By: Amal Abdullah
That Dragon, Cancer is a game created by two parents, Amy and Ryan Green, to eulogize the life of their son Joel, who was diagnosed with atypical teratoid rhabdoid tumor (AT/RT) at just one year old. Joel went through extensive therapy, and his parents fought for their son’s life with him, but he eventually died at the age of five. His parents came up with the idea for the game when he was still four, and after Joel passed away, worked hard on it with a team of other developers, releasing it on what would have been Joel’s seventh birthday.
The game takes you through the family’s journey with Joel’s illness. It’s constructed with a strong narrative arc, with emphasis on the ups and downs of Joel’s everyday life. The developers use the power of highlighting small, seemingly insignificant moments in Joel’s life to make the player think and reflect. When Joel’s brothers question why Joel throws an entire loaf of bread instead of tearing off a piece when the family is feeding a duck at a pond, or why he can’t yet speak at two, their mother makes them understand that Joel’s cancer has delayed his development. Moments like these put the player in the family’s shoes and make them realize what we take for granted.
Throughout the game, poetry and prose are used to engage the player in the emotions that the family experience. Early on, the player is asked, “What is pain . . . without a word for it? What is hope, without a word for it? Or who is God? Or what is joy?”
You, the player aren’t just an observer, but an active participant in Joel’s journey. You take part in the family’s happy, carefree moments — pushing Joel on the swings in the park, or cheering him on as he comes down a slide — but it also comes with experiencing the uncertainty and fear as you progress through his illness. Watching Joel’s parents live through their son’s cancer, though you know what you are watching is only a game, is equally sad and terrifying. The game explains it perfectly in its claim that “Fear is cancer’s preservative. Cancer’s embalming ail. And you, oh Accuser, are fear’s ail salesman. You’re a snake. A serpent. A dragon with snuffed-out coal on his breath. Melting; talons broken from the struggle to free yourself of your own skin.”
The name is metaphorical, likening cancer to a dragon and Joel to a knight. The game gives hope that the dragon can be defeated, but that it requires a fierce and brave warrior willing to put down their own life to defeat it. This game humanizes the battle; it revels in the small pleasures, such as when Joel defeats a tumour or when he adds a word to his limited vocabulary, and it also gives hope in the face of loss, in the falling of the knight.
I found That Dragon, Cancer to be extremely inspiring and uplifting. From beginning to end, the game was a whirlwind of feelings and emotions, a roller coaster with jerks and jolts at every turn. The beautifully drawn graphics, the poetry, and the humanization of the fight against cancer gave a new light to the struggle that both the family and person with the illness have to endure. I give this game a solid 11/10, a must-play for everyone.
