GRIS

Gris‘ ending is also an emotionally resonant moment that will likely stick with many who experience it. Due to its short nature and the depth of its allegory, I don’t think it will be long before I jump back in to more carefully pick apart its themes and individual elements. It’s a lovely game that has a lot to say and a lot of beauty to share in a short amount of time.

It’s too self-conscious, and too wrapped up in being aesthetically pleasing. It’s too tied to the idea of a neat conclusion. It’s so caught up in the language of recurring motifs and visual continuity that it doesn’t seem to notice when the emotional arc loses clarity and continuity. The overall effect for me ends up being elegant but detached. A slightly muddled compendium of the picturesque sides of grief.

GRIS is a special game. It’s not often that something in our medium can elicit such profound emotion relying solely on art, music, and the player’s interpretation of what exactly they are experiencing. This is not a game that will challenge you, and clocking in at around three hours doesn’t even last that long. But as an experience, GRIS does exactly what it needs to.