Before walking simulators became a thing in the gaming space - and way before their maligned connotation began to spread -, out came The Chinese Room with the self-proclaimed OG of the genre.
In a way, the description is painfully apt - if we’re being honest, all you do in Dear Esther is walk. Most precisely, all you do is walk slowly. This was in fact one of my immediate frustrations with the game. As I was still getting my bearings on where to go, I quickly became annoyed at how slow-paced character movement was, especially in the moments when I realised I had to backtrack. This was, as I had initially figured and later confirmed, intentional, which in a vacuum makes sense: a game can’t just be about walking, and Dear Esther uses slow footwork as a means to take in the scenery, the narration, the mystery, the overall ominous tone. In that sense, it accomplishes what it sets out to do: in time (something this game doesn’t offer a lot of), I started to look at my experience as a curious exercise in meditation, one that made me start reflecting on choices of atmosphere and narrative, which eventually and unexpectedly, turned inward as well. I don’t know if this particular part was intentional, but it was almost fascinating to see my focus shift from parts of the game to parts of my own life, even though I couldn’t technically relate to any of the events present in the plot.
It certainly helps that Dear Esther boasts a surprisingly effective soundscape. Everything - from the wind to the sea, from the steps you take to the music that kicks in, from the eerie noises you hear to the narrator’s voice that subtly lets you know you’re on the right track - is almost masterfully done, and it deeply contributes to that feeling of contemplative meditation I mentioned above, placing your attention in a quasi-hypnotic stasis mode that has you go through the motions in a strangely alluring manner. Even if it sometimes feels you’re moving like a snail. The game also benefits from a cool art design, noticeable in the landscape but especially in the cave interiors, which are some of the most beautiful renditions I remember seeing. Additionally, I really enjoyed the director’s commentary offered in the Landmark Edition, since it gives quite a bit of interesting insight into the dev’s choices. As drawbacks, I’d say Dear Esther wears its very modest budget on its sleeve (sound issues, pathing issues, underwhelming texture quality, pop-in, lack of polish, asset recycling) and it’s a bit too short for its own good.
There also isn’t a big payoff to the journey, narratively speaking - in fact I think the story’s crypticness might end up being quite off-putting to some. But on the other hand, I’d argue the biggest payoff is actually the journey itself. I have a soft spot for games that slow down the playthrough in a meaningful way, and I feel Dear Esther is a bit of a success like that. After having played the blunder that was Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, it definitely made me look at this studio under a much better light. 7.5/10
