One Move Away Review (Xbox Series X|S & PC)

I’d love to say that One Move Away made the solemn act of upping sticks and moving to a new home a lot easier, and that it made an otherwise stressful ordeal a  bit more enjoyable. Heck, I’d even like to say that it held a candle to Unpacking, or that it made an inner zen child emerge from the pits of catharsis. The truth, however, is that One Move Away wasn’t quite nearly as therapeutic as it could have been. Relaxing, at times, sure — but stressful, and not to mention an absolute nightmare to navigate. It wasn’t due to the fact that it lacked the capacity to handle timeless wears and beloved keepsakes; it was that so much as a single miscalculation could reverse the tide of change and force me to rage quit what should’ve been a thoroughly entertaining coming-of-age adventure.

Don’t get me wrong, I adored the silent premise—the fact that I was never really given a story, but rather, a collection of time periods and a whole lot of trinkets with seemingly sentimental qualities. I even enjoyed the objects, in general—the themed toys and the items that, to me, never really made a lot of sense, yet still had some form of spiritual connection to a voiceless protagonist. And if One Move Away was just about combing over old trinkets and cramming them into the back of a car, then I wouldn’t have had an issue with it. I could have spent more time threading the needle and piecing a storyline together, and less time waging wars with physics and a system that, for some reason, only chose to thwart my progress whenever I felt as if I had it all in the right place.

The idea was simple: transition from various time periods—childhood to adulthood, for example—and load up various items into the back of a vehicle. That part was relatively easy, as it more or less involved gathering old keepsakes, filling containers, and then finding a spot in a shoddy wagon to store them. It was what came after, though, that rocked the apple cart, so to speak. See, it was never truly about reminiscing over old memories, or even about unlocking pieces of history that had once played a role in the evolution of a mysterious character. Rather, it was about learning how to juggle, not so much with the emotional baggage, but with a rickety tower of blocks that would irritatingly topple when you least expected them to.

One Move Away started out with a simple objective: to sort through objects and compile them into a small container. The box would then be stacked in the back of a vehicle, and the story would pivot over to a new location. A new chain of events would unfold from behind a smokescreen, and before long, the game would invite me to, well, pack it all up again. New items would be added to the sidewalk, and vague fragments of information pertaining to one of the three protagonists would occasionally emerge to add a slither of detail to the overarching plot. The cycle would repeat, and I’d suddenly be back at the helm to make the same mistakes all over again.

While One Move Away is described as a therapeutic zen-like experience, its tedious stacking mechanics and abrupt execution clearly prove otherwise here. Given that a minor error can ultimately result in a lot of emotional distress, the act of doing something that should be calming can be awfully difficult to tackle in certain situations. Case in point, I must have spent more time watching a tireless graft result in utter chaos than in bittersweet catharsis. For instance, I would take several minutes finding the ideal spot to store several precious heirlooms, only to discover that a slight miscalculation in weight distribution was enough to reverse the process and send me back to the beginning. Unfortunately, that same issue remained a villainous puppet throughout each chapter in the journey.

Of course, when things did finally go according to plan, One Move Away was able to live up to its fickle promise of being a relaxing game. The visuals were great, and thankfully, the game as a whole had more than enough intriguing objects and heirlooms to keep me interested in the story. Even without any dialogue or tall tales to tell, there was often something there to pique my curiosity. And, to be fair, it was during moments like these where I’d often feel a spike in enthusiasm, almost as if there was a counterweight to balance out the negative side effects of the packing process. It’s just a shame that said moments never stuck around long enough to, you know, calm me.

Perhaps I judged it poorly, or perhaps I made the mistake of directly comparing One Move Away to Unpacking or Camper Van: Make it Home. With hindsight, I probably never should’ve placed it on the same pedestal as a traditional cozy puzzle game, because frankly, it wasn’t that sort of experience. It had its moments, for sure, but it also had a lot of issues that would often leave me feeling more frustrated than at peace with the world. Maybe it was a skill issue, or maybe, just maybe, moving home on a digital front was just as stressful as it is in real life.

Verdict

One Move Away fails to capitalize on its seemingly non-existent zen qualities, not because it lacks the visual appeal and the intriguing heirlooms, but simply because it puts all of its weight on its physics-based stacking procedures rather than its satisfyingly sweet aesthetic and wholesome nature. Don’t get me wrong, it can be a pleasant experience, and it can leave you itching for a few more boxes to rifle through. That said, it can also be an absolute nightmare to bond with, especially when you have a lot more to juggle than emotional baggage alone. But, that’s One Move Away, in a nutshell: a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and not to mention a game that only very rarely shines bright after you’ve endured numerous attempts to eradicate the darkness.

Of course, if you are on the market for an organizing sim that packs more of a punch than your average by-the-numbers Unpacking clone, then you might just find a slither of joy in the act of toppling priceless heirlooms like they’re worthless dominos. With all of that said, I wouldn’t expect a calming journey through the eras here, because you won’t find one. Sorry to burst your bubble, folks.