A colorful platformer from the minds of Spanish company Nomada Studio, Gris tells the haunting story of a young girl coming to terms with losing her mother. To do this, she’s tasked with collecting light across several biomes. Which is where the theme of color comes in. Gris uses bold colors to both represent emotions and make astonishing landscapes to traverse. From blue-accented underwater caves to windy red sand deserts, each section uses striking mono or dual tones that make exploring the game a veritable treat, all underlit by a serene, contemplative soundtrack that I just had to download after finishing the game. As you progress you’ll become increasingly antagonized by black ink creatures, who serve as the sole foes of Gris, requiring puzzle-solving to evade or outright defeat them. I’m personally a fan of them. They provide brief bouts of tension to show the young girl’s inner turmoil in addition to pumping in a dose of urgency to your actions.

Whether I was escorting a newly-acquainted buddy across lush forests or running for my life through Greek architecture from giant crows, my interest never dipped, nor did confusion or frustration rear their heads. It might not be obvious at first the true goal of the game, but as you near the ending and the young girl regains her voice and thus her ability to sing, it becomes abundantly clear what she wishes for and finally gains. Peace with her mother’s passing. It’s a somber feeling to be certain, yet as the credits rolled and she ascended the clouds, it wasn’t despair I was feeling. It was contentment. The obvious contentment from playing an A+ game, but also a closure for the main character that couldn’t help but leave me hopeful. While the story leaves little room for a sequel, you better bet I wouldn’t hesitate to hop on that quicker than a fly on honey.