Colours of Grief | GRIS
“So many colours I’ve discovered, make up the griever’s soul, so many emotions to encounter, in an attempt to make us whole” - Christine Bevington
Grief. It’s a sore journey but one that most of us must endure. As natural as it is visceral, the pain that comes hand in hand with loss is often hard to explain to those that have not experienced it before. Perhaps that’s because it looks different for everyone. It can be slow and spread out like a thin sheen, or tumble in and out like the ocean tides, or it can slam into you with the force of an avalanche, leaving you buried and gasping for air. Time may dull the wounds, but they are still very present, scars seen only by the self, or by those that understand. Gris is a stunning game by Nomada Studios, that shows us this journey, through the pain of a girl in a world bereft of colour. We are partisan to her healing process, watching as despair slowly melts away, and flowers bloom in its place. To play Gris is to fully immerse ourselves in her intense emotions, and to emerge a little healed ourselves.
Screenshot by TeaRain via steamcommunity.com
Spoiler Warning
The story of Gris is less so a story, than it is an experience. Regardless if you know what happens or not, there is no preparing you for the gorgeous atmosphere that this game entails. Even so, if you wish to dive into the game fresh faced, I suggest doing so now and coming back later, or skipping to the ☀️.
From the moment we begin the game it is apparent that this will be an emotional experience. Gris, the protagonist, attempts to sing, but her voice falters and the statue she stands on crumbles about her. She plunges into a derelict and grayscale world, where we accompany her as she starts to recover. It is revealed eventually that the statue she stands upon is the figure of a woman. While their exact relationship is unclear, a secret ending demonstrates that she is likely a motherly-figure of a sort, and their love for each other is strong. As Gris traverses this world, it starts to change its colours and we come to learn that they represent the five stages of grief, grey being denial, red being anger, green as bargaining, blue as depression and yellow being acceptance. Though not a word is spoken, a lot is said in just the brief pauses in which she takes a breath, her desperate attempts to sing again, her weightless and succumbing tumble to the ground. We meet various creatures, some of which are full of malice tasked only with pulling Gris into the depths of despair, while others are sources of joy, offering help and companionship through all the dangers (the turtle bro… ugh… if you know you know). As the last efforts of her enemies drag her under, she is saved by the statue of the woman, singing back to her as she finds her voice. The colours return to the world, banishing the shadows and healing her heart, and we see Gris follow a trail of stars into whatever lies beyond.
☀️
Screenshot by -Liberty- via steamcommunity.com
Gris is one of those games that holds such a powerful message through animation, music and world building alone. There is no need for dialogue or explanation to understand how we are meant to interpret the story. Though perhaps that is also because how we interpret the story is up to us. Is it a girl grappling with the heaviness of grief after the loss of her mother, or is it a mother struggling to let go of her painful past? Is it Gris who is dying, or the mother, or is Gris a personification of grief itself? None of these are wrong, and none of these are right. All that matters is that we feel how we are to feel, no obligations, no expectations. It is such a personal thing to begin with, what we do with it is ours and ours alone.
Regardless of how you interpret the story, there is no doubt that the craftsmanship behind this short indie game is truly impressive. The art style is reminiscent of watercolour paintings, and that’s because they are literally watercolour paintings, created by hand of artist Conrad Roset and then inserted into the game. The score matches the melancholy beauty of the art, and as the paint bleeds together, we feel the crescendo of the orchestra, as if the composer gathered up their pain and let it escape from their soul as music. This is a perfect example of why some indie titles are more akin to artworks than video games, the sheer beauty of the experience is enough to testify to that. But by no means does this take away from the actual gameplay which is incredibly ingenuitive, with unique mechanics and puzzles that I have never seen before. Each level adds another layer to the already fascinating level designs without becoming repetitive or stale. The addition of the other characters especially gives life to the game in ways that truly made my heart flutter in response.
Screenshot by Ghosts95 via steamcommunity.com
The beauty of Gris is interwoven throughout the story, the mechanics, the art, the music, each and every second of gameplay. I’ve played many beautiful games, but this one is one of my favourites, just for its simple ability to visualise grief and the healing process in an intense emotional way that bleeds into the real world without focussing on the tragedy itself. There’s something about it that feels warm within a cold world, a brightness through shadow, a speck of colour surrounded by gray. It’s a delicate reminder that the process is not elimination, it’s endurance until the darkness cannot stick anymore.
Gris is a stunning indie game developed in Spain by Nomada Studio and painted by the hand of artist Conrad Roset, perfectly encapsulating the ability of games to transcend the ‘video game’ metric into an interactive art piece. Play this little beauty on steam -> here.
