Who’s at the door? Spiel Pt. 2
Who’s at the door? shows what is possible with AI generated contents in Exit 8-likes, and to discuss how the game used the AI contents, it’s bound to touch on some of the spoiler territories. If you want a spoiler-free review, there is a separate piece for it. This one, on the other hand, I wanted to discuss some of the plot-related elements, especially the ones near the end of its plot.
With Spoilers, Spiel
The protagonist of the Who’s at the door? suffering from schizophrenia, a character detail that is hidden in the English version of the game. As I played the game in Korean version, there were some differences between the two versions. In the opening text of the Korean version, it clearly states the protagonist is suffering from schizophrenia. Seeing as the game is developed in Korea and likely developed in Korean first, it appears the developers chose to use the word schizophrenia more liberally than as a medical term. There is a drawback in defining what the protagonist is suffering from. It gives away the hidden truth immediately when a patient with unimaginably cooperative attitude says he is schizophrenic and goes on to take random pills from complete strangers without understanding what are the pills nor who the people are.
Set in 1990, the game depicts Korean apartment more or less as an odd amalgamation of Asian culture tropes. The structure of the apartment, all units surrounding one narrow hallway, especially how the hallway is windowless, is more or less not Korean at all, if not straight out of Kowloon. Old Korean apartments I’ve been to always had outside hallways facing one side of the building, possibly even exposed to the elements without windows. Kitchen and the entrance of the unit would also face the hallway, so the kitchen windows were facing hallways. In old apartment complexes, you were able to see visitors by the kitchen windows. This would explain why the game has a weird window behind a fridge, but not the odd direction it is facing. In many playthrough I saw on YouTube, players would often miss the hidden window entirely.
The interior of the apartment unit is also at odd with what I had seen in the 90s. Koreans didn’t stop wearing shoes indoors in the 90s; there should a simple mudroom or an entrance area by the front door. The starting room of the game is what we would normally call a garage or a storage, but it is highly unlikely to find a room such as this in a Korean apartment — the height of the ceiling in that room alone doesn’t make much sense. And then there is a bathroom that appears to be a dry bath. Korean homes, including apartments, usually have all wet baths, and there is a step down leading into the bathroom. If I start going into details with decorations, the style of the paintings and photos hanging on the wall are all over the place as well, possibly due to its AI-generated nature. But most importantly, the proverb proudly hanging by the kitchen slide door is not used in positive context in modern Korean language. It’s much akin to “you’ve made your bed, now lie in it” in English.
Had the game opted for a lore, one might argue the protagonist might be actually in hell seeking redemption from his past crimes. But the game chose otherwise. It’s hard for me to imagine how the events must have taken place in chronological order. Dr. Kim went missing during his parole. But how exactly did that take place? He’s locked in his own apartment. The television suggests he might have been abducted by the deceaseds’ family for revenge, — the specific term used in Korean text, not sure if it hints the other victims. He is being visited by three strangers everyday, the victims of the same crime. The police searching for parolee would first search his apartment, then investigate the possibly suspects, which would only lead to finding out suspicious activity of primary suspects. And who else is feeding him and caring for him? They must be. How did they manage to convince him in stage I, right after the abduction, that he is suffering from schizophrenia, that his fetish is considered distasteful for common eyes, and that he must undertake this unorthodox treatment? He forgot who he was, and now he forgot his knowledge and skills as a physician? Where did they get their hands on the medications and skills necessary to exact revenge on Kim? The questions keep piling up.
I’ve discussed my four pillar theory of Exit 8-likes in the previous op-ed, and by that criteria, I’m afraid Who’s at the door? does not have strong foundations. If anything, it appears Exit 8 is only used to justify the business decision, instead of taking creative shortcuts to keep things under budget. Anomalies in the game are designed too overtly, the line between an anomaly and what it isn’t is skewed to the point the game became too easy. Abundance of anomalies led to uncontrolled random encounters, resulting in — albeit only anecdotal — unusually high encounters of anomalies in consecutive patterns. When it lost control of the randomness, in its place, it gained a plot in walking simulator style. In fact, the game lacks the eerie transitions found in Exit 8 style games; perhaps it is more accurate to call it an anomaly game instead. It begs the question: how much of this game is an asset flip with AI slop put on for good measure?