Dear Esther Review
This bold and beautiful experiment blurs the line between video games and other media
What’s so shocking about the game is that it manages to do this with seemingly subdued subjects: most of the island is simply made of rock, dirt, sand, and weeds. But every rock on the beach seems to be well placed and deliberately textured, every errant weed and leaf seems specifically designed to play a role in evoking the right emotions and images. While most games (even those with excellent environmental artists) contain only patches of truly picturesque vistas and life-like surroundings, Dear Esther holds this high level of quality at literally every spot on the island.
This stunning level of artistic creation extends to the landscaping of the island itself. Traversing the island is mostly restricted to well-worn, intimate paths through the landscape, but as you walk along these paths the dips, turns, and hills seem deliberately crafted, sometimes revealing visual focal points suddenly, with the turn of a corner, or cresting the top of a hill, and sometimes letting you see your destination long before you can actually arrive at it. Progress through the island is mirrored by a progression in the weather, and in the conflict and revelations of the prose. Gamers who are entirely accustomed to brushing past the scenery as they mow down frenzied aliens will either be inspired or challenged to find beauty in the layout of these paths, and it’s the sort of aesthetic experience that can’t be found in any other game I’m aware of.
A second aspect of the game that is particularly worth praise is the writing. As you traverse the island and come upon different landmarks and set pieces, the unnamed main character will occasionally speak aloud excerpts of his ‘letters’ to Esther, addressing her in a personal tone. These quotes range from being commentaries on what the player sees in the game to recounting seemingly unrelated anecdotes. Their tone is sometimes somber, sometimes matter-of-fact, and sometimes confused or angry, but in all cases the excerpts are lovingly crafted with metaphors, descriptions, and emotional associations. An important and brilliant aspect of the game is that the same walkthrough does not always trigger the same excerpts. This, coupled with the fact that each repeated gameplay brings a better understanding of the text, means that Dear Esther has a surprising amount of replay value (especially for a game whose sole actions are ‘walking and looking’).
I’ve played through the game twice, and I’m still eager to play it again so I can try to catch those details I missed the first two times. What makes the writing in Dear Esther so strong is that it takes part in an aspect of writing that is mostly absent from gaming today: thematic development. By similes, symbolism, and allusions, the writing reveals the characters and conflicts associated with the island, making the writing almost a game in itself.
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