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...