Sometimes a game comes along that leaves more than just a shallow impression. It lingers—emotionally, philosophically. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 was exactly that for me. What began as a visually stunning, mechanically tight RPG slowly became a lens through which I found myself reexamining some of my long-standing, fundamental assumptions about reality, time, loss, and the quiet stories behind people’s actions. It made me question everything, take life for granted less, and let go of my impulse to judge too quickly.
1. The Nature of Reality
As I played through Expedition 33, I found myself asking: How do we know what's real? The game’s world is vibrant, painterly—literally. The entire setting exists inside a painting, though not all characters are aware of this fact. It’s a world where perception shapes reality and where the rules of existence are dictated by a higher-order creator (the Paintress). That’s not just a clever narrative twist—it’s an existential question in disguise.
If your world is fabricated and you're unaware of it, are your feelings, relationships, and experiences still real? The characters in Expedition 33 love, grieve, and strive within a framework that they don’t fully understand. That made me wonder: Is our own understanding of reality just as incomplete?
Are we living in “base reality?” Is truth even possible? How can we ever be sure of anything? Clair Obscur doesn’t answer these questions, but it asks them in a way that stuck with me long after I finished the game and put the controller down.
2. Impermanence
The game opens with a gut punch: a sense that time is running out. The citizens of Lumière live in fear of being “gommaged”—erased by the Paintress. As a narrative device, it’s compelling. As a metaphor for real life, it’s devastatingly accurate.
We don’t know how much time we have—none of us. And while we may not fear a literal paintbrush wiping us away, our clocks are ticking away all the same. Watching the characters carry on with their lives, despite this looming threat, reminded me how many of us do the same: pretending we have time, waiting until it's convenient to express love, or pursue something that feels meaningful to us. Expedition 33 forced me to reckon with the question: If you knew you had only a little time left, how would you spend it?
3. Loss and Grief Shape Us
One of the strongest emotional currents in the game is grief. Characters move through their world burdened not just by the fear of death, but by the weight of who and what they've already lost. This isn’t a story that sidesteps pain; it folds it into the fabric of each characters' motivations and relationships.
The loss in Expedition 33 isn't just personal—it's existential. Entire realities vanish. People grieve not only for those they've lost, but for who they used to be before the loss. And just like in real life, those griefs guide decision-making, emotional regulation, and our sense of purpose.
It reminded me that grief is not a detour from the human experience—it is the road itself, at times. And it's one of the great unspoken forces shaping how we act and react.
4. The Danger of Quick Judgments
One of the most moving subplots involves a father making impossible decisions to protect his family. At first glance, his actions are harsh—even villainous. But as the story unfolds, you begin to understand what drives him: fear, loss, love. When seen through the narrow lens of judgment, he’s a monster. But through the wider lens of empathy, he’s just a person doing his best in a collapsing world.
This was a really eye-opening moment in the game for me.
We’re all external observers to other people’s lives. We rarely know the full context—what they’ve lost, what they’re protecting, what fears they carry. And yet, we judge, often quickly and harshly.
This part of the game reminded me how often people act from a place of sincere, if flawed, love. That doesn’t mean every action is justified. But it does mean we owe each other a pause and a breath at times - a moment to ask: What might I not be seeing here?
If Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is about anything, it’s about the hidden layers of existence—both in the game world and in ourselves. It’s a reminder that we’re more fragile, more layered, and more connected than we often allow ourselves to believe. It made me reflect, reconsider, and drop some of my automatic, preconceived notions about the world.
And that’s the rarest kind of game. I hope this game continues to get the attention it deserves. It’s absolutely my game of the year for 2025 (thus far).