Limbo was one of the first indie games that really made it big, next to Castle Crashers, and for that it earns its spot to be remembered, whether fondly or not, among gaming history. I remember seeing the trailer for it before it released and being immediately drawn to its stark visuals and its monochrome color palate, because it just looked so vastly visually different from everything else at the time. In an era of grey and brown FPS's and lush open world sandbox titles, Limbo took it to the extreme and removed all color whatsoever which made it very unusual and hard to ignore. Plus, being a platforming lass myself, I couldn't help but feel very excited for it.
And while it is a fairly standard platforming pseudo puzzle game, there's something infinitely eerie and endlessly complex about it, isn't there? It managed to creep its way into your thoughts and stay there for years, didn't it? It obviously did for a lot of people too, when you stop and considering how many games you still see to this day that pop up with a rather similar style or aesthetic. Hell, even stuff that is seemingly totally unrelated in every possible way - stuff like Dark Maus for a perfect example - are so very obviously influenced by its visual aesthetic. And I'm not here to pile onto the already overwhelming amounts of theoretical debate articles that have been written since its initial release to try and make sense of it all, more than anything because I don't think you can, but I am going to try and explain why its tonal bearings left such an imprint of my mind, personally.
Whatever kind of story Limbo is trying to tell, whatever kind of plot it's attempting to convey, doesn't matter. What matters is how it feels. You're a child, looking for (presumably) your sister, and you're lost. You don't know where you are, don't understand what's around you, can't comprehend why everyone is trying to hurt you and everything is black and white. This, to me, was childhood is essence, whether you're in an actual limbo or not. So much of childhood, whether you grew up in an abusive situation like I did, or you had a perfectly normal relatively happy adolescence, was all about being confused and feeling alone and never really being sure what exactly was going on around you. Adults were often either overbearing, uninterested or actively working to hurt you. The only other people worth seeking out, for most kids, were other kids. I mean, not for me, cause other kids hated me as much as adults did, but still. And everything had a black and white substance to it; good or bad, right or wrong, dead or alive.
Limbo IS childhood.
And it nails it, honestly. Nothing else has ever so perfectly visually personified childhood in a medium where you actively partake in it. Hell, one of the most memorable things from the game that chases you and tries to capture you is a giant spider, and who's more afraid of spiders than children? I mean, I wasn't, cause I was a weird ass little girl, but you know what I'm trying to say. Limbo is also childhood because you're stuck from being able to move forward until everyone agrees it's okay, once you hit an arbitrary age, then you're considered an adult, even with all the ridiculous hypocritical laws that state otherwise. Can't drink at 21, but you can join the army and die for a country that doesn't care about you at 18. Childhood, adolescence in general, is Limbo. A seemingly eternal struggle to feel anything hopeful, to reach a point of betterment, to attain a level of understanding of the world and to see things in any other color besides black and white.
And to stop. running. away.
But for some people, that never ends. Some people, like myself, are forever stuck in a somewhat black and white world, constantly searching for companionship, forever running from things that will stop at nothing to hurt us. Some people never escape from Limbo, and if anything, only descend further into it without being completely swallowed by Hell itself. I may be Jewish, but I take my metaphors very seriously. I think that's why LIMBO resonated so deeply within me, because it really captured that surreal almost eerily ethereal otherworldy vibe that encompassed childhood. Where you eternally felt forgotten, where reality itself felt questionable at best, and where, if you looked just hard enough, you could spot the seams of the world coming undone, frayed at the edges of a distorted perception of a world run by people who don't know what they're doing, and in the process, terrifying the children around them as a result.
Limbo is a platformer with slight puzzle elements, yes, but it's also because that's what childhood is. Constantly running, trying to reach a destination, a new horizon, always puzzling over things that don't quite make sense yet.
Or perhaps I just look far too much into things.