You may have heard of What Remains of Edith Finch, and if so, you likely have a good idea of the sort of experience it provides.
Sometimes, games rely on complex mechanics to draw the player in. I, like many of us, enjoy getting to grips with shiny new systems, opening them up like magical puzzle boxes.
Other games do not seek to capture their audience in this way. Rather, they present the player with a complete world that runs on a predetermined path, where the individual takes hold of their controller and proceeds with no confusion as to their next move. What Remains of Edith Finch, first released in 2017, falls firmly into this category.
In this game, we play the titular Edith as she returns to her childhood home. She undertakes a solitary journey to the island that is the source of so much traumatic memory for her.
The developers seek to immerse the player in the narrative, as shown from the game’s outset. We leap into a first-person perspective where we sit on a boat and stare out to sea as the floating title of the game draws away into the distance. Edith’s voice, soon to feel so familiar, becomes an arrow that points us onward toward the house at the center of the Finch family mystery. We take a slow walk through the forest, and here we make one of the few choices we can make on this trip: take the high road, or the low? In the end, the difference is minimal, and all paths lead home. You soon spot it ahead of you, towering, improbable, like a birdhouse built in the dark out of discarded craft shop junk. You must find a way inside. You clamber in through a cat flap, as if Edith no longer belongs here, clarifying her intruder status.
Intuitive gameplay eases us further in. You press a trigger to interact with objects and move the sticks to induce movement in the world. Though extremely simple, the controls connect us with the landscape, both physically and emotionally. Your hand opens the book, pushes the door, and turns the key.
This sense of presence contributes greatly to the success of What Remains of Edith Finch yet does not make the game unique. Other titles such as Dear Esther and, to an even greater degree, Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, also manage to generate this feeling of immediacy. The game surpasses them through the exploration of an entire family’s history, as through the structure of play we come to inhabit many members of the unfortunate Finch dynasty, and we participate directly in their fates.
This journey of discovery opens to us slowly. As she peers through the keyhole of a sealed room, Edith tells us that “Every Finch who ever lived is buried somewhere in the library.” The library represents the collective memories of the Finches, and so, to an even larger degree, does the house. The discovery of a concealed door defines how we will traverse this realm as we crawl into the underbelly of the Finch residence. Through the walls, we burrow into recollection.
As Edith uncovers her family members’ rooms, the game introduces shifts in tone and style that keep the player engaged. One memorable tale uses the framing device of an EC horror title to great effect, with a lurid comic-book palette, complete with a pseudo-Crypt Keeper and judicious use of a totemic horror tune. The different chapters present new gameplay elements, which although never revolutionary, stimulate our interest, such as the addition of some basic melee. Another section functions like a factory simulator as you perform a repetitive task while simultaneously concentrating on another unrelated action. These work well to keep the flow going, but on balance more of these elements could have been introduced.
What Remains of Edith Finch also focuses on the nature of what makes a home, what it takes to leave that comfort, and the pain induced by return. The emigrant founders of the Finch dynasty lose their first house in the journey to their new land and build another in its place. Over the years, the house expands, layer upon layer, in uncomfortable extrusions that never quite fit, but where each occupant has left a part of themselves. It’s a visual depiction of a conflict between belonging and never quite fitting in that I expect many can identify with.
The Finch family stories often center on children, from babies to teenagers, and each has a sad tale to tell. If you have any reservations about such material, I advise you to turn back. The events of these chapters can be stark and uncompromising but necessarily drive home the idea that the Finch family tree is withering. Some of them think this is due to a curse, and the game plays with this possibility, leaving you wondering whether their bad luck has been caused by supernatural intervention or ordinary misfortune. I won’t give too much of the plot away, as to steal the story from its audience would be a disservice to them and the game’s creators.
What Remains of Edith Finch excels in its visual storytelling. Rush through the game and you miss a lot. From the shelves and tables piled with books on subjects that provide hints into the owner’s character to family photos, childish decorations, and portraits painted in wood, all serve to build an atmosphere that you may not even notice until it surrounds you entirely. As this happens, the game elicits sensations that other productions only manage through melodrama or grim scenarios devoid of light. Here we find tragedy blended with beauty, in a sweetly poisoned dish. Even when we reach a desperate ending, the game gives the player glimpses of a happy memory, which somehow steals the breath from us even more.
The graphical approach emphasizes this, offering realism blended with a cartoonish, surreal sensibility, in some ways reminding me of the Life is Strange games, except with an even greater sense of exaggeration. The tree limbs curl and twist into the night sky in improbable ways, a comically large bathtub reflects the size of its occupant, and a kite swoops through the air, trailing items behind it like the tail of Halley’s comet. One section depicts a realm made purely from the imagination and adopts a more basic style, where structures and textures are simplistic and faces are blank ovals, marking their separation from “reality.” The level of detail elsewhere is astounding, likely made possible due to the limitations of the game, as you can only interact with a relatively small percentage of the environment. Usually, this results in Edith adding a comment or reflection on the family and her life with them. These are almost always worth hearing, but a few more chances to engage directly with her world would be welcome.
The voice acting underpins the experience and heightens everything, with Valerie Rose Lohman as Edith being an especial highlight. As Doctor Emily Nuth, Julia Farino frames one of the narratives with such skill that the emotional impact is undoubtedly much greater than it could possibly have been otherwise. I also appreciated that, for a change, they used actual child actors to play the children. There is always something a little off when these roles are played by adults putting on little kid voices, and we thankfully avoid that here. Many of the actors do not have extensive voice-acting credits, making their performances even more commendable.
What Remains of Edith Finch has a lyrical soundtrack by Jeff Russo, known for his excellent work on several of the newer Star Trek series. It opens with simple, haunting piano music, a tremulous track that reflects the sadness and longing of Edith on the path to the past. The orchestral soundtrack never overpowers, and Russo carefully introduces other instrumentation to reflect the changing nature of the stories. Dark strings soar to life in a chapter involving a monster from the briny deep. One story features a band that increasingly grows in size and volume, marching towards an inevitable climax. In a game such as this, the score plays a crucial role, and Russo lives up to the task by capturing the melancholy of loss in every note.
The audio landscape also impresses. When we inhabit the house, the creaks and groans of its timbers accompany us, the sounds of an ancient, hobbled property. When we venture outside, the rustling and sighing of nature remind us of the remote location the house exists in. Perhaps the most heart-rending use of audio for me happened when a chapter concluded with one brief sound effect that emerged from the speaker on the controller, a sparing use of this oft-neglected feature, deployed to devastating effect.
I can understand why some may be put off by Edith Finch‘s on-rails nature, and that is fair. Not everyone is willing to accept the loss of extensive gameplay elements in exchange for clarity of narrative vision, which a more cinematic approach often gives. Also, to be clear, What Remains of Edith Finch will not keep you occupied for long. You will spend little more than a few hours with Edith, and for some, this will be a dealbreaker. In that time, though, you experience sweetness, joy, dread, longing, and regret, in intensities rarely found in any medium. So, take a walk to that house, and like Edith, part of you will never leave.
