Fishbowl tackles a complex subject with compassion: the loss of a loved one during the first lockdown.
Alo has lost the sparkle in her eyes. This once promising young woman, infatuated with the color purple, poetry, and life itself, was struck with the worst catastrophe imaginable: the loss of a loved one. “What do I do with all this love?” she asks herself as she further deepens into despair. fishbowl tells the heartwrenching story of Alo having to contend with these hardships during the start of lockdown, no less.
For many years, I dared not utter that word. Pandemic. The mere thought, to this day, makes me recoil. This unspeakable global tragedy affected each and every one of us in unique ways. At a personal level, the regression into a more fickle, introverted person that would dread even thinking of going out of his comfort zone was fated. Even then, I would try to find online connections amidst the pain.

I had a work-from-home job even before it started. Each Wednesday, my colleagues and I would have a two-hour session to catch up with the metrics and talk about our lives. It seemed so silly, back then, trying to nervously explain my past dabbles as a DJ. Thumping social events where people would gather to dance and drink seemed like such a distant memory. And yet, I attempted to hold on to things that mattered to me. Music. Movies. Games. I even chatted on a virtual indie short film’s Q&A about its inspirations. I was the only one there.
Similarly, Alo finds herself in a fortunate position. Working as a remote video editor for a successful YouTube channel, her days consist of pairing blocks of data in their corresponding color. Lord knows actual video editing is much more tedious, so this minigame serves as a nice distraction from the horrors. Closed in between four walls suffocates the most hardened of resolves. How do you stave off the creeping darkness in-game? Well, just as you would in real life.
There is a mental health bar above Alo. It fills up when she takes care of herself. Cooking a childhood recipe, relaxing with scalding hot water in the bathtub, videocalling a friend. It also drains when a sad memory shows up. The game balances the ups and downs with vivid, sometimes traumatic, formative memories. Because Alo is going through her grandmother’s belongings, some situations that would otherwise brighten her mood are now tainted with the fact that she is gone. Routine helps; it is not a miracle.

Nobody ever wants to receive that call. That dreaded call. “They have left us,” they tell you. You will never see them again. A swift disease took them, and you could not even get the chance to say goodbye. In most media, it is expected to have a montage where the main character mopes around, the color palette is grayish, and the weather is gloomy, as it should be. Reality is not like that. Kids could be playing in the park on a bright, sunny day. Suddenly a person close to you simply… passes away.
Nothing matters in the aftermath of a devastating event like that. Nobody could judge you for tuning out. Life is beautiful; it is merciless. In my case, it took me about three years to remember who I was. I made a gaming social media account in 2020 where I found a community that is currently my support network. I go out to places I have never been before, with anxiety as my perpetual friend. There is a path forward. Surprise. The only way is through.

fishbowl understands this deeply. Underneath its gorgeously rendered pixel art, this is not a story of loss. It is of love. Once you finish spending those 30 days with Alo, facing joy and sorrow in equal measure, you will realize that it is more than a video game. fishbowl is an essential meditation on mourning. Nobody got through lockdown unscathed. We all suffered in some way, much like Alo does. Perhaps there is still some anguish buried inside us. But just as she slowly picks up the pieces of herself, we might be able to regain that sparkle in our eyes.
fishbowl is out April 2nd for Steam and PlayStation.
1 Comment
Normally Andres’ writing really resonates with me, but I wasn’t initially feeling that with this piece. I read it a couple more times and kept thinking “what am I missing?” I’ve played the demo for the game, I have it preordered on PS5, I’m a fan of his work, etc.
I realized it’s because I had such a different experience with the COVID lockdown. I was put on 50% furlough at work, but also lucky enough to receive enhanced unemployment benefits during that period. So instead of working a 40 hour day job and an extra 15-25 hours doing side gigs each week – I was working 20 hours a week, getting paid more, and getting to reconnect with family at home and some friends online. For me it was an oasis in a troubled world.
For many people this will be a game that can help them walk through some of their own traumas. But it’s also one that can provide some extra knowledge, empathy, understanding to those of us who may have been fortunate enough to have a better experience. For all the reasons Andres outlined – that’s going to be a minority use case for Fishbowl.
But having kind of figured this out, I’m more excited to play than ever. The very broad themes will be familiar and personal, but the specific detail will be very different. It’s making me think of what I really liked about Venba – experiencing something kind of familiar through a totally different lens. I’m not supremely interested in stories that are very like my own. I already know that, I’ve lived it. Seeing it all through some someone else’s point of view, maybe weirdly, makes it more emotional and resonant to me.