wEngaging with e-arts encompasses more than just passive observation. We have a role to play. Whether it’s music, painting, or film, the artist contributes, but our mental engagement is what completes the experience. This is particularly applicable in gaming, as you aren’t just passively staring at the Mona Lisa for hours on end.
Our relationship with art evolves. In my youth, I had a stronger appreciation for animation, while nowadays I find great value in jazz. My feelings towards the Mona Lisa can vary—sometimes I find it captivating, other times rather dull.
This dynamic perspective is what makes Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 so intriguing. The game explores our efforts to capture our artistic preferences, or at least that’s how I interpret it. The complexity of this sentiment mirrors my evolving relationship with the game itself. Initially, I was entranced by its beauty nearly three decades ago, illuminated as if by personal rays of sunshine as Glenn navigates through nature. (Rest in peace, Robert Redford.)
Visually and audibly, the characters are stunning, complemented by the best voice acting and soundscapes I’ve encountered. The plot initially eluded me; it vaguely centers around Logan who seems to be on the run. A mysterious force referred to as “the sedative” erases individuals from existence once they reach a certain age. Each year, the Hardy Band embarks on a journey to find and confront this entity, striving to prevent humanity from fading into oblivion.
Despite my confusion regarding the plot, I was enamored by its aesthetics and emotional resonance, and I realized that understanding the intricacies of your passions often takes time. Another aspect that turned my appreciation into obsession was the combat system, which is crucial for any turn-based RPG. Once I invested the effort to understand it, my connection deepened and the combat became exhilarating. It was so fulfilling that I embraced my clumsy attempts in the platforming segments, even when they were harshly punishing. That wasn’t my best decision.
But isn’t it true that we overlook the flaws of those we love?
I spent an excessive amount of time with Expedition 33. I’m a player who often bulldozes levels to simplify boss fights. Online sources say the game takes about 30 hours to complete, yet it took me over 50 to face the final boss. This was largely due to my choice to play on default difficulty instead of easy mode. The gameplay was so rewarding that I didn’t mind losing multiple battles; mastering the unique timing of each encounter felt like a genuine accomplishment, akin to mastering a soccer volley.
However, as time went on, my irritation grew. The absence of a level map left me uncertain about whether my current path was a quick detour or a futile expedition. My mood soured when the plot frustrated me with its lack of subtlety in dialogue that leaned toward the melodramatic (“Painting is about essence, not about truth” – please!). Yet, I had committed to this game, along with its ups and downs.
Then something happened that changed everything.
After finally conquering the sedative in an intense 30-minute boss battle, the game crashed.
The game crashed. I was booted back to the title screen, which hasn’t happened to me with an Xbox game in ages. I searched online and found that many players faced this bug. As far as I know, there haven’t been any patches for the Xbox Series S despite the game being released back in April. From a relational perspective, my emotional investment in this game definitely took a hit. A game shouldn’t launch with a bug that can ruin the experience at such a critical moment.
I discovered that pausing immediately during the cutscene can work around the bug, but that results in missing the cutscene—especially important after defeating the ultimate boss.
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It only got worse.
After bypassing the cutscene, I realized the game was not finished. A plot twist revealed a new third act, adding complexity to the narrative.
I felt a sense of detachment as I tried to progress further. I grappled with my emotional investments in both this game and my other commitments.
What initially felt new and captivating had become tainted. Elements I once found exciting, like character relationships leading to enhanced abilities, now seemed cumbersome and pretentious. My trust had eroded. If I crash at the end again, would I truly endure a long and challenging boss fight?
I’m not saying I’m completely done with Expedition 33, but I believe I need some space before I can fully commit again.
Source: www.theguardian.com
