Papers, Please has really stuck in my mind since I first played it in late 2013 (while waiting for my own visa to process, amid speculations that the US government shutdown may slow things even further, so I admittedly am biased). Everything about the game is simple and elegant. You play as a border officer inspecting immigration paperwork in the fictional country of Arstotzka, with the caveat that messing up will further exacerbate the struggle to provide for your family. Every action is just point-and-click, complemented with a UI representing your desk surface, giving you the freedom to drag around documents, rule books, and more. The color palette is dampened and dour, as is the minimal music and sound effects, fitting the oppressive atmosphere of the game. Purely by its unique mechanics and UI, I would already recommend this game to anyone (although I suspect gamers with more experience might be able to better appreciate how the game stands out in the medium). And that's before I even start discussing the story, which can be surprisingly effective and thought-provoking. Obviously spoilers ahead:

1. The game further builds up the oppressiveness of the world with very little actual text. Every countryman, especially the higher officers, drops the phrase "Glory to Arstotzka" constantly. The player-controlled inspector utters little more than the robotic "Next", "Glory to Arstotzka", and "Cause no trouble". The inspector only appears as a silhouette while walking to work, whereas his family is each represented by a circle at the end of the day screen. Some have criticized that the game makes little effort to make players care about the family, however I disagree. My interpretation is the dire situation forced the inspector to be solely focused on making ends meet, for food, heat, or medicine. He is so weighed down by survival that family members feel barely more than numbers. And, the game has neat little touches to cement that inhumanness-- if the player chooses to hang his family portrait up in his booth, he gets a stern warning from his supervisor, and even arrest on his second offense.

2. That indifference is extended to the waiting entrants. They state their purpose of entering the country, from work to visiting family. They make pleas of desperation when paperwork is not in order. However sympathetic they may seem, allowing these unlawful entrants in will result in docked pay for the inspector. The player is constantly forced to choose between feeding the family and turning a blind eye to help certain entrants. Even more subtly, and brilliantly for the game design, players start to tune out the chatter, or deny entry on first sight of paperwork irregularities instead of asking for clarification (sometimes the entrant will present missing documents when reminded). In order to earn a decent paycheck for the family, or to beat the game, kindness and morals are discouraged. The player is at the same time powerful and powerless.

3. Rebel agents show up asking for help. The player is key to helping the potential revolution, but at the same time also limited in information. At no point is the group's ideals known to the player, however they do use violence at points, and use the eerily similar call of nationalism "Glory to the New Arstotzka" in Ending 19 where they succeed. Whether Ending 19, widely considered one of the "good" endings, actually benefits the people of Arstotzka, and the inspector in the long run, is unclear. On the flip side, Ending 20, in which the inspector remains loyal to the regime and unlocks endless mode, isn't all that cherry either. The inspector is essentially on an endless treadmill of work and financial struggles until he fails.

4. The other "good" ending, where the inspector escapes with his family (18, or parts of his family for ending 16), left the most impact on me. As the political unrest leads to potential lockdown, the inspector is presented with the option of confiscating passports and use them for forging escape documents. At the border of the neighboring country Obristan, the inspector waits for 6 hours, frets over his shoddy fake paperwork, and waits for nerve-wrecking seconds before the documents are returned with approval. I loved how the roles were flipped around. After hours of staring at documents, mine seemed obviously fake. The seconds of waiting seemed like an eternity. And to this day I have no idea whether the Obrista inspector was kind or incompetent. But "Welcome to Obristan" certainly sounded warmer than my own "Cause no trouble".

Anyone playing the game absolutely has to see Ending 16/18 for the game to come full circle. The more I think about this game, the more I am impressed by its portrayal of the life struggle in an oppressive regime. The game, itself neither optimistic nor pessimistic, is important and timeless.

Now we wait for the short film. Please be good.