Rating Curve

I've always adored the concept of this one - the uncanny nature of art pieces in gd has consistently become more and more difficult to overcome for years as creators become more technically proficient and have more tools to work with, and the way THE LIMIT pulls on that thread is super satisfying. What I hadn't noticed before is how expertly paced the whole level is. I recently watched a few scenic and slow "ambient horror" movies like Midsommar and 28 Days/Years Later, and Skywalker is a real pro at knowing when to let scenes breathe for a minute and when to have them swell and intensify their staunchness. I feel like most other creators would have tried too hard to fill time and space and mishandled a format as unique as GD levels.

I do not typically find myself particularly impressed with "limited" levels. Far too few of them actually reflect the sensibilities of whatever creative ruleset they were built under, the most obvious example being the countless 1.9 revival levels that merely use that update's blocks to (often tediously and not often convincingly) mimic modern design. It's just not that captivating to me, a style explicitly built around compromise. You can go on YouTube right now and find countless videos of creators building with the intention of cramming a "passable" "full experience" (or whatever the euphemism of the day for "rate-worthy" is) into 100, 50, 30 objects. But it's only when the exercise is stringent to the point of absurdity that it becomes amazing in itself, unifying with the physical product to create a beautifully whole experience. So elegant, striking, yet enthusiastic. Supremely satisfying in its totality. Really feels destined to be a formative work in some way.

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.

It's a bit unfortunate that I'm firmly in the "Deadlocked is harder" camp, because Theory of Everything 2 is so much more convincing at being the ultimate challenge. Rob struck a brilliant balance between physical and mental intimidation with drastic swings between a bright, stark landscape littered with harsh timings and the more muted memory sections, which are often so overwhelming in their illusions of choice that attempting to traverse them feels futile even well after the correct sequence has been intuited. While practicing, this duality feels impossible to overcome. Once mastered, the two styles provide valuable moments of respite in between each other. It is this requirement of mastering both body and mind that makes Theory of Everything 2 so invigorating to play - every second surviving is a triumph, understanding is a conquest with how cerebral yet aggressive every aspect of the level and its soundtrack are. Probably the last great RobTop level.

The best RobTop level, both from a tutorial perspective and in a vacuum. The out-of-the-box firepower that such a blaring future-techno soundtrack and aggressive, forward structuring provide is utilized perfectly to craft a truly mind-blowing climax that subsides only slightly into a landscape so harsh it feels almost alien. We're living in 2025 and even now, every time I hit play Dry Out convinces me that upside-down jumps and free-form ship sections are cutting-edge developments in level design. It really does feel like you've been left with an amazing burst of realization every time you hit the end wall. I might go as far as to say that this is the best pre-1.9 level in the entire game.

Exhausting in the best possible way. I like Hinds' bold, lo-fi visuals as much as the next guy, and Psychosis is certainly fun, but what pushes it to the next level is how much mental stamina is required to succeed - this layout's awkward and imprecise in all the right places and it's incredibly easy to go wildly off course despite it not actually being very strict timing-wise. It's the perfect tactile accompaniment to such a staunch, oppressive set of audiovisuals.

I'm almost certainly a liberal or even a reactionary in terms of Clumps Theory but even my Establishment Standards simply cannot ignore how this is the most uncompromising level (Yes, I wil be referring to it as that, even if only as a descriptor of the medium) in GD's history. Devin2003 levels eventually ended up on Viprin and Nexus's Youtube channels, gecko eventually decided the struggle was too low-stakes and unproductive to keep How To Disappear unuploaded, pocke and S3rios enthusiastically participate in Hyperbolus rating. I do think the exercise was a bit botched given that Clumps proceeded to engage with level (as in the structure, not the medium) creation afterwards, but the absurd, super-real, hilarious experience one has playing or even watching (one of the level's most subversive features) cold war again is without a doubt one of the most unforgettable ever. Some notes:

• bmbmbm by 7ak was the perfect pseudo-revolutionary level to deface

• there are some absolutely golden comedic moments in this transcript - seeing "liberalism is irrelevant...to me, at least" casually scrolling by is a comedic beat rivalling some of the best of cw2003 GB's career

• I really adore the uber-casualness of the whole ordeal juxtaposed with the real-life cold war and genuine ideological struggle creating yet another layer of the atmosphere of absurdity, even if I "should" be interpreting it more sincerely

• this should probably be the foremost example of the whole "you get what you give" idea that is so common in level criticism, so many brainless social media comments repeating the same tired 3 dollar cube game line

• that the vast majority of people who ever see this level will completely disregard its message and continue to engage with levels the same way we always have is just cold war again's parting gift: "I'm betraying the level by even thinking of it like this"

Clumps made an absurd comedy out of legitimate grievances with GD culture layered within revolutionary aesthetics. I'm sorry, I can't not think of this as genius.

Beautiful, intricate, brimming with personality despite being so blurry and imprecise. It would not be an exaggeration to describe this gameplay as genius with how mentally stimulating it is despite (or perhaps as a result of) its simplicity, and the way everything coalesces into the haunting tower interior will be breathtaking for all time.

There have been plenty of levels retrospectively worshipping the techniques we learned in 1.9, but only Colorful OverNight feels like a contemporary victory lap. From the sweeping ship to the semi-symmetrical duals, every bit feels celebratory, ceremonial even. Just magnificent. There's never been a level so amicable to its audience.

Such a good take on that visceral, gross but functional look the circulatory system has. Of course there's the iconic wave, but besides that the way you bump into every little thing and take such a convoluted route feels so in-character for what feels like an imprecise, improvised delivery system - and yet there's only one possible route, disgusting as it looks. Just look down at the veins in your hand and you'll get the same feeling.