I don't know exactly why it is that I stubbornly refuse to rate things without also reviewing them on this site. Hyperbolus's 20-character requirement is long gone, and it's not a policy that I abide by on RYM or any other rating platform. I guess I've just always wanted to have something interesting to say here; I haven't gotten around to rating or reviewing Well Rested even though I'm fairly certain of the score I'd give it, and the absence of anything to do with Crossroads on my profile page here is even more glaring - I've long held it as a landmark of the game to the point where, if not for the slightly more legendary Sculptures, I'd have recognized it as 2022's best level. Some aspects of Crossroads are obvious - incredibly charming animations, unbelievable lushness in colors and melody, satisfaction in tactile patterns. Still, I've only begun to fully appreciate Crossroads, and thus feel comfortable with the idea of reviewing it, since the beginning of this year when I committed myself to drastically increasing the number of films I watched. Weird, right? Crossroads isn't a particularly cinematic experience, and nowhere does it suffer from being preferable as a viewing experience; In fact, the tactile element probably contributes far more to Crossroads than the average level. It's really only two films that have significantly changed my perception of Crossroads. Mulholland Dr. (2001) was the first. Obviously, I won't be spoiling the plot, but I will say that it's a very dramatic, human-centric narrative presented in a way that can be difficult to parse. I've long loved certain films (and other artistic mediums) that aren't strictly representational and are up for interpretation, but I had never been exposed to anything so expressionist at every turn. For a long time I was convinced that there would be some moment of realization where I "got" Crossroads, but years later it hasn't come. Which is fine! The most satisfying way to consume art often isn't to pursue and extract "meaning", or the "idea", and it was on my second viewing of Mulholland Dr. where I really became comfortable with the way I, as a viewer, contributed to my own experiences with art. I'm not convinced that crossroads has a coherent narrative, but it's certainly about something - there are human experiences portrayed in it. My interpretation is that it's a curious, sentimental celebration of the directionlessness of modern living and the chance encounters such ambiguity can create. You go through the everyday motions of repetitive, invisible gameplay as visual sequences portray elements of normalcy - traffic lights, trains and road signs play into an overarching motif of transportation, but it's more important that those and countless others like mountains, balloons, or faucets absolutely worship mundanity. It can't be overstated how massive the world of Crossroads is both physically and spiritually, it does a fantastic job establishing the miniscule space you occupy in the massive societal web we've constructed. That I began to consciously consider this is thanks to the second film that encouraged me to write this, PlayTime (1967). PlayTime's a zoomed-out, satirical look at the impersonal, confusing, megalophobia-inducing character of modern Paris that throws its citizens into all sorts of bizarre and illogical situations. Though Crossroads is a tad more optimistic about the personal merits of such a daunting setting, they're united in their blurry, uncalculated portrayal of modern (particularly urban) living, and in the overt Frenchness of their aesthetics. However, Crossroads branches off (ha) in its final third, when the true complexity of the connections of life is revealed. It's a breathtaking moment that shatters the expectations set by Crossroads's first half, both visually and gameplay-wise. You bask and revel in the people and moments that make up the most important parts of life. If the repetition-based parts of Crossroads portray aimless hustle and bustle, these rooty visuals and calculated, personal clicks show the big gathering when everyone has a day off, if that makes sense - the realization of the crossroads between every person's journey through life. I will say that I think it would have been nice both accessibility-wise and tonally if the gameplay objects became more visible here, it would have been pretty sentimental, like a sudden burst of clarity. Either way, Crossroads continues to impress as it pushes past this grandeur with a beautiful, blazing final dash adorned with inanimate simulacra, perhaps life's memories or mental relics. Just a perfect cap off to a wondrous journey through the human experience, and a final triumph for one of the game's most significant levels. Any level half as beautiful and life-affirming would get my stamp of approval.