You don’t have to delve too far into the internet to realize that the game is hardly a bastion of happiness, which is reflected in every depressing beat of the score. Admittedly, it was sparse throughout, but when they chose to use music, it was pivotal in the narrative. Speaking of haunting, the soundtrack to Esther is downright fantastic. While providing an arresting visual element, it also adds a haunting resonance to the story, from that point forward. A perfect example of this would be the night time walk along the beach, which has an exquisite skybox displaying the low-hanging moon glistening off the water. The PS4’s remade visuals improve on previous iterations rather dramatically, while also not being so overwhelming that it distracts from the narrative. Fortunately, the hunt for the island’s inner beauty is damn near as compelling as the voice in the player’s head. Essentially it acts as a stunning backdrop that helps drive the exploration forward. Oddly enough, the vast majority of this meagerly populated world has very little to do with the actual storyline. Everything from picturesque cliffside vistas to glistening underground caves can be found around the isle. The island of Esther is the perfect location to set a walking simulator. For this reason, it is especially fun to sit though someone else’s playthrough and discuss their theories of what is going on as the action unfolds. Sure, the dialog itself is identical each session, but sometimes the order in which they are experienced can drastically impact your perception of the events. Ultimately, this results in a gameplay experience that is unique each and every time. These pre-defined set pieces are punctuated by the actual story, each part of which has a position that is generated at random. It is also used in several scenarios to explain what the bloody hell is happening with the odd wall etchings that are scattered all over the island. Scripted events take the form of descriptions of the island and its geographic formations. Amusingly enough, I would argue that this sort of textual diarrhea is actually how the story is portrayed to the player.Įvery piece of narration is presented in a surprisingly open manner, through the use of both random and scripted events. It wouldn’t do the game any justice to just spill it onto the page. Plus, to be quite frank, the story is Esther’s key reward. This is one of those things that you need to experience for yourself in order to truly appreciate what the developers have accomplished. However, I am still going to steer clear of discussing the actual plot points. I realize that this is an extremely old game. However, as the actual plotline begins to come into focus, the true meat of the game finally presents itself. It acts more as a way to set the scene and provide context to the weird formations that are scattered about the environment. The narrative starts out rather random and disconnected from the core plot. The story itself plays out via a narrated voiceover, which is activated while traversing the island on which the player is marooned. Yet despite the lack of interactivity, Dear Esther does a fantastic job of fleshing out the unknown, albeit vacant, world in which the player inhabits. It is amazing to consider that a title can sustain itself using sauntering as its only true gameplay component. The disjointed storytelling and exploration mechanics provided an interesting new way to immerse yourself in a storyline, while still maintaining some game-like elements. Upon my first playthrough of Esther back in 2008, my view on games as a narrative medium were dramatically impacted. Walking Simulators are rarely as boring as the name would imply. Dear Esther’s initial release heralded the creation of what many have come to call the “walking simulator.” Don’t worry.
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