Ember's Journey Review

It's a 12-hour flight, about 4AM UK time, and only a few pilot lights are flashing along the cabin. The brightest one is a tiny bouncing white square flickering across my iPad's screen. This square is Ember, who's set out on a very personal venture. He's heard the tales of colours, which reflect different sorts of light and make you feel staggering emotions when you look at them. Unheeding the other squares' advice, he breaks out from his dull black-and-white life, in a black and white world, not knowing what may lie ahead.

As a 2D platformer, Ember's Journey does not excel in its basic movement mechanics. Sliding across the level, timing your jumps to the uncomplicated platforms is, in fact, no challenge at all. But what if it's too dark to see the platforms? Just like in the Tomb of Giants, you can only see what's very near around you, and barely. The light Ember emanates allows you to take the next leap, but nought else, which means that you can't plan ahead. You know the level is filled with mechanisms that you have to activate in the right order, but you ignore where they are. However, there is a less resplendent rectangle at the other end, which indicates the way out.

Much changes when you cannot see what's around you. Most platforms, fantastically designed and fresh at all times, are close enough that you can spot them with Ember's own shining, and get the jist of how they move. However, sometimes, you can't seem to find the path. In these cases, you need to take a leap of faith, letting yourself drop - or jump - to the abyss. In spite of the occasional frustration, it's quite the metaphor - though lulled due to the instant respawn - in a game treating personal goals, the struggle and the courage needed to meet them.

As you advance through the 76 levels that make up this surprisingly short game, you will find new mechanics, often cued with a splash of colour in the right spot. For example, orange blocks are moveable, but float, while brown ones sink. No level ever becomes a truly colourful experience; more often than not these colours get lost in sheer darkness. What's more, the number of colours - and new mechanics - introduced as you progress is perhaps a bit austere, with them being very few and quite repetitive.

The exposition of the story is quite minimalist , just like its gameplay and its visuals. Unlike the two latter, the story has little depth throughout. A few lines at the beginning of the game set you off, but that's about it. No more information is given to you, and at the end of the game, you don't get to see the surface or the colours themselves. It just... ends. This is why it's clear that the game is not about achieving goals, but about the fight and arduous work that comes before - the title alone is plenty suggestive. In order to convey this, special attention has been put into the music, providing with a transcendental but touchingly intimate small set of compositions - perhaps too small, as I heard them all in the time I completed a level. This music remarks the game's personal nature, capitalising on the importance of the journey for you, and nobody else.

All in all, this tiny piece of minimalist and personal art is awfully abstracting and reflective, albeit too simple. It may be a bit clunky to play - Unity, maybe? -, but even with low frame rate plus occasional glitches, there is a meaningful adventure waiting to be discovered.