Childhood, Games, and Love
My mother and I had a deal: if I got 100% on my weekly school quizzes, I could rent a game from the local video store. Clips of browsing the selection compose my childhood memories. Maybe this is why I spend so much time browsing digital storefronts today.
When I found something special in 2002, it felt like discovering I had a secret admirer. In a way, developers crafting a game out of love is a form of admiration. It is entrancing to be thoughtfully considered.
“It is entrancing to be thoughtfully considered.”
Despelote wants us to understand something about Julián Cordero’s childhood.
Quito, Ecuador
Quito, where the game takes place, is in Ecuador—perhaps best known for the Galápagos Islands.
This place is rife with life and has struggled alongside other South American countries to keep its head above water. There’s no getting around the fact that this game takes place somewhere with less than the average United States citizen has—where I’m playing the game from.
Place is foundational to the experience of Despelote, so this all seems worth mentioning.
Observing the Everyday
John Cage’s *4′33″* comes to mind. We so often neglect the inherent art of our surroundings. Everyday noises fade into near nonexistence.
It is worth reminding oneself to appreciate the street they live on as though it were a framed picture.
That’s what this game does to a snapshot of a memory of a dream of childhood in Quito, in this particular year.
It frames it—beautifully.
The Joy of the Ball
The first thing you’ll notice is the art style.
The developers use real images of the city and process them heavily. Things you can interact with have a simple cartoon-drawing style—a stark contrast that makes the gameplay extremely clear.
The art style is reminiscent of shoegaze tones and album art. Visual distortion gives the narrative freedom to explore the fuzzy edges between dreams, memories, and real life.
Kicking the ball around is a great time. I love the soccer ball as a way of interacting with the world.
A Shift in Light
Near the end of the game, things change suddenly and drastically.
You explore a park in Quito where Julián spent time. The developers took 3D pictures and recorded audio on location. Instead of the familiar art, we’re abruptly placed in bright, natural light.
While the audio is relatively clear, the images are uncanny. Trees become recognizable only upon investigation.
The narration, ever-present throughout the game, turns inward. Julián reflects on the nature of memory—the vital inhale of childhood.