Catherine: Full Commitment

Commitment is hard in general. Agreeing to put yourself in the emotional firing line, accepting consequential events that occur in lieu of that commitment. But when it comes to another person, to faithfully love as much of them as you possibly can, whilst acknowledging the ever changing beast that is humanity, that is the ultimate test. Commitment to each other. And in that way there is a cruel and ironic sadness that accompanies the metaphorical mountaintop that romantic relationships with others aim for. When we get there decisions must be made, hearts may be broken, and nerves must be held. For without that steeliness we may encounter a snowballing scenario that requires more of us than we may have the energy to give, being tugged along by the ever changing whims of fate.

Catherine, developed by Atlus and spearheaded by the creative trio of composer Shoji Meguro, character artist Shigenori Soejima and director/producer Katsura Hashino, is unique even for the driving forces behind the Persona series. Eschewing a long, deeply engaging RPG social-sim formula for a tightly focused, much shorter, and much more difficult puzzler. For a lot of the team at the newly in-house formed Studio Zero at Atlus, had never made a game of this type before, and what they were able to create is nothing short of extremely impressive. It is proof (along with many other artistic creations of this type) that bigger is not better, let alone smarter. And that when given the resources and tools to succeed, the best creatives and their versatility will always dictate the quality the work far more than any marketer or executive who cares not about creativity.

We meet Vincent Brooks, a 32 year old man on a date with his girlfriend, Katherine. As the date goes on Katherine begins to complain about how they’ve been together so long and her parents continue to badger her about marriage, clearly with the intention to get the scatterbrained Vincent to agree, his mind floating elsewhere. After time passes he finds himself in a literal sleep induced nightmare. Surrounded by talking sheep, who claim Vincent himself to be a talking sheep. Our protagonist finds himself face to face with a towering skyscraper he must use blocks to build steps in order to survive and allow himself to wake up the following morning. He is told that he and the others must survive that entire week, and every night will be tested in the nightmare.

Provided you are able to do so, the next morning Vincent wakes up to find that he is not alone in bed. Occupying the other half of the sheets is a blonde haired woman, curiously named “Catherine” with a C. Who tells him how much she appreciated “last night.” Dazed and confused, Vincent realizes what has happened. Later that night at the bar Vincent and his friends frequent, The Stray Sheep, Vincent and his friends talk frankly about the events with his friends and his next door neighbor, named Qatherine (does is ever stop?) Vincent affectionately refers to as “Rin” who tries her best to play piano at the bar. And while at the bar the player is able to interact with the various patrons, his friends, the workers and “the three K,C, Q” women through text and phone call, and how the player responds affects the outcome of the conclusion.

As far as characterization goes, Vincent stands out as wholly well realized. He’s not necessarily a “bad” person even if he has done bad things by essentially doing nothing. No, Vincent is far more complex than that. It’s hard not to think that Vincent absolutely despises himself, he doesn’t value himself enough to make decisions on things important to him, or to even know what those important things ARE to him. Letting everyone else decide where he goes, what he does, and most relevant to the story, WHO he chooses. And it is the very essence of those non-decisions that lead Vincent into the nightmare space. He is not an ideal. Not someone to look up to, lionize, or imitate. He is piteous, pathetic, but not malicious. Life piles on top of him and he doesn’t think he deserves to be seen as a good person. So he lets it happen, and lets people talk. Toothless and timid, but acting just enough that he is, to a not insignificant extent, at fault for what is occurring.

Talking with the other sheep in the midway points you get the sense that they are in similar positions in life to Vincent, and it becomes harder and harder to not think of the dream towers as a special kind of hell for unfaithful male partners. Not necessarily learning to stop dragging their feet for their partner’s sake, but for their own. Climbing their own, seeing their own manifestations that are unique to their own situations. And as you climb you get the feeling that you’re not only learning more as the player but that Vincent himself is learning more from each successful climb. Not just in how to navigate future obstacles within the nightly towers but in how to overcome his personal problems in life. Some created by him, others thrust upon him through no fault of his own, and a few of the malicious variety fabricated by others, pulling him in all manner of directions and outcomes. Slowly figuring out how to change himself, and stand up for what he wants to be.

Vincent’s plight and growth is just as equally reflected through its puzzle gameplay systems. With each block he moves into place, each climb up the daunting evening towers, debris falling around him, sometimes being chased by a purser or another lost sheep, stuck to the whims of their lover, he still chooses to make that climb, to push that block to give himself a chance to save himself. Even with the ability to undo self destructive moves, you still must make that choice to create a new path, where the other ones have failed. The choice that Vincent struggles making so regularly in his daily life. Ultimately making it through the night and one step closer to surviving the tumultuous week. Climbing that mountaintop day in and day out is affirming to someone, but when you’re doing all this work, unseen by the person whom you are doing it for is an exhaustive process. Do they have to climb too? It only seems fair that they should have to as well.

There is a deeper meaning than just the exploration of commitment as something that is difficult, especially when swayed by so many exterior factors. Catherine is a work that endeavors in every possible way to show the pitfalls of having no commitment to boundaries. Being tugged at in all different directions by what others think, what they want for themselves and to impose upon you. All whilst never paying mind to what YOU think, what YOU want. Being unable to walk that tightrope can often lead to consequences of a heartless variety. By trying to cause no one pain, you more often end up causing everyone pain, no matter how unintended those sins might have been. The lack of a decision was the decision. As the amnesiac Rin said to Vincent in one of the game’s most heartwarming scenes: “I don’t think other people should decide what is important to you.” 

We need to be masters of our own moral compass. If we allow the chaotic elements of life to spontaneously combust around us and timidly shrug as opposed to defiantly self-determining as much of our outcomes as we realistically have control over, the chaos of life will take us to a darker moral conclusion, no matter how altruistic, unassuming, and benign we may think ourselves to be. There is always a respectful and humanely decent way to stand up for ourselves, and we can be proud of that control that we take, even if the end result is less than ideal.