Blueberry Review (Xbox Series X|S)

Is someone cutting onions, or is it just that blueberry-baked heartache pie that’s bubbling out of Mellow Games’ melancholic oven? Either way, suddenly it feels as if I’m weeping through the pages of A Memoir Blue all over again — ravaged, restless, and lost in a tale that has a lot more to offer than basic interactive conundrums and a few lightweight puzzles.

Blueberry, in particular, has a lot more to give than a few snippets of textbook platforming. If anything, it’s a heart-wrenching read—an era-hopping journey that takes us, the dreary-eyed spectators, through a story that’s as equally fascinating as it is woefully intimate. It’s still a platforming game with, well, platforming elements. But it’s also a lot more than that. It’s a tale that touches on parenthood, traumatic experiences, and the greatest elixirs of life. And it captures all of these stories in a brilliantly written manner, too, with each of its tales transpiring over an entire generation. In one moment you’re a child, desperately seeking the comfort of a parent in a turbulent time, whereas in another you’re tricking through your golden years, staring at your former self in an attempt to absolve past events.

Blueberry is the sort of game that you tiptoe into and then immediately forget the reason why you were there, to begin with. A subtle strand in the narrative yanks on your heartstrings, and it pulls you into an episodic journey where chemistry quells entry-level platforming, and brief bursts of misery highlight the things that matter most. Before long, you forget the simple aspects of the journey—the basic platforming and what have you—and you find yourself on the edge of your seat, asking questions, unraveling answers, and witnessing the transition of a trying protagonist.

Blueberry centers its world around the titular woman—a character who, in the wake of loss and newfound responsibilities, sets out to ascend the Tower of Life. The tower, which serves as the game’s platforming hub, invites you to explore Blueberry’s mind, quell perplexing emotions via choice-based dialogue, and shape the narrative en route to a moldable climax. On the way, you knuckle through various pivotal phases of life. For example, as a child you explore seemingly harmless pastimes—”borrowing” cookies, for instance. In other phases, you engage in verbal warfare as a teenager, as well as face challenges as a parent.

The game unfolds in an episodic manner, with each section of Blueberry’s journey telling its own story—a tale that you yourself can tailor to strengthen bonds, loosen the grip on them, or simply use to cause a little trouble in the kitchen. There are light mini-games to play, characters to formulate relationships with, and, of course, a tower of memories to sift through. And for the most part, that’s all that Blueberry is: a mirror into a world of memories—a “tower” of emotions and life-altering events that you must wax poetic with in order to progress. A child; a teenager; a mother; an elderly woman. Every phase has a tale to tell, and it falls to you to shape it.

While there’s no denying the fact that Blueberry is rather short on original gameplay segments, its plot and its dialogue certainly lift most of the weight here. To that end, it isn’t a game that you remember for the gameplay, but rather, the critical moments that shape the narrative. And frankly, Blueberry has a lot of them — to the point where you spend your time either fondly connecting with the characters and relating to their struggles, or shedding the faintest of tears at a momentary shift in the game’s spiraling trajectory. It keeps you on your feet, is what I’m saying here, and honestly, it does a brilliant job of keeping you there.

To further reinforce its appeal as a story-driven game, Blueberry comes clean with a beautiful and vibrant visual style. While rather minimal in parts, its quaint design and children’s book-like aesthetic certainly shine bright here, with each phase in Blueberry’s tale having its own distinct color scheme and pattern, purpose and emotion. For example, during your younger years you have bright lights and a soothing sense of flamboyance, whereas the darker periods of your journey—the teenage angst era, naturally—you have deep blues and crimson reds. It’s a small touch, yet one that works incredibly well here.

To state the obvious, Blueberry is a very simple game that, honestly, doesn’t take much to complete. With no challenges to endure and no physical roadblocks to overcome, it truly is as simple as sitting back for a while and watching a story unfold, panel by panel. To that end, you don’t need to be well versed in the art of platforming. Rather, you just need to be willing to sit and witness the evolution of a woman as she battles through her formative years and toward old age. It’s keeping the rollercoaster of emotions at bay, that’s the tough part.

Verdict

Blueberry is like a fine wine: comforting, calculated, and yet, in certain doses, enough to make you weep into the bottom of the cask like a toddler. With a firm grasp on its storytelling abilities and a familiar yet woeful chemistry with its characters, it stands tall as a one-of-a-kind experience that, while still light on its toes and without the weight of a brilliant gameplay style, does more than enough to tug on your heart and leave you something to write home about.

Suffice it to say that, if games like A Memoir Blue, Hindsight, or Open Roads are to your liking, then it’s likely that you’ll enjoy sweeping through the motions and the memories of Blueberry’s journey. It’ll make you smile, and it’ll probably make you sob. To me, a game that can bring out a cocktail of emotions is the mark of a great experience, and honestly, I can’t help but think that Blueberry is one of the greatest of ‘em all. You can take from that what you will, folks.