“BATTLE YOUR EXES
DISAPPOINT YOUR PARENTS
FIND YOURSELF”
Such is the mantra of THIRSTY SUITORS.
It is so, so, so very tempting to describe THIRSTY SUITORS as the queer SCOTT PILGRIM everyone should have had, even though the former is a videogame and I’m referring to the SCOTT PILGRIM graphic novels. However? No, no, no, it is a very different beast.
THIRSTY SUITORS features Jaja. Jaja is a first-generation American-India transplant. She also goes through romances like toilet paper, leaving emotional turmoil in her wake.
After receiving her comeuppance via a garbage girlfriend miles away, she cycles back home to face the sexy daemons of her past.
To briefly note: I’m a white male (he/they) New Englander so I haven’t dealt with the very specific sort of parental passive-aggressive and negging portrayed here by a first-generation American-Indian woman, but I am married to a Greek woman so I’ve definitely witnessed something similar first-hand.
I will fully admit that I bought THIRSTY SUITORS because it looked like a spiritual sequel to one of my favorite games: JET SET/GRIND RADIO, all rollerblades and culture-jamming. Hell, when I was running club nights, we’d routinely use those JET SET RADIO gaming avatars to promote ourselves. SEGA was way ahead of the curve with that game. (That’s a story for another time.)
While THIRSTY SUITORS delivered on the JGR facet in that it was fun as hell — you can effortlessly skate around your neighborhood and the surrounding areas without facing much in the way of penalties — and it features the same exuberance and a similarly boppy soundtrack.
However, while it does incorporate the JGR mechanics to get around, THIRSTY SUITORS is first-and-foremost about one fuckup of a human being who has made so many bad decisions as a teen — someone who was innately alluring to others — someone who used people close to them like toilet paper, and is reckoning with that and trying to put matters, if not right, then not wrong.
Despite the name, despite what it says on its tin, while everyone here is horny as fuck, it’s about facing the night after as opposed to focusing on hookups.
This game is a fucking exhaustive emotional rollercoaster.
Like the best works, it’s framed as a daily structure. (Hey, don’t believe me? Watch DEADWOOD, which is strictly bound by sunrise and sunset.)
While the game mechanics are thrilling, really, the game is more about the narrative, and what a story. THIRSTY SUITORS is a breath of fresh air, detailing an immigrant story and 20-something angst. While playing it, I was totally gobsmacked that it existed because? Tales like these simply don’t exist in the interactive space, much less look as gorgeous and be so aurally hooky as this.
One of the things I absolutely love, love, love about this game is how physical Jala is. Jala isn’t the sort of person to just walk into a scene; they bounce into the action. Jala loves to flip around, and while part of it is a call to attention, it’s also just innately them. That sort of physical effusiveness is, oddly, no more on display than when Jala is cooking.
The first step to cooking is always: wash your fucking hands. This is the first game I’ve ever seen to prioritize it. (Also? If that’s not your first step in cooking? Uh, fucking learn it! Repeatedly wash your hands, you filthmongers!)
But I digress. Jala? Jala flips herself over and performs a number of acrobatics — and you have to perform a few quicktime events — to do so.
It’s a small note, but upon washing her hands? She flips on back to the stovetop! Everything is sliced and diced and served with over-exercised verve and I fucking love it!
As someone similar, as someone who can’t help but bop around in the kitchen, who can’t stand still, who is a weird ball of energy that always wants to be in motion, I couldn’t help but love her grace.
THIRSTY SUITORS is a game I wish continued forever. I loved every moment of it. (That said, I did skip every optional skating opportunity because I’m not in the mood for twitch-based gaming at the moment!) Did it have a satisfying conclusion? Most certainly. I still want more. I want a 7-UP of this game. 14-UP. 21-UP! (If you aren’t familiar with the reference? There’s an array of documentaries that follow folks every seven years of their lives. Highly recommended!)
I will note that, yes, I was disappointed that I couldn’t really romance anyone, but that’s not the point of the game or its narrative. Despite the flirting options, there’s really no wooing; it’s all about self-examination and self-scrutiny.
There aren’t many games that I feel the need to replay, but this game has been calling to me to revisit. It’s that good, and I feel like so much effort and thought and feeling went into it, but also seems like it was overlooked and under-appreciated. Please rectify that.