Donut County - Empty Holes

Donut County’s most important mechanic, the hole, grows larger the longer you play. It is designed to swallow everything: beginning small with stones and plants, before expanding to swallow chairs, BBQ’s, cars, homes and businesses. As the player, your goal is to keep filling that hole with everything you possibly can.

I don’t know if you know, but Donut County is about gentrification. It’s explicit in the messaging, in the story, and in the thematic actions of its mechanic. It’s mentioned in reviews, it’s brought up in interviews; it’s The Message.

In a few of those interviews, creator Ben Esposito also speaks on how the initial spark of the idea for Donut County was not in fact the message. Instead it was the mechanic, with the message being wrapped around the gameplay later on.

“I realized that the hole is fun and novel, but it’s not the main character of a game,” he says. “The real character is the stuff that you put inside the hole."

Finding a narrative to drive the game, though, was complicated. “Originally, I was searching for a theme about erasure because it’s a game where the only thing you do is erase the stage over and over again,” he says.

The connection between Donut County and gentrification was explicit prior to the game even being playable to the general public. Even the earliest pieces mentioning Donut County, dating back years, attach the game with the topic.

“This is a game about gentrification in L.A. told through donuts,” Esposito said.

If you paid any attention to the game prior to playing it, it’s fairly likely that you know “Donut County = Gentrification”. This is clearly the intended message Ben wanted to get across with his game.

So why was this not at all what I took from my time in the place of fried, glazed confectionery dough? 

If there is to be a form of avatar for the player in Donut County, it does not come in the form of the traditional protagonist. BK and Mira might be the central characters delivering the story beats, but they are not your window into this world. The other NPC’s have their specific levels, but you’re only ever peering through a window into their lives.

The satisfaction of play in Donut County comes with navigating the hole beneath an object, seeing it tilt slowly, and watching it fall to the pits below. As soon as that happens, the hole expands wider, with a sonically pleasing *pop*, before it’s on to the next piece of the environment. This is the goal of every level - leave every space you encounter devoid of things to fill the hole.

In the insatiable, ever expanding maw that is The Hole Itself, we find representation for the one holding the controller.

When was the last time you remember just, having spare free time? When there wasn’t anything specific you needed or wanted to do; or, at the very least, when there wasn’t some form of entertainment available at your finger tips, ready to distract you from the horror of boredom?

Do you ever allow yourself to just stop, and think? Be with yourself and your thoughts, and stop focusing on the next task, the future projects and plans; the other things you could be doing right now? 

Every year, life is filled with more. More work to do, more entertainment to consume, more social events, more family gatherings. More self care, more living, more travel. More chores, more purchases, more stuff. More, more, more.

To stop and reflect is to waste time. Time that could be used being more productive. Even when we are using our time productively, we are always trying to be more efficient, do more. We multitask. We cram. We squeeze in everything; 30 hours of living, 24 hours a day.

I’ve been writing on this website for over five years, because I wanted to feel like I wasn’t “wasting” my free time by playing video games.

A smaller indie title with a Message is a good pick for struggling writer. Reduced play time, explicit topic, easy #content.

I guess I was just trying to fill a hole.

A hole that just keeps getting wider, no matter what I fill it with.