Review R0R0 5/5 · Aug 27, 2025
A sense of place.
My dad died abruptly. He'd been on a business trip, came back with a cough and a week later he just wasn't there anymore. I remember my brother coming down stairs and telling me the news in the same way my dad had alot earlier in my life when my mom had passed away. This frustration on his face, curt, …
My dad died abruptly. He'd been on a business trip, came back with a cough and a week later he just wasn't there anymore. I remember my brother coming down stairs and telling me the news in the same way my dad had alot earlier in my life when my mom had passed away. This frustration on his face, curt, straight to the point, ‘daddy's dead’, and with this almost stoicism he just left the room.
It took me a while to cry, I've always had this odd relationship with death. I can't quite purse it in my head, the idea that a person will exist your entire life and at a specific moment in time they will simply cease to. It's only when I was handed his glasses that It clicked, I'd only ever seen them on his face or in the case beside his bed, I don't think I'd ever touched them once and now, there they were, in my hands cause he didn't need them anymore.
Over time the house that he'd built grew emptier as each of us moved out, as we talked less and less to one another. There was little tethering us together anymore, this two story six bedroom house that once felt warm and too often crowded, now only had echoes to offer us.
I understand Dawn's need to lock everything in place, each room a memorial to a life lived, but also a warning, that no matter what you build, no matter how much it means to you, one day it will be gone, and you will be gone with it. Knowing that, we still build, and we still love, and rush headlong towards the cliffside because what else can we do?
What remains of Edith Finch is the kind of art that I feel honored to have been alive to experience. Bravo. Truly, bravo. I was sitting here looking for a pallette cleanser after 80 hours in Tsushima and while waiting for SILKSOOOOONG! I did not expect to be completely floored by one of the most poignant studies on grief, love and the threads in between us all that I have ever had the pleasure to move through. Again, Bravo.

