I’m going to start here. Watch this. You’ve probably heard of Dear Esther by now, but… just watch.
Dear Esther first appeared in 2008 as a Half-Life 2 mod. It’s an experimental what-is-it from Dan Pinchbeck, a professor at the University of Portsmouth and founder of TheChineseRoom studio. Pinchbeck, who already is tops in my book for loving STALKER nearly as much as I do, likes to experiment with setting and environment to see how first-person games can create different emotions and affect players in different ways. Shortly after the first Dear Esther, he released the crushingly terrifying Korsakovia, and then sort of fell silent for a while. With this latest, though, TheChineseRoom has sort of hit the big time.
This standalone Dear Esther, still powered by Valve’s Source Engine, was remade by artist Robert Briscoe in collaboration with Pinchbeck. While much of the experience has been heavily redesigned, the effort was to retain as much of the original’s intent as possible.
At $9.99 for 2-3 hours you’re unlikely to play twice, I can’t entirely recommend Dear Esther, but I can and will tell you that it’s something you should play, and something you should feel ashamed if you don’t. It’s not a game in the traditional sense, preferring instead to experiment with what the definition of a game should be. Dear Esther is unique, and sad, and while there probably won’t be many like it in the world, there also probably don’t need to be. Whether it’s worth your money is something only you can answer… and you’ll probably only be able to say for sure after you’ve paid, and played, to whatever degree you “play” Dear Esther. In the end all I can say is that it’s something important, even something astounding.
Games are easier. I’m reminded of a time a few months ago when Cities XL 2011 was on sale for $10 on Steam. I grabbed it, and shortly thereafter Armand sent me a text, wanting to know if he should take the plunge. I’d only been playing for 15 minutes or so, so I said I’d get back to him. Maybe an hour later I responded with something along the lines of “if you happen to have $10 in the couch cushions, or maybe a $10 just sitting there on the table, sure, it’s worth it. But if you’d have to work to earn that $10 – if it’s not already available to you and unspoken-for, my advice is to wait.”
Dear Esther, not being exactly a game, is much harder. It’s like recommending or not recommending, you know, James Joyce. Certainly James Joyce is brilliant literature, but he’s also rather difficult to read. I don’t want to foist something on someone. Practically speaking in a the-majority-is-always-sane tone, I can say that this remake has already moved about 50,000 units since its release (a staggering number for a non-game indie at this price point), and has won or is up for countless industry awards. So I don’t want to foist it on you but if you skip it because it sounds weird or boring then you suck.
So You Cried to Fill the Vacuum
Dear Esther is the story of a man who has lost his wife to a drunk driver. For reasons that may or may not become clear as you play, he’s gone to a semi-deserted, half-real island in the Hebrides to wander, and think of her. I say “may or may not” because Dear Esther metes out story chunks in pieces, in the form of a broken monologue of letters to the deceased. Some blocks are triggered by where you are; others at random. Theoretically speaking no player will hear exactly the same story in exactly the same order at exactly the same locations, which means that much of what you hear requires that you make your own determination about Esther’s fate, about the state of their marriage prior to her death, and about why the man is there.
My own playthrough was this: it became clear early on that the man had come to the island to die, though he never revealed why he chose the location, or whether it had any significance to him or to Esther before her death. Nor did he ever reveal how or why he knew so much about the island’s history. And there were moments when I got the distinct impression that Esther was not the only one to die in that crash; that the narrator himself (beautifully played by Nigel Carrington) had also been in the car. Other times he gave me reason to believe that he’d been wandering the island for some time before I’d joined him, and been seriously injured while there. More than once he mentioned a “Paul,” which some gamers have associated with the Paul of Road-to-Damascus fame, but who in my game seemed more like either the drunk who killed Esther, or perhaps a man she was having an affair with, or both.
You must reach your own conclusions. And frankly, it doesn’t matter what those conclusions are. Dear Esther is a heap of broken moments that you assemble like children’s blocks as you roam the bleak and lonely shores of an island that is at least part grief-dream. I can say that whatever your experience, Dear Esther does a profound job of making you feel a little like someone who has lost something precious, and is perhaps wandering this strange landscape to find the inner strength he needs to call it a day himself, because life has never been important and we only cling to it because it’s all we’ve got.
I Will Carry the Torch for You
It’s a beautiful game. Even the aging Source’s limitations can’t contain the visual mastery that Robert Briscoe applies to the island, with its lonely windswept vistas, its bio-luminescent caves with their strawlike stalactites and glittering paintings. Jessica Curry’s soundtrack is equally evocative, beautiful and sad in a way only music can be sad. (the, ah, the soundtrack in the video is not Curry’s work; it’s stock. It just made me think of Dear Esther, and for some reason I wasn’t able to satisfactorily capture a good clean thread of her excellent soundtrack).
And all this is so important because Dear Esther is about the senses; what you see, what you hear. Understand, this is a game where you walk around; that’s it. There is no “jump” button. There is no “use” button. There is nothing to shoot at and nothing to shoot it with if there were; even your flashlight isn’t under your control, it just clicks on when it’s dark. There are no puzzles to solve or obstacles to overcome. In a general sort of way you’re headed somewhere, and gently led in that direction by the island’s scenery and geography. It’ll take you maybe a couple hours to get there, though if you’re determined you could easily do it in 30 minutes. You walk and you listen. While there is much to explore on the island, and while at moments you’ll get tantalizing glimpses in the far-off distance of things that might be people, if you come in to Dear Esther expecting it to be other than it is, you’re sure to be disappointed.
Which would be too bad for you, because while Dear Esther is nothing more than what it is – a rumination on loss and a very, very worthwhile experiment in gameplay design – the world is a better place for having it. It has been interesting to read the differing opinions at all my various favorite outlets and publications. While no one has said it’s “bad” or “unpleasant” (it’s not, even if it’s not your cup of tea, it’s not bad, and not unpleasant), some have tentatively skirted the edge of saying they didn’t like it. Others have heaped praise upon it.
In the end what bothers me about Dear Esther is not whether I considered it worthwhile – I do, money well spent, no regrets – it’s whether I can or should rate or recommend it. Clearly, it’s on Steam, it’ll go down in price soon, probably to pennies.
Did you enjoy The Path? If you did Dear Esther is up your alley. Now in fairness I did not enjoy The Path. I sort of… experienced it. I appreciated it without granting it more than it deserves; like everything from Tale of Tales, I found The Path overly pretentious and ultimately unnecessary, but not difficult to endure. I don’t get that vibe from Dear Esther, which I did enjoy, to whatever degree it’s possible to enjoy such a tragic tale. Pinchbeck is a student of first-person shooters, and Briscoe was once an artist at DICE; the influence of STALKER is monumental, and The Void, and Cryostasis, and many FPS titles from Eastern Europe. But even so, those are more traditional games, so I won’t say if you liked one or all of them you’ll like Dear Esther.
I will say this… if you like sad things and beautiful things, and sad beautiful things, and if you don’t mind investing in something that was never designed to entertain but is nonetheless valuable as an experience, then you should probably put Dear Esther on your list. Playing it isn’t an effort, it’s fluid and simple and fun in its own way. It’s just not something you, or anyone, will necessarily enjoy. But don’t think for a second that makes it less worthy.
Developer: TheChineseRoom | Publisher: Steam | Released: February 2012
Available on PC | Time Played: Finished, about 3 hours
System Requirements: 3.0Ghz CPU, 1GB RAM, WinXP, DirectX 9 | Reviewer’s System: Core i7 2600K, 16GB RAM, GeForce GTX Ti560
Email the author of this post at steerpike@tap-repeatedly.com
Solid work Steerpike. I first stumbled upon Dear Ester years ago when I was evaluating which engine I wanted to build a game concept in. That was just before the Cry Engine 3 was generally available. At the time there was a developer’s blog that I found myself reading with great interest, not for the technical info about building in Source (which I had already written off for its antiquated tools); but, for its ruminations on the story and the setting. I spent a great deal of time on that site, completely fascinated.
I’m somewhat ashamed to say that by the time the game became available I was already sated with the material and failed to support the project [buy the game]. Aside from all the reading I’d done on the blog, my natural impatience with the story form presented in the game led me to believe that I’d experience the actual work like I do most installation art: mild annoyance that there wasn’t enough art and revelation in amongst the academic exercise and pontification. The conceit that a “choose-your-own adventure” story with a randomly generated path through the predetermined plot would be a fun game never really sold me. Having spent a lot of time in writers’ workshops, I couldn’t help but feel that the plot structure was a gimmick that obfuscated story rather than crafted story. That meant that all Dear Ester had left for me was the music and the graphics, which are cool. They just weren’t cool enough for me to endure the story structure for.
As a technical achievement, I have great respect for Dear Ester, especially considering that it was carved with a butter knife at a time when sharper tools where available. As an academic exercise, I respect it as a completed project. As a game, Dear Ester still strikes me as more of an experience than something to be played, like wandering through a stranger’s house out of shear curiosity and whimsy.
What I love about Dear Ester is that it exists as a testament to the notion that even in an era of 200 headed development teams with multimillion dollar budgets it is still possible for small groups with limited resources to complete interesting, engaging projects. The fact that the came was born, lived, died and is now reborn says something hopeful about the game industry. I love the beauty of that.
As someone who experienced the original Dear Esther and found it intriguing (although didn’t exactly know what to make of it) – would you recommend the reboot? Does it have a new ending where everyone goes to Earth and throws away technology?
To tell the truth, HM, I never finished (or really played) the original. I tried, but the graphics were horribly corrupted for some reason. So I can’t say whether the ending’s the same, though I’m guessing it is because as I understand it they made a real effort not to change much of the core. So assuming the first one ends with an invasion of giant sentient machines from outside the galaxy who inexplicably arrive every 50,000 years to wipe out all organic life, then it’s the same ending.
@Brown Fang: what you said.
And don’t feel bad about not buying the game, anyone who hasn’t and does. If you’re hesitant, wait for a sale. They’ll still make money then.
I honestly was thinking about writing a piece about Dear Esther but I had a similar difficulty figuring out what I’d say as a review…I started thinking about it critically and, well, I don’t know what to think. I feel like on some level it’s very easy to quickly point at it and call it “important” because it’s different.
But…despite being exceptionally beautiful, visually and musically, I found that it left me very cold. And I’m not sure what it has accomplished that’s really new here. Non-linear narrative, “games” without gameplay…what does it add?
Well, this feels like an endorsement. I was on the fence. I’ll put it on my list when I have money laying around not doing anything else.
It’s an interesting dilemma, Dix. I agree that it’s easy to fall into the slippery slope of calling things “important” just because they’re out of the ordinary. But in the case of Dear Esther I felt it applied. It is an effort – whether successful or not is, I guess, dependent on the player – to convey the emotion of life after loss and tragedy. While it didn’t make me grieve, it did make me feel something.
An interesting point is that even the narrator isn’t necessarily still grieving. In fact you get the sense that he’s moved past the early stages and is now trying to find reason or logic in what happened. The role of the island in his journey is somewhat of a mystery.
Worth $10? Again, it’s impossible to generalize. It’s a visual marvel given Source’s age; the soundtrack, writing, and acting are all top-notch. And despite the fact that all you do is walk around, I never actually got bored playing it.
I don’t know that Dear Esther will go down in history, but I think it’s an effort toward something that the medium of video games ought to have.
I guess what struck me about its efforts toward emotion was that, really, we’ve seen this before. And we tend to make a big deal of it. But a lot of indies over the last few years (Braid and Limbo spring immediately to mind, but the list is increasingly long) have confronted this idea of loss (if not always death), and in that regard I just didn’t find Dear Esther particularly novel. I feel like it’s in vogue for sort of experimental games to build themselves on a foundation of some not-quite-articulated loss, and frankly it’s getting old.
While Dear Esther is certainly different from some of those other notables, I’m not sure it’s very effectively different. It’s an extended metaphor at best, and one that, I think, could have been better achieved in a different medium.
I “played” the original mod and thought it interesting so was glad to see it get a full polish treatment. I’m buying it, but will wait for it to get the Steam sale treatment.
In response to Steerpike’s interesting review: Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Paul-Damascus theme is mentioned by the narrator many times. The white lines on the rocks in the last part are quotes from the Bible, for instance “A light from heaven shone around him and he fell to the ground”. The words “Acts 22″ (the relevant bible book) are painted on one of the cave walls in part 3. The word Damascus is even present in the morse signals in the music.
I loved Dear Esther. 🙂
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Just a quick heads up, the Dear Esther soundtrack is included in the current Game Music Bundle at http://www.gamemusicbundle.com, I didn’t particularly like the game but there’s no denying just how beautiful and evocative Jessica Curry’s music is. If you like her work then you might want to check out Ludovico Einaudi, particularly his album ‘Nightbook’, and perhaps even Clint Mansell’s soundtrack for The Fountain. Mansell’s Welcome to Lunar Industries for the Moon soundtrack is also amazing and worth a listen.
Moon was such a good movie! Derail Dear Esther article comments…Go!
But yeah, the dude in that movie (Sam something?) was a right fine piece of casting. Oh, Rockwell, right? No time to google!