It's difficult to let go. Afraid of leaving loved ones behind, unsure of personal legacy, stumbling blindfolded with one hand out, dreading the sensation of fingertips first brushing against the veil, of falling slowly out of control and into the esoteric Aether - sometimes a push is needed. Letting go is difficult, but inevitable.

In Death's Door, the player embodies this push. A literal reaper that ushers bloated, fearful souls into the afterlife, the Crow protagonist travels through a fairytale world by solving puzzles, obtaining upgrades, and kicking ass. The combat in Death's Door draws from both Zelda and Dark Souls for inspiration - though a more apt comparison might be a more streamlined and balanced version of Hyper Light Drifter. Movement is responsive and smooth, allowing for full control during fights and puzzles, as well as pleasant world traversal. Backtracking is mostly optional in Death's Door, but necessary in order to upgrade spells and unlock secrets, so having excellent controls is a big win.

Encounter design is also fantastic and manages to find a balance between challenging combat and fairness - I never once felt as if a death came from something unavoidable, but rather my mistakes that I could then use to improve. The dodge has generous i-frames from the beginning and gains more as it is upgraded, which makes solving the puzzles of boss movesets fairly forgiving. In addition, Death's Door encourages using the entire arsenal of tools available by making ranged attacks refill through melee hits and providing certain enemies with resistances and weaknesses to specific damage types. Of the five melee weapons available none play drastically different, but the general pace and variety of combat are enough to keep it fresh still. Boss fights also do a fantastic job of evolving and adapting as combat unfolds, providing new challenge as you get closer and closer to victory. Failing to defeat a boss just means another chance to solve the puzzle, and checkpoints exist directly outside of the arenas to stave off frustration.

Each bosses design oozes with the same charm that typifies the art direction of Death's Door. Areas exist as their own biome while being linked together through the central area of the cemetery, and though they are all unique, the world still feels consistent. Part of this consistency is achieved through the enchanting score and sound design. While the visuals are cute, and movement through the world feels smooth, the score takes it to another level and breathes life into the levels. Similarly, small touches like the sound of little crows' feet on the different surfaces in the game add to the immersion and charm. These touches, when combined with puzzles that utilize your spells and test your creativity, make each level fun to explore. Rarely do I wish that a game was longer, but I do actually think Death's Door would be well-served with one more area and boss to explore and defeat.

All of these artistic choices serve to support the narrative and characters of Death's Door. Though the story is quite simple, the presentation of the game's overall aesthetic causes each character to exist as simultaneously humorous and tragic, with a gravitas that wouldn't be achievable if played in a more realistic setting. The conclusion of the narrative is surprisingly poignant and touching in a greater-than-the-sum-of-its-parts way. Though Death's Door does have a focus on combat, there is no malice involved; it's simply a means to help your adversaries do what they cannot bear to do themselves - let go.

The vibes are immaculate, I have to give it that. The narrative and aesthetic are pretty enjoyable despite the rushed ending. But the main problem I have with this is just the meander feeling that this game has. While I love how expressive the character's dialogue can be, it tends to mask a lot of hints or just takes its place entirely, making me just be completely lost super easily and a lot of puzzles involving a lot of running around get confusing really quick because of this. A lot of the puzzles make sense on paper, which is rare for an adventure game like this, but the way it's executed just kinda leaves a lot of matches really hazy. This game needed a bit more for me, but I'm sure it's clear by now that I'm a dumbass and most people have a lot more fun with this game, so definitely take it on if you're up for it, you'll at least enjoy the visuals and the fun story, guaranteed.

It's clear that we've moved on from this. Meta-narratives that make the game "sentient" and talk directly to the player have been a trope of the indie dev scene for a short period of time, under a decade. It was run into the ground mostly because of how popular and ever-present the youtube let's play scene was, and this kind of story was perfect for reaction content with a demographic of teenagers and young adults. None were like Stanley Parable though, for better or for worse.

So when a sequel for a game that criticized the monotony of desk jobs and the false sense of choice we have in our lives was announced, people were pretty skeptical. I mean I wasn't, I had faith, but this could easily be not good. We've moved on, new content doesn't seem as new or exciting as a concept because of this culture we left behind. But oh did they know. They knew exactly what we were doing.

The idea of sequels has been severely tainted by American entertainment. They are cash-grabs, sell-outs, rehashes, and they only serve the purpose to milk as much money out of a successful franchise as possible. The cynical fuckers over at Crows Crows Crows introduce you to "new content" with a door that says "new content", until later when it says "new, new content" with a flashy neon sign. Through constant convoluted mechanics that don't do anything, and long one-sided conversations with the narrator, you get more of the different same. The pressure of pleasing everyone around you, the weight of a legacy holding creativity down, the public outcry determining what you make next, and the sad truth that no, this isn't a "good" sequel, all comes together to make me breathe out of my nose a bit and think on how I go about creating. It doesn't matter, really.