Join The Club
Like many others that have come before it, One Move Away derives its satisfaction from handing a bunch of stuff to players and asking them to neatly solve it. And in the same way that Unpacking uses this as a storytelling medium, One Move Away utilises each of its scenarios to tell the story of our nameless protagonist.
It all starts back in 1973, when the tutorial takes place. At that time you're just playing as a baby, who's passing the time by carefully and methodically stacking blocks and neatly sorting them into containers, you know, regular baby things.
It's here that you're taught the restrictions of the game, how precise you have to be with rotating or stacking items, and that a lot can be accomplished by a strong nudge here and there.
The rest of the game follows the protagonist through other major life movements like leaving their family and moving out of their first apartment. All of which sees you having to cram all your world possessions into small moving trailers and trucks.
There's certainly a lot of satisfaction to be had when it comes to neatly packing everything away and stepping back at the end to admire the diligent and precise work, but moving is also stressful, something that One Move Away manages to also capture.
I thought my plan for packing the moving truck was solid. I'd fetched everything down from the apartment and laid it all out on the pavement and road beforehand (there's no oncoming traffic, I checked), so I could see everything I had to work with. Then I went about stacking all the large items of furniture like the sofa, fridge, and washing machine first to get them out of the way. The only problem was that it didn't leave a lot of space for manoeuvring.
There was so much more I needed to pack away, small boxes, lamps, and other nicknacks, but there wasn't any space for me to get into the truck to place them anywhere. So what did I do? Well, what any self-respecting mover would do. I threw the boxes as far into the truck as possible and used the poke function to cram them into any space available. It ain't much but it's honest work.
Ok, so maybe things didn't go exactly as planned, and maybe I should have implemented more patience to get the full cosy experience. But I solved the problem, in my own way, and had fun doing it. Plus, I don't have to unpack any of it, so frankly the dubious nature of which everything is stacked isn't my problem—although, I'd certainly recommend a hardhat to anyone giving it a go.
