Moving, utterly profound, visually stunning...
There’s a long list of adjectives I could use to praise this masterpiece of a game, but no number or combination of them could ever do justice to what is, objectively, one of the most beautiful things created in the last century. The love poured into every sentence spoken is tangible and magnificent. The art, carefully crafted by what must have been a reincarnation of Rembrandt himself, tells the story that the letters decide to omit, but never forget. It's a polyphony of regret, sensuality, and discovery.
The argument is simple: a young man returns to the city after a grueling day’s work . In the middle of the road, he encounters a humanoid beast with features resembling a wolf, which forces itself upon our hero and, in the process, metamorphoses him into another wolf. Here, the wolf — or werewolf — acts as a liberator, an agent of licentious freedom that breaks the shackles of self-repression society silently forges around the wrists and ankles of the spirit.
The game’s multiple endings make us question whether it is better to live one’s life as a wolf (free, powerful, and unobstructed by a synthetic psychological enclosure) — or as a man (castrated, resentful, but ultimately safe from physical harm).
“There are things which a man is afraid to tell even to himself, and every decent man has a number of such things stored away in his mind,” said the Underground Man. I can’t help but wonder whether Dostoevsky dreamed of this game before he ever thought of writing a book…
10/10. Congratulations.
