Everything

David OReilly, an artist known for his distinctive animated shorts and digital creations, delivers a work that defies easy categorization with Everything. Released on April 21, 2017 for Steam at $14.99, this interactive simulation positions itself not as a challenge to be conquered, but as an experience to be absorbed. Players inhabit a procedurally generated universe, granted the unusual ability to embody virtually any object or lifeform, from a single blade of grass or a wandering ant to mountains, planets, and even entire galaxies. This mechanic is the core proposition, an existential journey that allows for a shift in perspective on a cosmic scale.

Everything eschews the prevalent market trend of high-octane action or complex strategic depth, instead offering a contemplative sandbox. Its market positioning is squarely within the “art game” segment, appealing to those who seek introspection and novel experiences over adrenaline and progression systems. The game’s fabric is woven with a deep philosophical thread, largely articulated through the sampled narration of Alan Watts. These spoken-word excerpts, woven into the gameplay, contextualize the player’s seemingly boundless metamorphoses, encouraging introspection on themes of identity, existence, and the intricate web of universal connections. This design choice pushes Everything toward being a genuine artistic statement within the interactive medium rather than a simple simulation. It is an audacious experiment in scale and philosophy, demanding patience and openness rather than mastery of a control scheme.

• Universal Embodiment System: Players can instantly shift control to any visible object or entity within the procedurally generated world, from microorganisms to celestial bodies, fostering a unique sense of scale and interconnectedness.
• Procedurally Generated Universe: An endless, dynamic environment is designed to offer novel landscapes, ecologies, and cosmic vistas, maintaining an element of unpredictable discovery.
• Philosophical Narration by Alan Watts: The game’s exploration is punctuated by audio excerpts from the renowned philosopher Alan Watts, providing a meditative and thought-provoking commentary on existence, consciousness, and the nature of reality.

To properly assess Everything, one must first discard the standard metrics applied to video games. This is not a product designed for gratification loops or skill-based progression; it operates on an entirely different plane. The most striking element is its universal embodiment mechanic, a bold design that allows players to transition from being a microscopic spore to a sprawling landmass, then to a star, and beyond. This constant flux of scale is disorienting yet potentially enlightening. The design invites a state of childlike wonder, observing the intricate relationships within a single ecosystem — a fox chasing a rabbit, a tree growing, a rock tumbling down a hill. The procedural generation ensures that while the underlying logic remains consistent, the specific manifestations of life and landscape should stay fresh, creating moments of genuine awe.

However, this liberation from traditional gameplay structures is also Everything‘s most significant point of contention. For players conditioned by decades of explicit objectives and reward systems, the game’s deliberate aimlessness can be a source of frustration. There are no quests, no scores, no fail states. The only “goal,” if one can call it that, is observation and the internal shift in perspective. This translates to a slow, almost plodding pace, where the primary interaction is merely being and moving. While the ability to “talk” to other entities exists, it manifests as a simple vocalization or thought bubble, leading to rudimentary, often repetitive, interactions that do little to deepen mechanical engagement. The core loop, such as it is, involves identifying an object, pressing a button to inhabit it, and then exploring its immediate vicinity, searching for new entities to embody or observe. This can feel less like interactive entertainment and more like an advanced, albeit highly stylized, screensaver.

The philosophical narration by Alan Watts is the game’s intellectual anchor. His calming, insightful discussions on the nature of reality, the self, and the universe provide a rich context for the journey. Without Watts, Everything risks collapsing into a mere technical demonstration of scale. With him, it transforms into a guided meditation, a digital koan. The strength lies in how the narration is designed to align with the player’s actions; a shift from an animal to a plant might coincide with Watts musing on the interconnectedness of all life. This symbiotic relationship between interactive exploration and spoken philosophy is where Everything distinguishes itself, offering moments of introspection that few other titles even attempt. Yet, even this can be a double-edged sword; if a player isn’t receptive to its overt philosophical leaning, the narration can feel preachy or simply irrelevant, reducing the entire experience to an exercise in patience rather than enlightenment. The sense of scale and the implications of truly being “everything” are powerful, but the delivery mechanism prioritizes concept over kinetic interaction.

Everything adopts a minimalist yet effective aesthetic. Its visual style, while not striving for hyper-realism, conveys the vastness and diversity of its procedurally generated realms. From the microscopic textures of pollen to the sweeping vistas of alien planets, the visual language is consistent and evocative, prioritizing clarity of form and movement over intricate detail. The UI is largely absent, deliberately ceding screen space to the immersive world, which reinforces the game’s non-traditional approach. This design choice contributes to a sense of unmediated interaction with the environment. As a design, the game is built around observation rather than precision, so its visuals serve the philosophical objective, not the technical benchmark.

On Steam, Everything benefits from the inherent flexibility of PC gaming. While a keyboard and mouse suffice for basic navigation and interaction, the game’s meditative pace and emphasis on exploration make it an ideal candidate for gamepad use. A controller can facilitate a more relaxed, lounge-chair experience, allowing players to lean back and absorb the philosophical musings without the rigid posture often associated with keyboard input. The game leverages standard PC hardware, and a 2D-leaning, minimalist presentation of this kind is light on demanding systems.

Everything is less a game and more a digital Rorschach test. Its strength lies in its unwavering commitment to its core conceit: to allow players to experience the universe from every conceivable vantage point, buttressed by the wisdom of Alan Watts. It’s a title that dares to ask players to simply be, to observe, and to reflect, rather than to conquer or collect. For those with the patience and an open mind, it offers moments of genuine introspection and a unique lens through which to view existence. For others, it will be a curiosity that quickly outstays its welcome, its ponderous pace and lack of conventional gratification proving too great a hurdle. We rate it a solid, distinctive piece of interactive art — flawed in ways that matter, and worth recommending only to the audience it was made for.