140 embodies austerity and minimalism to perhaps a more extreme degree than any other game I’ve played. It’s a deliberate decision rather than a limitation. You see, 140 is not much for showing. Instead, it communicates its visual component as simply as possible and allows the rest of its design to inspire the emotional highs that are so frequently wrought by the mere act of playing it. Simple shapes and solid colors are all that populate the screen; the visuals are muted because the sound is more important. However, the functions of each gameplay sequence, as reflected in the visual feedback, are mathematically perfect.
Sound makes 140 what it is. If anything about the game’s audio design was less than perfect, the game would be a failure. Its pulsing, rhythmic soundtrack (its beats-per-minute count presumably contributing the game’s name) is perfectly composed and perfectly mixed. It is designed to tap into your subconscious and subtly hijack your cognitive abilities. And it succeeds to such an incredible degree that you might catch yourself and wonder if the game is somehow playing itself.