While past reviews, ruminations and occasional mutterings might have you convinced I loathe simplicity, the truth of the matter is this pig judges on intent.

If you set out to create a complex game but then (for whatever reason) start short-changing players with lackluster writing, repetitive gameplay or outmoded mechanics, that is no bueno and you can bet your bottom Pig will call you out for it... If, on the other trotter, you and your programmer buddy want to spend two and a half years seeing a wee, manageable indie to fruition and your utmost ambition is completing the project to the best of your ability, then you are Oleg Sergeev and Andrey Rumak of Do My Best Games and — a-OK in my book.

The indie in question is 2016's The Final Station – roughly 7 hours of sidescrolling and management-lite joy – which might be as linear (and about as long) as a ruler, but sports intuitive design, breathtaking pixels and surprisingly spry world-building that oozes (pun intended) ambiance out of every pore.

In the game, you play an unfortunate engineman who picks the worst possible moment to come back from vacation. All is not well in the world, you see, and while your first few stops might be the very definition of rote, a cataclysm unraveling in the background puts a prompt damper on any feelings of normalcy and forces our mundane engineer to become a hard-bitten survivor.

Running shady government errands, you ride your train from town to town, picking up supplies, vague strands of backstory and bewildered civilians, all in the hope that – by your titular final stop – you will be able to somehow avert the looming disaster.

To put its best foot forward, The Final Station would have to actually take three steps, as the game's overall design, writing and gameplay are ideal for what it set out to accomplish.

The design is intuitive and very well constructed. While, to be fair, it is grounded in very simple mechanics (the entire game runs on 9 keyboard keys and two mouse buttons), at no point – and with a minimum of fourth-wall-breaking interruption – are you left scratching your head about how to get something done.

While intentionally opaque, the writing is nonetheless very solid, offering glimpses into goings-on without spoon-feeding the player any blatant answers. Assembling the overall impression of the game world is left up to the player, which – for a survival game – is the only right choice to make. The looming, larger-than-life events happening just off screen and shreds of individual outlooks only serve to accentuate the ominous, oppressive mood of strolling down empty streets unsure of what awaits in the next staircase, down a gloomy ventillation shaft or around an untraversed corner...

The gameplay is fluid and smooth (which is not to say easy) and boils down tried-and-true survival mechanics to their barest essentials (balancing scarcity of resources against imminent risk) during two main sections of the game.

On foot, our engineman can shoot, punch or throw furniture and appliances as he scours empty cities for crafting resources, money, food and first aid kits. While limited in number, the handful of enemy types encountered offer sufficient "rock, paper, scissors" complexity to every engagement (especially in groups) forcing the player to plan ahead (or be made to replay a section from their most recent, handy-dandy automatic save point).

Some survivors encountered in cities can be coaxed onto the train as passengers and – if kept alive until the end of an act – offer rewards once they disembark. This further complicates city exploration, forcing the player to gauge whether getting an extra food ration is worth the risk or if using a first aid kit on themselves might sacrifice a greater reward in the long term.

Aboard the train, the player has to quickly tend to the (food/health) needs of passengers all the while ensuring the continuing operation of the engine (via a handful of simple mini-games that don't outstay their welcome). The only real difficulty here is not getting distracted by the beautiful scenery in the backdrop or by the muttered exposition between passengers. Which might not seem like much of a challenge, but has – on more than one occasion – cost me a fare.

Honestly, the only thing worse than having someone die of hunger because you were distracted by, say, a distant nuclear explosion and the subtle murmur of geiger counters, is having nothing to distract you from the fact that someone will die soon because you have no means of helping them.

In more urbane stops, the engineman can trade his hard-earned fares for resources and weapon upgrades, which have the potential to somewhat ease ongoing travel.

In the age of ever more complex titles and excessive budgets, The Final Station might seem like a throwback (which it isn't) or an amateur effort (which, in the best way imaginable, it very much is), but in spite of its simplicity (or, dare I say, because of it), the game offers a beautifully streamlined experience that strikes at the very root of survival gameplay.

If survival games tickle your taste buds but you don't have the time to sit down to yet another elaborate four-course meal, consider indulging this hearty, bite-sized snack: simply-made and with fewer ingredients, to be sure, but cooked to perfection nonetheless.

Pig Notifies:

• -Do My Best Games released a DLC for The Final Station in 2017 (called The Only Traitor); and a (seemingly) much more impressive second outing, The Bookwalker, in 2023; having had played neither, I cannot personally recommend you try them; what I can say, however, is that reviewers other than myself had broadly nice things to say about both; if you're ever in an expansive mood, have cash to spare or simply feel like supporting worthwhile indie devs, here's two more things you could spend money on;