Fri. Sep 5th, 2025

A Philosophical Cocktail Beyond BioShock and NieR: Why Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Might Have the Best Story of the Decade

Rewriting a spoiler-free review for the French masterpiece, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, was a challenge akin to verbally describing a parachute jump. Attempting such a thankless task felt like trying to capture the essence of a profound sensory experience with mere words. Now that players have had the chance to decide whether they wish to dive into the captivating world of the `Expedition`, we can move on to the main course, savoring each original discovery within this astonishing narrative.

A note to those who haven`t completed the game: this analysis contains significant spoilers. We strongly encourage you to first immerse yourself in the Artist`s world before returning here in an attempt to fully grasp the unfolding events. Alternatively, proceed at your own risk, but do not complain about spoilers – they will be present throughout.

What exactly constitutes a “story game”? Presumably, it`s something centered around its narrative. After all, lists focusing on this theme regularly feature titles like BioShock, The Last of Us, and Red Dead Redemption—games renowned for their powerful personal journeys. These are stories so expertly structured, with such precise emphasis placed on key moments, that they feel readily adaptable for the screen. While some might dismiss these as “interactive cinema,” Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 arrives to demonstrate that achieving `absolute cinema` within a game doesn`t require completely disregarding gameplay.

The `Expedition` distinguishes itself among games of the decade, not least because it was created by developers who left Ubisoft, choosing creative expression over monotonous production lines. It feels more akin to titles from 15 or 20 years ago, before rigid gaming formulas solidified, when developers experimented freely, trying everything to carve out their place. The palpable enthusiasm they poured into the project is evident everywhere, especially in the story. The narrative turns here can be described in many ways—elevated, daring, mind-blowing—but never ordinary or predictable. This becomes clear from the very beginning.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 isn`t eager to reveal its secrets to players. The prologue and first act primarily aim to lay out as many mysteries as possible. Yet, this mystique isn`t merely for show; you can gather substantial information about the current situation from the start, provided you actively seek it. Moreover, the initial tragedy feels rather detached if you don`t first engage with the brief introductory segment playing as Sophie, accompanied by a cast of seemingly `decorative` NPCs.

These NPCs are `decorative` in the best possible sense. Unlike, say, in Genshin Impact, where NPCs often serve little purpose beyond keeping the player engaged in the world, the small pool of non-player characters in Clair Obscur is constrained by both mission and time. Lore needs to be conveyed concisely and vividly. Disagreements over a child, the impending fatal expedition, Sophie and her pupils` farewell gift—all this is sufficient within a mere half-hour of meeting the characters to make you shudder at the sight of Gustave`s beloved dissolving due to the Gommage.

The horror doesn`t stem from overtly tragic moments but from the sheer, everyday inevitability faced by the city`s inhabitants. Just ten minutes before the Gommage, Maël is casually giggling, poking Gustave`s shoulder, and joking about his ex-lover being about to turn to dust. Turning such a terrible event into a celebration, sending an expedition to its death with songs and dances, rushing to conceive children to maximize time with them—with such groundwork laid, there`s no need for artificial drama or forced tears. The Gommage itself speaks volumes for the characters.

Subsequent events bear some resemblance to Dragon Age: Origins. A few warm conversations with the expedition members, people the protagonist has lived alongside his entire life, and the squad is instantly torn apart. This destruction isn`t abstract or off-screen; you are forced to walk among piles of dead bodies—those of your companions mixed with corpses from previous expeditions—to fully grasp the naivety and futility of their mission. A Lumina converter? Gustave immediately understands the terrible price paid and takes responsibility, seeing no alternative but suicide out of despair. Fortunately, Luné is nearby—a figure of walking pragmatism. By convincing him to search for survivors, Gustave later finds a new motivation: saving Maël.

Interesting fact: If you re-watch the island landing scene after your first playthrough, you`ll see Verso saving Maël during the massacre on the shore.

From this point forward, Gustave and Luné`s interactions showcase top-tier dramatic writing, something often missing from modern BioWare with its polished, sterile characters. Luné, the pragmatic scientist, prioritizes common sense above all else; searching for Maël in dangerous wilds clearly contradicts the logic of survival on an unknown island. Gustave, conversely, is intensely emotional; for him, Maël is like a daughter, a sister, the most precious person from the expedition. Against this contrast, our adventurers manage to quarrel dozens of times along the way, showering each other with insults, not to mention regular interruptions, teasing, and jabs. This alone makes them feel far more alive than the theatrical figures in many RPGs who artificially recite their entire biographies to the player.

Here too, we are treated to campfire chats, but they feel less like a coworker reciting their resume and more like spontaneous outbursts of accumulated stories. And with two different protagonists, this character chemistry reaches a new level, ultimately exploding in the climax. However, that is still far away.

At this stage, the game has presented the world`s primary problem and broadly outlined the plan for its resolution. All that remains is to infuse it with mysteries and lore, which is precisely what the encounter in the Mansion signifies—a true narrative jewel of Clair Obscur. The Mansion simultaneously serves as an inscrutable enigma, a lore compendium, and a massive spoiler. Yet, grasping its meaning from the outset requires extraordinary insight. The Mansion, the Curator, and Renoir—all must be pieced together bit by bit to form a cohesive plot. No one holds your hand through the world`s secrets, and this detail makes the story`s resolution so engaging. With the player hooked on the narrative intrigue, the introduction to the Jestral village and Ciel follows.

A full description of the exquisite charm of the Jestral culture would require more than three articles. In short, the Jestrals are depicted as simple and strong, but this characteristic can be played with in fascinating ways. By elevating it into a life philosophy, the trope of “simple strength,” constantly inverted during conversations with these walking brushes, creates the distinct impression that the only truly simple-minded individuals in this abode of intellect are Gustave and his companions.

The brilliance lies in the fact that these eccentric beings can connect *anything* to fighting—theater, medicine, even philosophy itself. Ultimately, every sphere of human life functions differently for them, causing even this limited set of distinguishing traits to make you feel like you are encountering a fundamentally distinct culture. Logic, motivation, worldview—for the Jestrals, everything is turned upside down, undoubtedly facilitated by their immortality. They cannot be described as mere humans dressed up as another race; they are truly an entirely different universe of geniuses.

On the other hand, what can one expect when the Jestrals are a creation of Verso`s childhood fantasy? This applies to the entire world of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33: it remains illogical and surreal only until it becomes clear that it`s all one large painting. And it`s not a uniform painting—alongside Verso`s childish whims, the wild monsters of Clea and the caricatured characters of Alina have found their place. Therefore, one corner might feature jokes and playful banter, while another holds cruel and hideous death, symbolizing the stark difference between the child`s world and the adult`s.

The theme of painting is also overtly hinted at, though it might not be easily understood by every player without delving into the subject. You see, “gommage” means “to erase with an eraser.” “Clair Obscur” translates to “light-dark,” an artistic technique that defines the distribution of light and dark areas, creating the perception of volume and relief. And “Lumière” means “light.” Scattered throughout the world are artistic “Workshops,” which you`ll quickly gain access to, though completing their challenges may be nearly impossible. Still, the ambiance is quite telling, wouldn`t you agree?

The final push before the end of the first act involves searching for Esquier. Aside from being inherently comical, this segment also includes side scenes in the camp featuring Maël`s nightmares. Alicia and Renoir begin to revolve intensely around her, hinting to the attentive player that Maël`s significance in the lore will be no less than Gustave`s. Half an hour later, the first act concludes, and we learn that this shift in focus was deliberate. However, there will be no time left for us to say goodbye to Gustave.

Boldness. It requires incredible narrative boldness to kill off the unfortunate Gustave at the end of the very first act. So little time has passed, his backstory was meticulously crafted, his relationships with companions developed—all for what? Precisely to make his loss hurt us more. Now, Gustave`s mission, dreams, and legacy are transferred to the young Maël, who is on the verge of breaking down from everything that has befallen her. Meanwhile, we are tasked with controlling the mysterious stranger, Verso, who is also somehow connected to the current plot antagonist, the Artist. Empathy seems to have left the building.

Or has it? It only seems so at first glance. Gustave and Verso represent two sides of the same coin for the player: the comfort zone and the frightening unknown. As sacrilegious as it sounds, switching protagonists ultimately functions as entertainment; it prevents the player from growing bored watching the hundredth scene of Gustave skipping stones and talking about his utopian dreams.

Verso is a character with a much deeper and multi-layered conflict. He deceives not only his newly found squad but also the player multiple times. Each time, you might think, “What a scoundrel, how could he do that!”, but the condemnation mixed with sympathy only lasts until his final revelation, leaving you with nothing but the urge to apologize to a character with such a tragic fate.

However, at the beginning of the second act, we still don`t know what to expect from him, so each of his eccentric actions adds more fuel to the fire of intrigue. Verso`s mysteriousness motivates us to spend more time in the camp, where he shares his own secrets with the team. Here, it`s not entirely clear whether Renoir`s son is truly weary of existence or, conversely, dreams of a joyful and carefree life that his difficult fate has denied him. Scenes of the painted Dessandr family disputes and the new party member Monoko don`t significantly clarify the situation.

Quite the opposite: they create a distinct sense of dissonance in the perception of Verso. On one hand, both Esquier and Monoko speak highly of him, and his increased care for Maël is undeniable. But at the same time, he traveled with many expeditions that were ultimately destroyed by Renoir. And then, in Maël`s recent nightmare, he`s shown impaling his comrade on a blade. Perhaps the issue is that in the decisive moment, he won`t be able to choose against his family? The answer to this question cannot be known in advance, especially with his signature line, “Family is complicated.” Such contradictory protagonists are truly one in a million.

The player`s only recourse is to try and piece together the puzzle in their mind while fighting Axons and making their way to the Artist. At the moment of destroying the painted Renoir, the most astute players might already guess what`s happening. Personally, at that moment, I felt acutely like a Jestral, sensing a clear trick but unable to imagine how the initial conflict would turn 180 degrees. The final emphasis is placed by Alicia`s letter—it becomes clear why Verso was the only one not happy about the Artist`s defeat and the return to Lumière.

Structurally, the second act fundamentally differs from the first. Its purpose is not so much to introduce the player to the situation as to deceive them, a task facilitated by the unpredictable protagonist. By leveraging Verso`s close connection to all participants, the writers can constantly maneuver between honest revelations and unspoken secrets, from the `musketeer` unity of the squad to the tragedy of the painted relatives. At this point, the game expertly takes us on an emotional rollercoaster, leading us to its central philosophical dilemma.

Two families, two worlds, two universes. Which side to choose when each has its own truth? The developers deliberately reveal nothing about the real world to prevent facile comparisons. No, the question here is entirely different: “A sweet lie or a harsh truth?” While this might seem to bring the drama down from unattainable heights to `Matrix`-level motifs, the creative context imbues the story with a much deeper and tragic nuance, as it raises the question of human legacy itself.

Is a future where creative abilities reach a new level far off? Artificial intelligence is already capable of generating whatever one desires, albeit not yet at a consistently impressive level. But give it another 100-200 years, and VR worlds with terrifyingly accurate detail will cease to be fantasy. What if we reach a point where every person can give life to their own universe, populating it with characters possessing their own feelings and fears?

Something among these will be primary, something secondary, but determining the order won`t be easy. Even now, neural networks can produce unexpected results during generation, and when they operate with much larger volumes of information, creating something (or someone) outside the author`s intent and control will be even easier. Just imagine characters who could potentially be more alive, vibrant, and authentic than real people, especially if humanity degrades as a species due to increasing ease of life. Would we have the right to judge someone merely on the grounds of being their creator, and where would this lead us?

Verso versus Alicia. The internet is already filled with debates about who is right and who is wrong. For some, Verso is selfish and snobbish: a person who sacrificed an entire world simply to relieve himself of a burden of responsibility. Others cannot stand Alicia: an infantile, unsuccessful girl who couldn`t find her place in life, choosing eternal escape from problems by hiding behind the salvation of an imaginary world. But the focus is that they are not all that different. Both younger Dessandrs are quite selfish, as they place their own interests above the interests of their family.

But are both Renoirs selfish? They fight for the lives of their loved ones against all odds. Yes, these are still *their* ideas of their relatives` happiness, so one could argue they are seeking self-satisfaction. But the *real* Renoir ultimately compromised his principles for his daughter`s happiness. As the painted Dessandr father asked, “Who here is truly painting life, and who is painting death?”

There`s no need to even mention Clea—the poor girl had the misfortune of being the only rational one in a family of eccentric creators, and nature, as if to spite her, endowed her with an astonishing talent. Clea is another contrasting personality, without whom Alicia`s conflict would be incomplete. The overlooked one, fading in her genius sister`s shadow; the unhappy girl blaming herself for her brother`s death; the “little one” not taken seriously by her parents—the more such details are revealed in a character`s background, the more convincing they become.

When characters draw their blades, it signifies a contradiction between them that cannot be resolved otherwise. From a spectator`s viewpoint, it`s always easy to say that Verso could have stopped agonizing, grabbed Ciel and Luné, and enjoyed the painted landscapes, or that Alicia merely needed to visit the Canvas occasionally, balancing creative and personal life. But saying this is to ignore the entire backstory of the characters, the intertwining circumstances that led them to a point where death became more desirable than living in an unwanted world.

Even after the main characters clash, there remains an audience dissatisfied with the ending, claiming it invalidates everything fought for, and what is the meaning of it all if we ultimately live in a “dog`s dream”? To some extent, the average viewer`s confusion is understandable; they are dismayed by the simple injustice born of creative people`s egoism. But let`s not forget that all achievements in our world also stem from egoistic creative individuals; we just don`t know the price that was paid for them.

Alina gave life to an entire new world. She simultaneously protects her son`s legacy and drives herself mad. This is a trait shared by all characters in Clair Obscur—each carries their own burden, but they cannot cope with it and simply run. The painted Alicia runs from conflict, Alina from loss, Verso from the truth. But you can only run for so long. In the end, the most resilient must prove their truth, determining the fate of all others. Yet, this choice will not be dictated by the greater good, but by the right of the strong, as our heroes remain ordinary, weak, and sinful humans, not some imperturbable superheroes capable of rising above the world. The main duo concludes the story in this manner.

This is the wonder of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33`s unparalleled story—there is no single right answer. There is no universal manual or cheat sheet that allows everything to be resolved happily for everyone. Each person has their own truth. Each situation has its nuances. And only skilled artists can reflect this entire ambiguous palette in their work. This is a game about a world built on the suffering of a deceased boy. About characters living on unfulfilled illusions. Each of them makes mistakes, but it is precisely this fallibility that grants the *painted* characters the right to become human.

By Callum Darby

Callum Darby, 34, based in Manchester. A former semi-professional Dota 2 player who transitioned into journalism. Specializes in statistical match analysis and tournament result predictions.

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