Most accounts interpret the ending of Braid as the revelation that Tim is “bad guy,” and consequently that his actions are morally bad. However, Braid’s composition doesn’t involve binary moral battles: narratively, we are told that Tim has wronged the Princess he is trying to rescue, and mechanistically, enemies to the player also destroy each other. Visually, a child’s imagination guides the cartoonish art of Braid. Bold, dark outlines hug high-saturation planks whose browns have a rosy tint, a style that exaggerates in a way reminiscent of childhood media. Thick paint strokes meld details together for a more visceral experience. The size of Tim’s head in proportion to his body gives him approximately the proportions of a toddler, and recognizable objects like trees consistently dwarf his figure. These playful visuals of Braid contrasted with symbols of adulthood suggest that the role reversal revealed in the final scene is not about good and evil, but immaturity and desire to control.
World Five’s mixture of ordinary and strange objects especially points to a mixture of reality and child’s fantasy. In world five, platforms are composed of nautical objects, such as a furled ship’s sail and barnacles on mossy wood, beside items that look like ornate wooden furniture. Plain cushions that could be in any American middle-class living room sit underneath cushions plush, tasseled cushions and intricately woven rugs. The combination of these elements calls to make-believe, child’s play of turning mundane objects and settings into imaginary worlds. Tables are made to be ships and imagination their sails; sofa cushions as lush goods are brought back from foreign lands in the child’s imagination. Looking as a child, a cowboy, astronaut, and knight can all be seen in various the levels of the game. The child indulges fantasy through playing in this world, but also controls the elements within; without, the truth behind the acting shines through.
These visual juxtapositions symbolize the contrast between a child’s and an adult’s view. Ultimately, any child’s fantasy is to acquire a role and develop into a fully capable adult who can make the rules. An adult’s vision of a child, on the other hand, is one who is carefree, playful, and unlimited. To adult players, Tim’s suit and tie indicate subjugation to the working, adult world. On the other hand, his desire to take things back in time is nostalgic for childhood, and the playful, consequence-free imagination of childhood. The manifestation of these differences lies in the castle at the end of World Six represents adults as their clothing, while a child is fully formed. Adults are anonymous, unknowable, but a child is present and active.
The final level is not a redemption of Tim, as Ryerson suggests, but the exposure of an adult male fantasy of control interwoven with the child’s fantasy. The figure of the knight who eventually rescues the princess is the epitome of a masculine power fantasy, quite literally, and the epilogue shows a picture of a male child who could be Tim himself. Immaturity and the desire to control are not a binary here. Where once we thought we were an adult in a child’s world, we now see the veins of the irresponsible side of childhood functioning in an adult’s world. Tim’s play with time is no longer innocent fantasy but the desire to reverse time in order to have control a person, the Princess. The control aspect of a child’s play now takes on a more sinister edge. Tim’s childish desires fuel his irresponsible actions as an adult, and he desires to inhabit this childish world even while he can no longer play—unlike in play, the actions that hurt the Princess have consequences. In the other direction, his desire for control grips his play and allows him to dictate the fantasy. The power of the final level and epilogue is that they fracture the innocence we assumed was part of the childishness, and instead reveals the dangers of an immature mindset controlling action in the world of consequence that adults should follow.
(This essay was inspired by a comment of mine on another blog post, as well as thoughts during class discussion.)
I think this reading is really exciting, but I'm kind of curious about the implications that it has for Tim's character, and a lot of the thematic messaging of the game. Like we talked about extensively in class, I'm really interested in the gameplay and the artistry exploring the damaging and aggressive mindset of masculine domination. In the "nuclear" reading, as well as a feminist reading, there are strong points and messaging throughout the game surrounding the princess and Tim becoming evocative of masculine domination (over time, over women, over nuclear fission, etc.). But in your reading, and especially in your conclusion, you wrote that these attitudes "instead reveals the dangers of an immature mindset controlling action in the worl…
Hi Klu,
Interesting! One of the first questions that comes to mind from reading your response is: “what does it mean to play Braid as a child?” Consider this question in two senses: on the one hand it could be true, as you have argued, that the player plays as Tim, who is a child. On the other hand, however, this question can be interpreted to mean that the player themselves is the child, and I think this reading presents a fun reading of Braid.
As you mentioned, the art within the game can be considered very childish, as can the size/shape of Tim’s character relative to the game’s environment. But how do we reconcile this with the…
I really like the nuanced view of Tim that you've developed! I agree-- there is a childlike but ultimately dangerous naivete that Blow portrays in Tim's story that goes beyond black-and-white moral judgments. I think this point is all the more profound when you link it to the ubiquitous Mario references, which bring the childhood of many of the now adult players of Braid into play, as we discussed in class. These players would likely feel a kind of nostalgic identification with Tim's quest due to these associations, which is progressively complicated as the simple Mario-like narrative is unsettled and blurred with more serious, even violent themes that might arise from the same impulses as that childish fantasy of savin…