Review: Dear Esther - Your Game Isn't A Game
Review: Dear Esther - Your Game Isn’t A Game by Hard4Games' humble journalist, Ric!
Ric purchased a game to review, and instead he received a film!
So after being irritated from the 40-hour time-sink that was Jagged Alliance: Back In Action, I saw a title released on Steam that gave me hope—Dear Esther. If I could only go back in time and punch myself in the throat, and then steal my credit-card to prevent the biggest mistake of my pathetic, miserable existence (besides playing Duke Nukem Forever). I have one sentence that sums up all of my frustration with Dear Esther: How did this ever see the light of day beyond the drawing board? Shall I elaborate? Very well—consider yourself warned though; this could become violent.
I really wanted to like this game, I swear I did. I even purchased it within five minutes of reading the information on it via Steam. The focus of many of my issues with Dear Esther centers around Steam’s advertising of this—thing. I have to describe this, because I spent—sorry, wasted—my 10 bucks, based on the following information. We begin with the game-description, and I’ll be highlighting all the words that caught my eye:
“A deserted island…a lost man…memories of a fatal crash…a book written by a dying explorer.” Two years in the making, the highly anticipated Indie remake of the cult mod Dear Esther arrives on PC. Dear Esther immerses you in a stunningly realised world, a remote and desolate island somewhere in the outer Hebrides.
Two years? A stunningly realized (yes, we yanks use Z’s and not S’s) world? Awesome! Can’t wait to play thi—… Oh … Next:
Genre: Adventure, Indie, Casual
Here was the word that almost immediately sold me. I friggin’ love adventure-games. Sure, they’re not exciting and adrenaline-filled, but there’s something about going around looting (see my “Looting Consumers” article) keys and objects to uncover secrets. You know what this game isn’t? An adventure game, but do you know what it also isn’t? A game. Next:
Key Features:
-Every play-through a unique experience, with randomly generated audio, visuals and events.
-Explore Incredible environments that push the Source engine to new levels of beauty.
-A poetic, semi-randomised story like you've never experienced in a game before.
-Stunning soundtrack featuring world-class musicians.
-An uncompromisingly inventive game delivered to the highest AAA standards.
To quote My Cousin Vinny, regarding the highlights, “Everything that guy just said is BULLSHIT. Thank you.” Here’s where the crux of my analysis comes in—let’s break these statements down one at a time, shall we? First of all, every play-through of Dear Esther is not a unique experience, because you’re still walking the same linear path from point A to B; maybe you’ll hear a bird in one area instead of wind-blowing. Woop-dee-freaking-doo! That’s like being amazed if an NPC walks to the store instead of his home in a Zelda game. Let’s talk about the use of “incredible” to describe the environments. They’re pretty, yes, but I wouldn’t call them incredible. Maybe Dear Esther’s aesthetics would have been incredible if the flowers and grass weren’t two-dimensional, which looks hilariously awful when you brush past them (see picture below). Maybe I would have been invested in the graphics if you could explore the entire island rather than linear corridors built on smoke-and-mirrors. The water is probably the best part about the game, with waves and ripples splashing against the rocks realistically. Hey, for an indie-title, it’s commendable to see such devotion to graphics, even if there are smoke-and-mirror effects. Let’s continue.
You’ll notice that I highlighted the entire third bullet-point regarding the poetic story. I’ve read forums where people defended Dear Esther because it had a beautifully-written story. How do I say this without sounding offensive? If you liked the writing, then you’re most likely a fan of high-school solicited submissions; those submissions are the typical stuff that ends up on sites like deviantART. This game’s writing is purple-prose at its worst: it uses overly flowery wording (Thesaurus-spam, much?), it’s very over-the-top in execution, and it fails to convey any sort of grit or emotion due to its overly complex symbols thrown in. I think the only time I thought the game captivated my interest was a scene, near the end, where you discover what happened to the letters—and even that was narrated through twitch-inducing sentences. It also didn’t help that I could never tell who the letters were directed to, or why there were chemistry-symbols and bible-quotes everywhere. Don’t say I didn’t ‘get’ it, because the concept is spoiled on the game-description, about the fatal crash—it should be noted that, without this explanation, I wouldn’t have realized what the hell was going on, because the symbolism was far too vague. If you want a game where sorrow and guilt plays a major theme, play Amnesia: The Dark Descent, Braid, or Limbo (all of which are indie titles). At least, in those games, there’s interaction, and the symbolism is far more coherent and immediate.
I love music in games. Music tends to keep me pumped, especially if it’s an action game, but it can also be used to create atmosphere, such as the creepy noises in the Fatal Frame franchise, or the ambience of The Elder Scrolls series. When I heard the music in Dear Esther, I was actually pissed off. Why? Because it, among many aspects, shattered my immersion. I have to reiterate that I really wanted to like Dear Esther, but the lack of interaction, the nauseating writing, and the intrusive music set me off constantly. A game (can I call it a film instead?) like this shouldn’t have music, because I can safely assume that lead developer, Robert Briscoe, clearly intended to create an atmosphere where the player feels lost and stranded in the middle of nowhere. You know what I wouldn’t have in the middle of nowhere? A pianist and violinist following me constantly, unless you could convince me that the main character got lost with his orchestra gang on the way to a show—maybe they’re ghosts. Clever, Briscoe, clever, indeed! Here comes the last, most embarrassing bullet-point.
Inventive? Inventive? Seriously!? How the hell is it possible that a game with no game-play could in any way, shape, or form, be considered inventive? That’s like receiving an empty, decorated plate with a basil garnish at dinner, and calling that the most inventive meal you’ve ever enjoyed. Is this a joke? Are we really supposed to believe that a game with no game-play should be considered inventive? Does this mean I can release a film that’s just audio-tracks on a black screen and call that inventive? And—delivered to the highest triple AAA standards? Do I even need to elaborate on the idiocy behind that statement? Good, because I don’t want to—you’d be lying for defending that statement.
So I made it through the fallacies behind Steam’s advertising. Like a dumbass, I purchased this game, thinking “$9.99, and it has all these things? Holy shit.” Yeah, Ric, holy shit is right—you could have given that $9.99 to some homeless guy outside your apartment. I’ll be honest folks—I think the price of this game is the part that makes me pissed, by far. Dear Esther shouldn’t have been released for $9.99. It should’ve been free or made into an independent art-film. I understand why one would find interest in a film about a guy walking around an island while introspectively spewing poetic monologues; I really do. I know I made fun of the purple-prose, but if you enjoy reading or listening to that style of writing, then a film with Dear Esther’s premise is up your alley. I just don’t think it should have been a game. In the very least, if it had to be a game, it should have been a game, not a film/poetry experiment disguised as a game.
Just to further emphasize my hopes for this title, I’ll give you ideas as to how this could’ve been tweaked in order to become a legitimate game. Instead of leaving bible quotes and scientific symbols scattered around the walls, leave more physical clues (the game actually has a few, such as the broken car parts and the ghostly imagery); you should also be able to interact with these objects—pick them up, take them with you, maybe even use these sorts of objects as a means to an end (like an actual adventure game)? You know how you can zoom in with one button currently? That button should trigger events when examining certain objects; maybe when looking at some shattered glass over the grass, you’d hear car-tires screeching as if about to strike something. Maybe examining an object would trigger a hallucination, either haunting or white-noise-like, such as envisioning high-beam lights moving straight toward you while standing in a narrow tunnel. I actually liked the scenes where he’d whip out a flashlight, such as the ruined cabins, if only because I expected interactions (and disappointingly received none). Since I’d like to think that being alone on an island would be dangerous, I’d like to see actual hazards beyond accidently stepping into water and drowning—maybe a bee hive that you’d have to walk around, or perhaps hearing wolves howling down certain roads when approaching a fork. You don’t even need to add combat, just force the player to interact with the environment rather than treat it like a painting. These ideas are all just small suggestions that could only improve Dear Esther; I could go on all day long, because anything that encourages interaction would help the lack of such in the overall experience.
To me, Dear Esther is thievery at its cheapest—it’s a scam that preys on the pockets of consumers who wouldn’t have spent their money on this product if they knew, beforehand, what they were getting . Yes, I’m aware that there was a 2008 mod, but since I wasn’t keeping track of source-mods, I, like many, missed out on the original title. You know what, though? The mod was free, and this wasn’t, which is shameful. I can only assume that Briscoe wanted to extort some money from not only his cult fan-base, but others who hadn’t seen his original work, and I’m probably not far off, judging by the sales; you certainly wouldn’t have that high of a sale-count on a straight-to-DVD indie release. When I spend money on a game, I want to be entertained, not bored to the brink of death. Some people will claim that games shouldn’t be all about action, platforming, or murder. I agree to that, but they should, at the very least, be interactive. As much as people make fun of the Metal Gear Solid franchise for lacking game-play, at least there is game-play. Here, there’s nothing.
If you really want to see what this game is made of, just look up a ‘let’s play’ of it, as I’m sure there are plenty of those floating around YouTube by now. You’d get just as much enjoyment out of watching as you would playing. If games like The Binding of Isaac, Minecraft, Spelunky, and BIT.TRIP RUNNER are the cool, loveable fellows of the indie-crowd, then Dear Esther is the abusive, slutty girlfriend who slept with everyone behind your back, only to mock you later when she left. What a bitch.
What are some of your opinions on Dear Esther? Leave a comment below!
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