There are a couple of moments in Chicory that I’ll probably remember the rest of my life, and I feel the need to discuss what they are below. This includes some light story spoilers for the first half of the game (no major plot twists or anything, though), so if you already know you’re going to play this game, you might want to skip to the end of the Minor Spoiler Zone below.
MINOR SPOILER ZONE
Relatively earlier in the game, your character, Pizza, asks her idol, legendary painter Chicory, to draw her portrait. Chicory obliges but says she’ll only do it if you draw her first. At this point, you’re prompted to draw Chicory. I’ve certainly never been great at drawing, but I genuinely tried my best. And my best looked like a bunch of childish scribbles.
Regardless of what you draw, Chicory is impressed, and then draws you, and what she draws is…well, excellent. Far better than anything the player could’ve done. And that moment hit me like a dagger to the heart. Because I’ve had this feeling before. This feeling that I’m just trash at what I do, and I’ll never measure up to others. That I made it as far as I have in my field through luck and a nice smile. That feeling that my friends and family clearly think I’m more clever and more talented than I actually am, because it’s not like I’m particularly good at anything.
And then I realized that was the point of this entire segment. It’s obvious that Greg Lobanov, the creator of Chicory, has had the same feeling. And so have literally millions of other people.
Later on, you find the portrait you drew hung in Chicory’s room. Ultimately, it doesn’t quite matter how you felt about it, because it’s obvious Chicory loved it regardless.
OKAY IT’S SAFE NOW
If I can describe 2021 in a single word, it would be exhausting. Not always bad, and not always good, but always exhausting. Having spent too much time in isolation and repetition, it’s been too easy for me to get lost in my own thoughts. Particularly the ones where I start to wonder if I can keep up whatever façade I’ve built to make people like me.
Then I played Chicory, and realized what should have been obvious to me all along. These feelings were never just mine.
Chicory is a game about how everyone has struggles that they deal with in private, even those who seem to be basically perfect. And while it’s natural to want to keep your pain to yourself and hide it, there’s more people than you think who understand and truly want to help. And they have their own struggles, too.
While Chicory’s adorable aesthetic, whimsical music, and clever Zelda-style puzzle solving are all strong points in its favor, what really made it so memorable for me was the writing. Sometimes you play the right game at the right time and then it’s all you can think about. For me, that was Chicory.
Also the game encourages you to name Pizza after your favorite food. So for me, she’ll always be Dumplings.
MINOR SPOILER ZONE
Relatively earlier in the game, your character, Pizza, asks her idol, legendary painter Chicory, to draw her portrait. Chicory obliges but says she’ll only do it if you draw her first. At this point, you’re prompted to draw Chicory. I’ve certainly never been great at drawing, but I genuinely tried my best. And my best looked like a bunch of childish scribbles.
Regardless of what you draw, Chicory is impressed, and then draws you, and what she draws is…well, excellent. Far better than anything the player could’ve done. And that moment hit me like a dagger to the heart. Because I’ve had this feeling before. This feeling that I’m just trash at what I do, and I’ll never measure up to others. That I made it as far as I have in my field through luck and a nice smile. That feeling that my friends and family clearly think I’m more clever and more talented than I actually am, because it’s not like I’m particularly good at anything.
And then I realized that was the point of this entire segment. It’s obvious that Greg Lobanov, the creator of Chicory, has had the same feeling. And so have literally millions of other people.
Later on, you find the portrait you drew hung in Chicory’s room. Ultimately, it doesn’t quite matter how you felt about it, because it’s obvious Chicory loved it regardless.
OKAY IT’S SAFE NOW
If I can describe 2021 in a single word, it would be exhausting. Not always bad, and not always good, but always exhausting. Having spent too much time in isolation and repetition, it’s been too easy for me to get lost in my own thoughts. Particularly the ones where I start to wonder if I can keep up whatever façade I’ve built to make people like me.
Then I played Chicory, and realized what should have been obvious to me all along. These feelings were never just mine.
Chicory is a game about how everyone has struggles that they deal with in private, even those who seem to be basically perfect. And while it’s natural to want to keep your pain to yourself and hide it, there’s more people than you think who understand and truly want to help. And they have their own struggles, too.
While Chicory’s adorable aesthetic, whimsical music, and clever Zelda-style puzzle solving are all strong points in its favor, what really made it so memorable for me was the writing. Sometimes you play the right game at the right time and then it’s all you can think about. For me, that was Chicory.
Also the game encourages you to name Pizza after your favorite food. So for me, she’ll always be Dumplings.
FallenGrace
2 years ago