Now, I've been planning on doing this for quite some time – I'll be writing a series of articles on narratives in video games, as well as giving short reviews on the games themselves. It'll be a study on how we understand stories in games, and how they can be presented in a way that's both immersive and engaging. First, I'll give you my honest opinion, and then I'll bring up some discussion-worthy reflections that I've made. There are bound to be spoilers in those parts, but I'll make sure to make them apparent for any will-be players (spoiler tags, maybe?). The number of articles I have to write is yet to be seen, but I'm predicting something between 15-20 in the whole series. This might even become a regular thing, provided the circumstance (and Jesus) wills it. So, now that we've gotten the obligatory introduction paragraph out of the way, we can get onto the real content, eh? And what better game to start with than the recently-released Dear Esther? It's a vastly-improved edition of the cult-classic Half-Life 2 mod from 2008, and I'll tell you exactly why I'm enraptured here, so read onwards!
Dear Esther isn't a video game. It's not a game at all, really. A game requires certain attributes from the player, like skill or cunning. Dear Esther doesn't require you to be a quick-witted FPS freak or a number-crunching RPG master, it just wants to present you with a story hidden behind environmental facets and intriguing narrative, and it does this incredibly well. I suppose that would make Dear Esther an 'interactive experience' or an experiment in interactive storytelling. Or something. Whatever you want to call it. Luis told me it was a “visual novel,” (as opposed to an invisible novel?) but me, I call it “Carl.”
In Dear Esther, your invisible, seemingly armless character has no purpose nor intention other than to hear and experience the story through a haunting narrative. His only guide across the dreary-yet-beautiful island is the collection of distant visual cues incorporated into the level design. A beacon off in the distance, a flowing river, and a small house on the horizon are just a few examples. Sure, the levels are linear, but because of the speed you move and the pace at which the narration kicks in, it feels as though you're wandering through a vast, unfiltered seascape, and the environmental facets only lead the way to the next chapter. I suppose it is unfair to say that the levels are strictly linear, because they're not exactly; there are little side areas and places to walk down, listen to a little bit of narration, and continue on, and they're certainly welcome additions to the plot.
The plot is quite consistently excellent, too. It's written well enough and features enough references to mysterious characters to make you want to play it again. Certainly I find that the environment helps to tell a lot of this tale, but it's storytelling capabilities are limited, and the narration remains the primary plot-recital tool here. I won't spoil it yet, but it's a tale packed with biblical allusions and old legends, and they all relate back to a cast of characters that you get to discover.
The graphical component, however, might be the biggest accomplishment here. When many games present a story, the location often has very little to do with the presentation other than simple context. In Dear Esther, the environment tells a completely different side of the story that simply could not be construed in the narration, and certainly not here without giving away the story. However, to give you a short synopsis, everything that you can find on screen relates back to the narration, and they all provide their own parts of the story. To put it into perspective, think of the Fallout series, with its excellent story-telling capabilities. A skeleton in a fedora trapped in a fridge located halfway across a post-nuclear wasteland is an obvious allusion to the most recent Indiana Jones movie, and while there's not a single pop-culture reference in Dear Esther, it still shares an affinity for environment-based storytelling.
The rest of the graphics are also excellent. Never before have I seen the Source engine pushed to such limits – this is literally the best looking product of Valve's aging software. Not only does it succeed in giving excellent narrative through minute details in the environment, but the setting is so absolutely stunning that it's hard not to want to explore more of it. Especially the cave areas. Those caves are so incredibly stunning that it's difficult for me to believe that this is the same engine that Half Life 2 runs in. Not to say that ol' HL2 hasn't aged well, but this is a cut above anything else I've ever seen Valve put out. Between all the grass on the breathtaking and moody archipelago, to the luminescent glow of the cave interiors, as moonbeams shoot through the openings in the ceiling and reflect back off the damp rock and cascading waterfalls, it is absolutely magnificent, not to mention perfectly complimentary, to the haunting narrator and his mysterious story.
Dear Esther is a stellar combination of visual and audible stimulus that tells a story so well, you'll want to go back and hear it again. According to their Steam page, the narration is a little different every time, which should be neat for those of you looking to unravel every detail of the multi-layered mystery presented in this experience. Combine that with the incredibly high attention to detail in the locations, and what you've got is a short but conclusive experience whose only limitation is its Source engine platform, with which it pushes the boundaries on what's capable from eight-year old software.
Oh, and the soundtrack has some incredible pieces on it. You can listen to it here: Grooveshark.com/Jessica_Curry
PREPARE YOUR MINDS!! SPOILERS INCOMING!!
This is the part where I tell you about all the features of the narrative that were used to hit home maximum effectiveness. If you haven't played this game yet, and don't want to spoil it for yourself, I suggest you use proper protection to defend your brain from harmful information, like David Bowie when he projects his astral visage of the Triangle God onto the plane of metamorphosis in order to confound the screeching crab bears and awaken them from their eternal hibernation – I think you get my point.
I knew nothing about Dear Esther when I bought it. In fact, the only reason I was even remotely interested was because it was on the Steam homepage for 6 weeks and had a nice trailer with an excellent score. After doing some of my own research on the mod, I decided it was high time I gave this thing a go – and what an experience it was.
For starters, the first level is a really great hook. You get an opportunity to listen to the narration while the waves crash in front of you, and an opportunity to look at the shoreline and see the radio tower off in the distance. That's all quite nice. The only issue I had here was with the position of the character, since the first thing I decided to do was go for a swim, only to learn that armless men cannot swim unless within the designated areas, otherwise a guy starts saying “come back, come back” while the lights fade. It's just like at the beginning of RAGE when you walk past the buggy and get shot in the face for no reason. It's unnecessary, it's immersion-breaking, and it doesn't do anything for the story. Not that I like invisible walls, either, but maybe a handrail or something would've given me the visual clue to – oh hey, look at that, a lighthouse!
The lighthouse is a nice touch. Immediately as you start, you're greeted to this decrepit building with cans of paint and subtle hints as the the location's past. Not to mention you hold a flashlight in your teeth, which demonstrates a new mechanic that, while not very useful, is quite excellent to look at.
Dear Esther's story is complimented mainly by visual and audio cues, and one of the most important things in a game is the soundtrack. It establishes a mood, brings back memories, supplies us with time to reflect, or even builds up suspense, and Dear Esther gets all of its music cues spot on. At first I was worried that the music cues were too short and that I would leave the level before the song ended, or that I wouldn't get to the good parts before the song picked up, but I was wrong – Jessica Curry's soundtrack is amazing, and it really compliments the story. With all these games coming out today with licensed soundtracks that have nothing to do with their setting (looking at you, Far Cry 3) it's refreshing to hear a soundtrack so beautifully composed that it enhances the narration. It's soft when it needs to be, and it builds up tension during the climax, and that's all it needs to do. The bonus is that it's just a good soundtrack in general, and when it hits CD format, I'll be there picking up a copy.
Now to those environments. Besides the unsightly texture stretching and stitching that occurs because of Source engine, Esther is a fantastic looking game. The electrical diagrams that you find on the walls within the caves give me that feeling of hand-painted dread. It's like when someone writes on a wall in blood or something, and it just stands out. It's the perfect way to display the scribblings of someone obviously going through an incredibly difficult mental state, and it literally put all the hairs on the back of my neck straight up as I turned the corner and saw the “Road to Damascus.” It reels me right in and lets me draw my own conclusions about this scribbling madman and his pernicious past, and it adds yet another layer of depth to the story. Not to mention the luminescent paint he chose, which lights up the cavern and guides your way. It's a moment of pure sublimity, and I appreciate the sparse use of these facets throught the game. It would've been just as simple to scribble all over the walls, but that would have destroyed the delicate sense of mystery surrounding this character. Why here? Why, because it would be pitch black in here otherwise, and he needs to work his way towards Damascus.
Damascus, of course, a reference to the Old Testament when Paul heads on over to that very city to be confirmed into the Christian faith after a lifetime of ridiculing Christians. It doesn't seem to apply in the most obvious ways in Dear Esther, but when you analyze the narration and scenery, you can derive a few things from it. Firstly, while our armless protagonist reflects on the landscape that he once shared with quite a few characters (including Esther), it becomes apparent that he's reflecting almost entirely out of remorse, or possibly even regret. Regret maybe for not being there for Esther in her time of need, or for falsely accusing a man for drunkenly speeding down the highway when the alcohol was not the determining factor. It's never made completely clear who our protagonist is in Dear Esther, but we can conclude that he cares quite a lot for Esther, and is probably her husband.
Secondly, Paul reaching Damascus in the Old Testament was a hugely cathartic moment for him, that cleansed his entire persona and changed him into a completely different man. Our protagonist here in Dear Esther is searching for exactly the same kind of transformation. If you pay close enough attention to the environment, you can occasionally spot a single seagull, flying off into the direction of the next chapter or off towards the ocean. Even on the last chapter, it's possible to see several ghastly outlines and figures way off in the distance, often hidden behind mist or silhouetted in candlelight. It's an immensely beautiful effect, and it only adds to the ethereal tone in the game. Clearly these spectral beings are of our dear Esther, watching over our armless wander as he makes his way through the seascape, and the seagulls are only symbolic of her presence.
It's wonderful to see an experience that tells a story without blatantly filling in all the rules and establishing the tone by blabbering it all out loud (Ellen Paige in Inception), and that's exactly what Dear Esther does. It has no rules or guiding principles that would make it a video game in the strictest sense of the word, but the way that it expresses its complex story through environmental facets and literary allusions makes it a wonderfully entertaining experience. Top that off with the fact that the subject matter doesn't try to cheer you up, in fact, the opposite – a drunk driving accident, a lonely man who spent his remaining time folding the letters intended for his lover, Esther, into paper boats and then setting them out to sea, and a deserted island that once provided the livelihoods for the entire cast of characters, all completely shattered because of fate. A twisted path of health issues, bad conditions, and emotional torment only led to the death of one completely innocent woman, and her lover was left to question why. When he finally reaches the appropriate conclusion, he heads out for the cliffs, and makes his final cleansing leap into the infinite seas before him, and we're left seeing the shadow of a seagull, perhaps our protagonist incarnate, flying off into the distance before fading to black.
Just the sheer fact that all of that information could be relayed within an experience that takes just over an hour to complete, is stunning. And it's all in the presentation – snippets of letters read by their author while we journey down a winding path towards his ultimate demise. Even with all of that, we're still left with an overwhelming sense of completion. There was nothing left for our 'Paul' in his human form, and as a character, his time had come. He had reached his Damascus, and he required one final triumphant act before he cascaded off into death. Once you come to grips that this is what Dear Esther is all about, you begin to question – could our 'Paul' have been a spectre this entire time? Was the entire experience an ethereal trip down a path that we'd previously walked? If not, how did those diagrams come to line the catacombs, and how else would we have come across our armada of paper boats, still floating in the moonlight? But the most important question of all, it seems, is that given how wonderfully creative the presentation was in this virtual experience, why don't we see this kind of story in our games? I think it's high time we started looking at how we can rectify our narratives, and once again find ourselves enraptured by story, presentation, and creativity. Video games are an art medium, as much as they are a technical medium, and appreciating both will ultimately make us better gamers, as well as push the industry forwards towards better games.
Dear Esther is available now on Steam: store.steampowered.com