Ori and the Blind Forest

Developed by Moon Studios, Ori and the Blind Forest is a competent Metroidvania that tells a beautiful fable about the importance of compassion. It’s a formidable game, but one that would have benefited from a greater connection between gameplay and story.

The moving introduction of Ori and the Blind Forest follows Ori, a white guardian spirit, as he falls from the Spirit Tree during a storm and is found by a creature called Naru. The developers quickly establish the relationship between the two creatures in a brilliant scene: they appear working and having fun together at different points on the screen, but the images keep moving to the right, which suggests the passage of time and the forging of a beautiful bond between them. This intro works mainly due to the melancholic soundtrack and the adorable design of the characters: Ori resembles a baby fox and Naru a bear with serene features. We are led to empathize with them because they are cute and love each other, but we are falling into a trap.

The scene works because it proceeds to break expectations and our hearts. The Spirit Tree, desperate in search of Ori, causes a cataclysm, which makes the forest start to deteriorate. We are, then, surprised by a scene that subverts what came before: again, the characters appear at various points on the screen, but now moving in the opposite direction, to the left, with a ghostly aura. If their images previously symbolized the birth of a friendship, now they are memories and indicate tragedy. The soundtrack, which previously went in a resounding crescendo, follows the same logic and gradually dies, losing instruments and reinforcing the tragedy of the scene.

When this introduction ends, Ori and the Blind Forest actually begins. The game is a classic Metroidvania: Ori’s goal is to recover Nibel Forest from the cataclysm and, to accomplish this, he will have to explore huge locations in search of magical artifacts. By acquiring new powers and modifying parts of the world, previously blocked areas become accessible and Ori can explore more places.

At first, the game seems to follow genre tropes, with puzzles involving pulling levers and pushing blocks, while the new abilities boil down to the usual double jump and charge attack. Ori attacks with guided shots, which involves virtually no strategy on the part of the player, who should be concerned only with dodging enemy projectiles. The immediate novelty lies in the checkpoint system, since here checkpoints are created by the player, using a certain amount of energy – this gives more freedom to us while adding risk and strategy to an element that has always been static, far from our control: since checkpoints spend energy when created, the player who places them in the world without a second thought will often see themselves without energy just before a large area full of traps and dangers, where the checkpoints would be the most needed.

During its first hours, what impresses most in Ori and the Blind Forest is the quality of the presentation: the art style simulates hand-drawn art and evokes the works of Hayao Miyazaki (Ori, for example, has the same white aura as the forest spirits of Princess Mononoke), while the beautifully composed soundtrack makes use of flutes and piano to establish a melancholic atmosphere and a memorable main theme.

However, when the “Bash” ability is acquired, Moon Studios finally show ambition regarding the mechanics of the game. Bash changes everything, turning enemies, alongside their projectiles, into propellers that can allow Ori to reach higher platforms – thus making the player’s dynamic with the enemies more complex: instead of simply killing all the monsters Ori encounters, we are encouraged to observe their positioning in the level to find out if it is not better to use them as a “trampoline” to faraway places.

Not only that, but the Bash also propels the enemy/projectile to Ori’s opposite side, which makes it possible to use this ability as an attack (throwing a projectile back at the creature) or to solve puzzles. One puzzle, in particular, involves the continuous change of direction of a single projectile that should be propelled through several portals until it finally reaches and destroys a specific barrier.

These intelligent puzzles provide the game’s best moments, unlike the intense “escape sequences”, where Ori must get out of some structure while it collapses over him. They are intense set-pieces that cherish spectacle and, because they require very fast reflexes, end up falling into a repetitive case of trial and error, as Ori can be suddenly crushed by stones or other elements of the environment that were not sufficiently signaled as dangerous.

The game also suffers from some narrative problems, as it forgets about its introduction for a long while. There is a clear divide between the tragedy at the beginning of the game and basically everything Ori does in his adventure to save the forest. The action seems to occur in a different context, as if Naru never existed. If the introduction was removed, for instance, few things would change in the core game, except the ending, when the relationship between Naru and the protagonist is resumed. The narrative’s focus is, in fact, placed on the antagonist Kuro, a huge owl who wants to destroy the Spirit Tree, while Naru is no longer mentioned until the climax. In the Definite Edition, an exclusive area shows the past of Naru and of her race, but it still adds little to her relationship with Ori.

This is a pity, since the director and writer Thomas Maller is great at developing the main theme of the story, constantly establishing affectionate relationships and showing the positive fruits of compassion and kindness. If he had been able to tie the events of the introduction more closely to the protagonist’s motivation, the game’s story would have been better structured and, consequently, even more impactful.

In fact, the writer also stumbles into a problem when attempting to humanize the owl Kuro. By linking its motivation to a tragedy, Maller transfers the blame for the events to another character in that universe, but doesn’t address the issue. In the end, the player wonders if it wouldn’t be better for everyone involved to just forget about Nibel and go to a place that isn’t governed by a deeply selfish and inconsequential being. A blind forest indeed, but blind to the suffering of others.

With an excellent introduction that is sadly forgotten until the climax, Ori and the Blind Forest is a game that makes up for its narrative flaws by exploring new and interesting mechanics. Overall, it’s a great Metroidvania with a moving story.

March 24, 2020.

Review originally published in Portuguese on July 27, 2016.