I used to play Monkey Island as a kid. And I don’t mean casually – I played the hell out of it. Back then, point-and-click adventure games weren’t just a genre – they were a phenomenon. Full Throttle, Space Quest, Day of the Tentacle, Sam & Max Hit the Road, The Dig. I played them all. And of course, Monkey Island 1 & 2.
The mechanics were simple: you guided your character by interacting with people and the world around you. Walk to. Pick up. Use. Talk to. No AI – just pre-written dialog trees. And oh, the dialog. Witty, absurd, sharp. The writing wasn’t just funny – it was layered with irony, sarcasm, and charm. Ron Gilbert and the team didn’t just make a game; they built a world where writing, design, gameplay, and art came together seamlessly. And the soundtrack Michael Z. Land – holy cow, that soundtrack – by still lives in my head rent-free.
“I’m Guybrush Threepwood, and I wanna be a pirate.”
I connected with that. Here’s this clueless, clumsy, endlessly optimistic guy (…brush) chasing a dream. He has no plan, no qualifications, and very little common sense – but he’s going for it. He throws himself into situations, makes mistakes, improvises wildly – and keeps going. That resonated with me. It still does.
Back then, the game made it feel like the world was wide open. Want to dive to the ocean floor, assemble a crew, steal a ship, fight ghost pirates? Go for it. You literally couldn’t die in Monkey Island. You just tried things, failed, tried again. You moved forward. And that spirit – of experimenting, of bumbling your way toward something meaningful – that’s a spirit I still carry with me.
Years later, I played Return to Monkey Island (2022). Same franchise, same protagonist – now through adult eyes. And while the puzzles, humor, and nostalgia were all there, something about the experience landed differently.
This time, I noticed something: you spend most of the game lying, cheating, tricking everyone in your path – including ghosts. You bend every rule, not out of necessity, but because it’s the only way to push the story forward. And when you win – well, that’s it. No consequences. No reckoning. Just “the end.”
Maybe that didn’t bother me as a kid. But as an adult, it stuck with me. You could say, “Come on, it’s a comedy. A kids’ game.” Sure. But even comedies can carry a moral center. That’s why I respect the ending of Seinfeld – those carefree, morally bankrupt characters finally face some accountability. That’s closure. That’s balance.
Monkey Island didn’t give me that this time.
But still, Monkey Island will always be one of my favorite games. I grew up with it. It taught me that it’s okay to be clueless, as long as you keep learning and keep moving. That sometimes, the only way forward is to try everything – even if it looks ridiculous. Maybe it’s all just a simulation after all, as the game suggests.
Because who knows?
“I’m Guybrush Threepwood, and I wanna be a pirate.”
I still do.