satisfying, some of NORCO’s other gameplay elements tend to give off a much more hit-or-miss experience. The game’s minor Quick Time Event moments, for instance, feel a bit stiff and lack any real excitement; maybe if they were more utilized within the game, they could’ve had a more memorable impact/offered a more memorable sense of variety to the experience, but as is, they ultimately feel slapped on.
There’s a specific boat-themed section in the game’s third act that ends up feeling as the game’s weakest. Controlling the small boat on screen, while avoiding initially invisible walls and other obstacles, while interesting in theory, ends up feeling largely like padding, causing the game to stumble a bit leading up to its genuinely exciting and climactic final sections. The bland underwater sections, which surprisingly lack any strong imagery to accompany their on-screen text descriptions/storytelling, and feature rudimentary “flip the switch until green” puzzles, come across as uncharacteristically undercooked and shallow. This area ultimately left me scratching my head due to its low quality and unfulfilling gameplay, especially when compared to the rest of the game. This section does feature one of the game’s most iconic artistic moments, but even still, the padding here is apparent and ultimately hurts NORCO’s overall effect.
NORCO’s final big section ends up being the game’s most memorable and immersive, with the story leaning more heavily into its alien, sci-fi, and surreal themes and providing an unsettling atmosphere that helps the overall game leave a more lasting impression. Without giving away spoilers, the surreal-like dream sequence is one of the best parts of the entire game—the heartbreaking family interactions and what-could-have-beens culminate into an emotionally-charged conclusion that may very well induce tears (good luck to anyone with family trauma!). While the ending does provide an overall stellar conclusion, I’d have to say certain aspects do feel a bit rushed, such as the story’s surprising lack of deeper exploration for Kay’s relationship with her missing brother.
Verdict
NORCO offers a genuinely memorable, cathartic, and often hilarious and absurd experience that’s delivered via a gorgeous pixel-animated package. The city’s distinct feel, expressive small-town vibes, and eccentric ensemble of characters are sure to please fans of narrative-driven experiences. I do wish the game’s actual gameplay were a bit deeper and more satisfying, but even if some of NORCO’s mechanics do feel rudimentary and cause some lulls in the experience, the story and its layered journey more than make up for its shortcomings.
This truly feels like a one-of-a-kind adventure that everyone should try to experience, especially those who aren’t afraid to open themselves up for introspection and emotionally-charged storytelling.
8/10 GREAT
The Good
- Gorgeous pixel animation and environments that immediately draw the audience into NORCO’s small-town, Louisiana settings
- Often emotionally-charged storytelling that hits right in the feels, providing a deeply moving experience that’ll resonate with fans of narrative-driven games
- Genuinely interesting small cast of characters that breathes life into the game’s world, with certain characters providing hilarious moments that work well in cutting through the game’s continual, dystopian tension
- The story offers a great mix of sci-fi, mystery/suspense, detective, and light horror-themed elements that’ll keep the player invested until the end
- Certain gameplay mechanics, like the Mind Map, give the player an interesting and visually appealing way of working through the plot
The Bad
- The actual gameplay can admittedly feel lacking, with QTE and occasional puzzles largely feeling forgettable and/or overly simple
- Certain sections act more like bland padding, such as the game’s boat-related area in its final act
- While deeply moving, the ending does feel a bit rushed/undercooked in some regards, notably Kay’s relationship with her missing brother
Les spent seven hours uncovering the surreal mysteries of NORCO on a base PS5.
