What's remarkable is the narrative architecture that Esposito has built around the gameplay, how nothing is quite what it seems. In Donut County, you control a giant, mobile hole in the ground that gets bigger the more it swallows. It's a kind of inversion of the Katamari Damacy formula, in which a small ball grows bigger by rolling over stuff, allowing it to roll over larger and larger stuff, and its mechanics are incredibly simple: Swallow a rock, get a little bigger, swallow a bigger rock, then a fence, a car, a house, a building. And, you know, a raccoon.Īs a game, Donut County is like a slow drip of valium - relaxing, sweet and a little bit numbing. A fable about what to do when your best friend is a total a-hole.

Eventually (like, after years), he figured out that was a terrible idea with good mechanics, made a hard left turn, moved the game to his native L.A., added the raccoon conspiracy, some trailer parks, rabbit sex and an homage to Randy's Donuts, and it became a game about gentrification, corporate greed and personal avarice. explore Hopi and Native American folklore? Or something like that. weirder.ĭonut County was created by Ben Esposito (who also worked on Unfinished Swan and What Remains of Edith Finch), and he originally designed it as a game where players controlled a hole that ate teepees and totem poles and kachina dolls as a way for him to. Mira and BK work at a doughnut shop, which is a front for an evil raccoon corporation that is trying to destroy everything in Los Angeles. It's about the relationship between a girl named Mira and her best friend, BK, who is a raccoon.

A hole that swallows stuff and gets bigger so it can swallow bigger stuff.ĭonut County is not about the hole.

In Donut County, the main character is a hole.

Donut county game amazo