Booting up Celeste for the first time had me eager. Despite being over a year late to the party, I still couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement as I watched the snow start to fall over the title screen, and heard the very first chords of Lena Raine’s award-winning soundtrack.

Celeste is a platformer. A brutal one. For fans who have experienced games like Super Meat Boy and N++, Celeste will be a charming refresher to the headache-inducing challenge posed by the platformer genre. Celeste, like most other platformers, features simple controls that are hard to master. Pair those with split-second reactions, chapter-long puzzles, and an abundance of secrets, you'll rack up a few thousand deaths on your playthrough.

Besides gameplay, I often found myself simply listening to its beautiful soundtrack. One of my biggest motivators in the game was it's music, as each chapter featured its own collection of music and mechanics that helped connect me with the protagonist and her journey up the mountain.


One of Celeste’s most unique traits is its narrative. Most other platformers often lack any semblance of a story or follow a basic “hero out to rescue a damsel in distress” plotline to pose a “goal” for the player. Celeste instead uses its gameplay to convey the story. You play as Madaline, a mopey protagonist determined to climb Celeste Mountain. Playing through the first chapter, you don't get to see much of Madaline’s character, as it's shrouded in her cold, grouchy demeanor. That isn't until you happen upon Theo. In my first playthrough, I was excited, but impatient to reach the next chapter, as my constant failure began to frustrate me. Speaking to Theo instead offered me a brief respite, as I experienced a charming dialogue between a relaxing loner from Seattle, and the tense, mysterious Madaline. Theo ended up as a recurring character, and one of my favorites, as he became essentially the gateway to Madaline’s story, and kept me searching for him each chapter.

Progressing through the game, you begin to discover a game about depression and anxiety, as both Madaline’s and Theo’s intentions become clear. It resonated with me. Madaline’s story isn't about simply reaching the peak of Celeste Mountain, it's about standing ground against the parts of yourself that scare you. Celeste doesn't shy away from tough themes, as most games don't feature open conversations about what depression really feels like, or game mechanics formed from coping mechanisms. Playing through each chapter slowly unveiled a metaphor for an abusive relationship, as the mountain personifies Madaline’s self-loathing into an antagonist, and it's what really connected me with its story. Celeste didn't pose itself to be hard just for hard’s sake, but it confronts the player with a dynamic, realistic setting, as most of the game’s scenery shapes itself around Madeline and her conflict.

Celeste easily became a favorite for me. It's serene music, like the delicate piano that follows Madaline through her journey, or the calming guitar that accompanies the gentle Theo, both stands out as a soundtrack, and as a tool to weave Celeste’s personal story. It's challenge both aids the narrative, and keeps me coming back for more, as I continue to play it hoping to collect every collectible for it's “secret ending.” Celeste goes beyond, and truly illustrates an unforgettable experience that cannot be missed, and cements itself as one of my favorite indie projects of all time.