Reviews from

in the past


Living trapped in your own body, always wondering what the incentive is to keep moving forward, even with nothing very hopeful happening other than the prayers of those who love you well, even though you are oblivious to everything and everyone and even yourself, you continue to believe in that hope which serves as a palliative between pain and death,
but you are doing well, living, trying, striving. You've already won and your prize is tomorrow, congratulations.

I was on the edge of my seat the whole way through. Completely invested and holding out hope like you wouldn't believe. I guess there was some catharsis in the end, although I've felt it happened at a rather miscellaneous time... I can see the merit, life at its finest.

It's nuts how much engagement one can feel about a game spelling out for you that nothing you'll do matters. But still feels interactive. That's one of its merits as a work in the video game medium, for that I'm glad to set this rating so high despite the lack of...content. The UI being so similar to Disco Elysium is not the best or worst thing, I like the style and you should too!

This game puts you in pretty much the most horrifying position I can imagine; being unable to interact with the world.
For its relatively short runtime (took me 30 minutes), the game deals with a lot of interesting issues. While it doesn't end up having anything groundbreaking, I think the overall premise as well as the writing are worth checking out

It's clear from just a glance that Dormin, developer of "A Hint Of Purple" has played and enjoyed Disco Elysium. Taking DE's general character artstyle and text system is not at all a bad or hollow idea, these are loved for a reason and indeed AHofP is not trying to be DE. Its a visual novel rather than an RPG which uses the dramatic device of being "stuck in one's own head" to tell a very compelling narrative.

This is one of those games which is hard to write much about because its short (30mins) and I genuinely want more people to play it (its free on steam) so I think I'll just drop a spoiler warning here, please come back to read the rest of it and maybe even start a bit of a discussion about it.

AHoP does a rather clever thing in recognition of an issue a lot of branching narrative games fall into where they struggle with the balance of providing a nebulously defined "meaningful" choice and keeping the scope of the game manageable.

There are people for e.g who accused Pentiment of "Your Choices dont matter!" and I genuinely wonder what the hell those people are talking about. In conversation with Disco Elysium and Pentiment and the like, which are games less about how you bend the world to the will of you, the player and more about how your character reacts and approaches this world. AHoP goes for a risky gambit : Your character is a victim of an accident only alluded to at first, who has become totally paralyzed from the neck down, requiring 24/7 care and being unable to speak or communicate, even.

I can definitely see some who would dislike this dynamic, your character being unable to speak, pretty much all dialogue choices amount to how your character is thinking about the people around her, unable to meaningfully reply to any of them. As strange as it sounds however, there is still meaning to be found in this, the cast of strangers who's lives we get smaller or bigger glimpses of appreciating someone who will just listen to them, implied poetic justice for a character who was previously forceful and self centered.

This last point is of course where I imagine the game will lose a lot of you. Personally I found it compelling and it worked, but I can begrudgingly admit it will come across as a bit trite to some. And even I have to admit theres one or two small moments where I thought the game was going to shit the bed but thankfully never did.

There are also flashbacks from before the accident in which you have more explicit control in how she dealt with these issues whilst still within the bounds of her implied personality in the present, which strikes that golden balance of player and author collaboration that this medium is all about

Its not just people who are alone, who are struggling with work, growing old, abusive partners and having to grieve the loss of a loved one who is still alive and denying closure through continuing to live.

There's just something fascinating about it, the vicarious grief, anger, desesperation of not being in control of your body and seeing your partner ruin their chances at happiness by taking care of you, the seemingly vestigial Disco Elysium element of speaking to your prefrontal cortex who has their own voice. I think the highest compliment I can give this game is that when I'm done writing this I want to play it again to see If I can understand what I might have missed the first time around. Also that it made me tear up a bit; and that the music is good.

P.S I love you Maude and I hope your boyfriend makes a full recovery

Don't mind me, I'm just bawling my eyes out over the squeak of a toy...

Captivating... no... rather, terrifyingly captivating, yes, I think that's the better term, the one I'd use to describe A Hint of Purple. Such a profoundly personal and deeply saddening tale that grabbed and didn’t let me go until the very last words was said, and one that in spite of its brevity manages to say so much and making some really smart decisions in the process.

One thing is to take player interactivity, the thing that characterizes the videogame medium as a whole, and use it against the player itself to make feel powerless, and another thing is to extrapolate it to this setting, this terrible and terrifying situation to be in, one in which it you cannot move nor speak, being at the mercy of those around you and the memories of the past, haunting you in your dreams, which is at least better than the coldness of nothingness. It doesn’t matter what you say or choose to express, nobody knows it and nobody can react. Not even the void pays mind to your words. It puts you in the shoes of Maya, it makes you feel the same pain and anguish without fully really knowing her, and it makes you value the little snippets of the outside beyond the hospital room, to value getting to see a new beautifully painted new portrait, and getting to know that person whether it’s through memories or revelations; but also fearing when seeing something inhumane, barely distinguishable, to abstract to be familiar. There’s only one voice who can hear you and to whom you can tall back, but it’s not a really amicable correspondence, and it merely exist to remarks Maya’s struggles and insecurity, to torture her even more in this nightmare. It’s all beautifully narrated, all wonderfully shown to the point of uncomfortably; Maya is a prisoner of her own body, and you are too, and your hopes of improvement is only met with coldness.

Is between those moments of anguish, those small interactions with Kai and their own struggles, and the flashbacks that showcase more of them two and their relationship, that gives meaning to the unfinished portraits and explores Maya’s character even more, those moments are what make A Hint of Purple so special as much as the oppressive nature of everything surrounding it. The anxiety and calmness take turns with one another, or maybe it would be more correct to say that they dance with one another, sometimes blending, and is in those explorations of pain, of fear and self-discovery in which the humanity is seen, where the voice is quite and there’s only room for smiling or tearing up, maybe even both at the same time. Nobody really wins in this story, and some struggles go unheard for everyone but you, some characters not even getting the beginning of being heard of that they yearn for; but it’s a story about changing, about the pass, about the present, about hearing and seeing, a story of love and art indeed, but for ones self as well as for others.

Even in the final moments of the game, even with Maya gets a moment of respite despite all, nothing truly ends. Life moves on, and the last inkling of information we get is that hopefully, for the better. Curious, isn’t it? In a game in which you can’t really do anything or even be heard, the connection you can feel with it is enormous.

Beautiful in every way, and the amazing collection of tracks doesn’t do anything but help its case even more; a look into a sad reality, one that feels both afar and close, one that I don’t feel ashamed of tearing up over it.

Really great for what it is trying to be, and explores some really interesting topics while being visually appealing and having generally well-written characters.
My only issue with it is that the idea of not listening to partners and loved ones, a topic I think is very important and needs more exploration of this kind, is kind of handwaved. Maya basically flips a switch and simply decided to listen to people from now on, and her issues are solved. I think this could've been expanded on by having the prefrontal cortex continue to be self-depricating, and put it at the feet of the audience to "filter" those comments out and select the dialogue option which shows you are actively trying to listen to the other person. Maya is clearly dealing with a lot of self-hatred and zoning out, and issues like these are not fixed overnight. They require constant effort from Maya's side.

Besides that critique, I have little to complain about. Interested to see how Dormin's writing and art style translate over into their upcoming game "Locator"!

I'll post here the same thing I said on steam:
Taking into account how often videogames tend to be bloated, "content filled"messes that serve to their audience the same purpose that a set of dangling keys serves to a baby; and how they reduce narrative and dramaturgy, the main pillars of basically any other art, as a barely coherent glue to try to hold said mess together, it feels good when one can play a game that offers not only an unique approach to storytelling, but also a narratively satisfying one, without having to sink a hundred hours on it.