‘There’s too much text. No voice acting is a bummer. The visuals look drab. It’s probably boring.'
I urge you to ignore everything you might be employing as a possible internal deterrent against playing this game, and just give it a go. Pentiment serves as the poster-child argument for a subscription service like Game Pass, since in Josh Sawyer’s own words, it wouldn’t have been made without it. Regardless of stylistic or design choices, its quality is palpable: it is an intellectual flex, an undeniable labour of love that, despite its humble development, still manages to impress by its tone, originality and intent.
Broadly, Pentiment is a narrative whodunnit. However, it is the sum of its individual parts that elevate it beyond what I initially thought I was going to get. What it does, it does remarkably well: rather than being overwhelmed by its amount of text, info dump and historical references, I found myself captivated by the way they handle exposition (relevant words in the speech bubble are clickable in order to access short, useful context); rather than being put off by its art, I found myself mesmerised by the drive behind its beautiful illustrations, filled with colourful medieval-looking vignettes that show tremendous attention to detail, from the lighting to how different fonts reflect the characters’ different social statuses; rather than missing voice acting, I found myself almost hypnotised by its soothing medieval music and nature soundscape as I took in the the text-based dialogue; rather than feeling bored by its apparent passive delivery, I found myself enthralled by the exceptionally rich narrative, which offers a healthy amount of agency in how the story is shaped, with choices ranging from picking your own background and personal traits to the literal fate of some characters; rather than wanting to get through everything quickly, I found myself pleasantly surprised by the way the game rewards exploration and curiosity by giving you an extra piece of useful dialogue, a new interesting NPC, a visually different area. In a lot of ways, Pentiment is an exercise in subverting expectations, making use of all its elements to continuously punch above its perceived weight.

To tie it all together, the game anchors itself in an incredibly layered mystery, an imposing tale split into acts that span literal decades, superiorly threaded for the most part, with twists and turns and a strong ending and tons of attractive moments. Against this narrative backdrop, there are two things Pentiment does that I absolutely love: one is how it effortlessly involves your own thoughts and opinions in the actual interpretation of the world, and how that consequently influences the way story beats play out; the other is completely novel, or at least something I had never experienced in a game before, and that is how it handles meals. These are a very relevant aspect in most of your playthrough and a faithful depiction of the portrayed time period, during which they served an important social function. It is through meals, and the characters you choose to have them with, that you better interpret and assess the world and people around you. In a sense, they are the perfect in-game showcase of their real-life role as interaction tools from back in the day. Kudos to Pentiment for turning such a mundane event into a crucial moment of social exchange in a surprisingly elegant manner.
Not everything about the game is flawless, though. There is some narrative inconsistency noticeable on occasion - eg when you already spoke to an NPC about something and the game acts as if you didn’t, or at times as if those NPCs haven’t even interacted with you yet -, and there’s also a bit of a pacing and directing issues present in Act III, which sometimes feels a tad disjointed, repetitive and ‘handholdy’. But these are rare and infrequent instances of flaws within the game’s design, and do very little to bring down the overall experience.

Playing Pentiment, I was often reminded of Kingdom Come: Deliverance, my personal favourite game of all the ones I’ve played this year. Not only are there a lot of cross-cultural and historical references between both titles, the two games often feel like custom-made extensions of each other. KCD can be seen as the action RPG yin to Pentiment’s narrative-adventure yang, an amalgamation of genres perfectly blended and thrown into an ideologically consistent world. This, however, isn’t to say that Obsidian’s game lacks tension, just that this tension is seen and handled differently. In fact, there were moments in my playthrough that felt like absolute gut punches, which made me ponder on how remarkable it is that a game of such a seemingly static nature can command this much intensity at certain pivotal points. And in a tiny nutshell, I feel this is what best describes Pentiment: its ability to deliver genuine impact when, at first sight, it couldn’t possibly look more incapable of delivering it. 8.5/10