Clair Obscur gripped me within the first minutes of its dramatic prologue. A turn-based RPG with a Belle Époque, steampunky aesthetic and a bleak world of monsters and magic? I know they say not to put a hat on a hat, but when that hat’s a beret… magnifique. The story opens with the people of Lumière celebrating its annual get-together where the Paintress, a sobbing giant beyond the city’s shores, etches a number into a cliff, and hundreds of onlookers immediately evaporate into petals and smoke.
The morbid cold open leads to our protagonists, Gustav and Maelle, joining Expedition 33: a task force sailing to the home of the Paintress to end her yearly ritual. The heroic journey quickly becomes a sinister death march, one that scratches many of my particular itches. Horror, emotional gutpunches, bold, thought-provoking reveals. Its tale is encapsulated by the affirmation its characters repeat to themselves when they falter: “For those who come after.” It’s as much a reminder of the future they fight for as a bleak reassurance their ends will mean something.
Clair Obscur teeters between grim and optimistic, and, yes, sometimes, even ridiculous, but it is always unexpected. It defies convention, and its refusal to be more of the same bleeds into more than just storytelling.
It was evident from the first time I squared up to an enemy. Epic music blares and the battle system explodes onto screen, gushing with flair and character. So far so familiar. Likewise, all the RPG mainstays are here: Attack, magic, special abilities. But the key difference is that you defend against strikes in real time. Enemies lunge with wind-up attacks, and you have to time dodges to weave away.
That’s the safe option, anyway.
The other path whispered sweet nothings into my ear, tempting me with a succulent risk vs reward parry system. I didn’t expect a battle system that looks to be born from a blend of Final Fantasy and Persona would have such a healthy dollop of Sekiro-like parries. You only have to read my Total Chaos impressions to know that a parry flicks every dopamine switch in my brain.
When the satisfying clang of my first deflection hit, and I learned flawless parry strings lead to brutal counters, perfecting it consumed me. Learning attack animations and deflection timings across several hellacious fights was the stint where this game became unforgettable. It drew me in with an obsessive demand for perfection akin to a Souls game, and it rewarded my studying.
Every perfect block gave me extra AP that powered my special abilities, allowing me to unleash deadly moves that finished the fight in seconds. And once I carved out that playstyle, evolving it became my mission. I created custom Pictos loadouts, and the collectable trinkets’ unique perks let me customise character builds I could strategise around. By the end, AP was a sweet nectar I feasted upon. My Pictos turned every string of parries into a sea of AP, which I’d funnel into Maelle so she could unleash Goku-level super moves between quaint taunts in her British accent.
Clair Obscur created a Frankensteined concoction of interwoven systems and RPG influences that had me written all over it. Its turn-based fights were strategic and allowed me to gain an advantage through tactical planning, but those plans relied on my honed Soulsborne skills in exploiting boss patterns and executing pinpoint deflections. It’s one of my favourite turn-based battle systems to date, because Clair Obscur isn’t content being every other RPG. Whether it’s the story or the fights, it tears pages out of the rulebook and rearranges them into something new, and I can’t wait for Sandfall Interactive to start ripping them out all over again.
Ollie: I can count on one hand the number of games whose stories have gripped me like Clair Obscur has. The first 30 minutes is already well-established as one of the strongest openings to any game, and the merciless twists and wonderful characters only seemed to hit harder as I progressed. There’s loving craftsmanship everywhere you look.