I think Gris is a masterpiece. And from what I see online, Most people agree. But looking through the user reviews on steam,
I found more negative comments than I expected. And most of these comments addressed something
similar. “Gris is boring”, “Tedious and boring
gameplay” and the classic, “very boring unless you’re someone’s mom”. Of course. But, I was surprised to see how many people
didn’t enjoy this game. I had just spent four hours totally enamored
with it. Gris was filled with everything I love. A minimal but at times powerful score, a grainy,
watercolor aesthetic, simple but satisfying platforming and an effective, emotional story. I hate to say it, but it legitimately made
me sad to see people scoffing at a game that I enjoyed so much. It made me feel defensive. Why do I think Gris is a masterpiece? The more I thought about it, the more I realized
that maybe Gris is just the perfect game for me. I was mostly drawn to this game for it’s
unique artstyle, but it’s story, although gently told, is very effective. The game opens with a colorful cutscene depicting
Gris singing in the hand of a stone statue representing her mother. Gris loses her voice and the stone begins
to crumble, dropping her down into a black and white world. This description from Devolver Digital sums
up the game’s story better than I could “Gris is a hopeful young girl lost in her
own world, dealing with a painful experience in her life. Her journey through sorrow is manifested in
her dress, which grants new abilities to better navigate her faded reality. As the story unfolds, Gris will grow emotionally
and see her world in a different way, revealing new paths to explore using her new abilities.” One more thing that Gris has going for it
is that it’s a fairly short game at around 4 hours. That was a big plus for me because I’d had
a hard time sticking with longer games when I played it. I was getting older and I thought maybe my
brain was just growing out of it’s gamer phase. But the dramatic introduction to Gris had
me hooked right away. The music in the first few minutes sort of
tiptoes around as you move through this world devoid of color, but even in this colorless
world, the beautiful art style shines. Gris’ light blue hair pops as you move her
through the black and white landscape to eventually reveal the first primary color in the game,
red. Each color in this game represents a different
stage in Gris’ grieving and signifies the start of a new area - usually accompanied
by a new ability. Shortly after entering the red area, you drop
down into a slide and the gentle piano keys and tones that have been playing for the first
10 minutes of gameplay transition into a cascading waterfall of sound and it’s truly just a
beautiful moment. I think the first ten minutes of the game
perfectly shows why the music works so well throughout. The Berlinist’s crafted an eerie, melancholic
score that works as a tone setter in the background of the game in quiet moments of exploration,
but so easily shifts into big dramatic backing in more intense moments, Or it simply performs
in partnership with the visuals and let’s the player just sit back and enjoy the spectacle. Another thing I love about this game is how
the traversal mechanics tie in with the overall narrative. The first ability you acquire is this little
box move. Your first use of the box is to keep yourself
from getting blown back by a strong sandstorm. As Gris’ narrative focuses on grief - exploring
a world that is without vibrant colors and one by one, restoring colors to the world
as you gain new abilities, I think this is a great representation of what it’s like
to work through the anxiety or depression that comes with grief. You’ve got to find ways to hold your ground. This redefines what making progress is. In difficult times, progress might mean moving
forward slower than you’re used to or even just holding tight until the storm settles. The developers at Nomada studios talk about
how the dress works as a metaphor for how people grow in adversity. Without the right tools you will get knocked
down again and again by the winds of anxiety. Doing the work to get the tools you need to
face your anxiety is worth it and maybe it even opens new avenues for you. That's another thing that makes this box mechanic
work so well with the narrative of the game. As you make progress through each level, you
find new ways to use the box to interact with the world and work in tandem with other new
abilities. When you first acquire the ability, you use
it as an anchor against the environment, but you also find yourself using it the same way
as an anchor against the screech of this shape shifting bird creature that follows you throughout
the second half of the game. In another great example of connecting movement
mechanics to narrative, you use a newly acquired double jump/glide ability along with the box
ability to turn the bird’s forceful screech into a propellant to move towards out of reach
platforms. There are a few other uses for this box, like
creating a physical platform for yourself in this ice-like section of the game and knocking
down little pieces of fruit in this area with shifting platforms. This example highlights something about Gris
that I really appreciate To progress through this area, you have to
knock down these three fruits from the blocks so your new friend can chow down. Once you knock down the fruit for them, they
can open up new paths for you. The game delivers this information through
the environment in two ways - one, the little jiggle you can see when you land on one of
the blocks with fruit. Most people that have played a few video games
will know that this likely means those objects are moveable. Even from earlier in Gris, you see a similar
shake when you move over cracks in the ground that can be destroyed. The other clue the game gives you is scattered
along the ground leading up to and in this area. You can see a bunch of these fruits have already
been eaten. These two small details (along with the wide
camera shot in this scene suggesting your new friend is part of the solution to moving
forward) are how the game gives you information. It wasn’t super tough to figure out what
I had to do here, but I came away from this area having a small sense of discovery and
interactivity with the environment. But to be honest, the first time I played
this game, I didn’t really think too much about what I was playing outside of the tranquil
music and beautiful visuals. The game had just been taking me on a sensory
ride that I was deeply into. Even just the color palette perfectly appealed
to what I like. I mean look at these prints I have in my apartment… And we aren’t stopping there. Look at the shirt I’m wearing. These visuals were just right for me. And I was enjoying the gameplay, but the visuals
and the music were what sold me hard on this game. I hadn’t been picking up on too much of
the story, though. Then, about 2.5 hours into my playthrough
there was a moment that really got me. After revealing the yellow, the last color
in the game, You get a button prompt. Gris assumes a singing posture, but nothing
comes out. She’s trying to sing and she can’t. I lost it. For a few months before I played Gris, I had
been having trouble breathing. At first I tried not to think about it too
much, but I couldn’t help stress over it and it progressively got worse. At first I thought I had cancer or some other
illness that was going to slowly kill me, but after finally going to the doctor, I found
out my breathing problems were most likely due to anxiety. This explains why breathing got more difficult
the more I started to worry about it. It wasn’t a good time. So, seeing Gris fail to summon the strength
to use her voice hit close to home. Obviously it’s not a perfect comparison,
but for some reason, it felt intensely personal to me when I realized what was happening. My connection to this game has felt uniquely
special since this moment. A few weeks after finishing the game I booked
an appointment to see a counselor for the first time and I started having an easier
time with my breathing. So, after experiencing the revelation I felt
like this game was, It absolutely bummed me out to see there was a decent number of people
that summed up their experiences with the game as “boring”. I can rationally understand that not everyone
likes what I like, that shouldn't affect me, but it does. It sucks to hear someone scoff at something
that meant so much to me. Am I dumb for letting this boring game bring
me to tears? No, of course not, but why do I feel like
my reality with this game is being threatened by someone else’s opinion? Other people's opinions shouldnt change how
I feel about this game or more importantly, about myself. Because ultimately, I made this channel and
I make videos because analyzing my favorite games helps me know myself better. Analyzing my favorite art helps me understand
myself. But not everyone approaches games the same
way, and of course, my perspective on this game is unique to me. I’ve lived for 25 years developing my taste
in music, visuals and gameplay. And I came to Gris at one of the more vulnerable
times in my life, and it helped me. I know that’s not everyone’s experience
with it, but it was mine It’s also not news that discourse in the
video game community can get too personal. Over the last year, we saw gaming discourse
at it’s worst with the conversation leading up to and following the release of The Last
of Us Pt2. The Last of Us and the characters from it
felt precious to a lot of fans and it was personal to see the story play out in a way
they didn’t appreciate. Laura Bailey and Neil Druckmann both took
to twitter to respond to some of the vitriol being thrown their way. Early leaks of some key moments in the game
outraged some fans. There was a huge wave of “anti SJW” fans
that came at the game and the people responsible for it with some pretty extreme hatred. Critics and Youtubers received loads of hateful
comments causing some like Alannah Pearce to stop streaming the game altogether. It’s good to feel a personal connection
to a piece of art you love. I think that’s a great mode of self discovery,
and I relate to the feeling of being bummed by others not sharing your feelings, but,
when those feelings turn into rampant toxicity against the performance capture artists, Developers,
critics, youtubers (Alannah Pearce, GF Reviews) and just anyone who has a different opinion
on the thing, it isn’t innocent anymore. Gris is a game about a journey through grief
after losing a loved one and the personal growth that comes with it. Gris persists by holding her ground, opening
up new paths by both delving into the depths and reaching for new heights. By the end she rediscovers her voice and accepts
her grief in order to move on. Although I don’t relate directly to the
grief of losing a loved one, the anxiety and darkness that comes with grief is something
that I think we can all find some familiarity with. Especially as we tried to go about our lives
in whatever way we thought best for the last year and a half. At least, thats what I’d like to think. That everyone that plays gris would be able
to open up and have a similar experience to mine, but I know that’s just not how people
work. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think
Gris is a masterpiece, and if you don’t agree...
