MLK: Now is the Time review – spatialising political metaphors

MLK: Now is the Time is a triptych of short experiences themed around three elements core to Martin Luther King’s legendary “I Have a Dream” speech. It uses metaphors that aren’t just visual but spatial and interactive, each scenario exploring examples of institutionalized inequality—specifically related to housing, policing and voting. The production has been badged by Meta with its “VR for good” label, alongside other works motivated by a desire for social impact—including 360 videos Traveling While Black and This is Not a Ceremony, and more experientially ambitious works such as Goliath and On the Morning You Wake (To the End of the World).
The first of Now is the Time’s three chapters is a rigged board game in which the human player (representing black Americans) never has a chance against the computer (representing white Americans). The second is based in a car that’s been pulled over by police; the challenge is to keep your hands on the steering wheel to avoid getting shot by overzealous cops. The third presents a voting card that’s always just in front of you, but never obtainable, moving away every time you try to hold it.

Developer: Flight School Studio
Release date: January 12, 2023
Available on: Quest headets
Experienced on: Meta Quest 2
There’s nothing remotely special about the gameplay, which is, by design, rudimentary—so much so that even the word “gameplay” feels like a stretch. But there’s something very interesting about spatialising and experientializing metaphors. Metaphors are most common in text and speech; we’re not usually asked to “play” them, let alone in an immersive virtual environment. And while I doubt anyone will be blown away by Now is the Time—a modest, slight, short experience—thought and compassion underpin every element of it. From go to whoa the experience lasts about 20 minutes, but its ideas —perhaps even its visual motifs—will linger in the memory.
One of those motifs literalises King’s poetic directive to “hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.” A mustard-coloured stone periodically appears before us, and must be held to trigger a new segment. Adding to the ritualized aspects of the experience is another action that, enabled through hand tracking, also must be performed at the end of each activity to progress to the next one: the raising of our fist into the air. This simple but satisfying action is intended to—and quite successful at—creating a sense of solidarity and shared purpose, like participating in a chant at a rally.
Come to think of it, while I vividly recall each mini-experience, it’s that simple virtual gesture of real-world solidarity that I remember most fondly. A small action with a big meaning.