It may not look it, but Chicory: A Colorful Tale is a game about imposter syndrome. It lulls you into a false sense of security, with the cute characters and dialog and with the way you can literally colour the world with a magical paintbrush. Then, out of nowhere, it solidifies itself as a much more hard hitting, and emotional experience. 

This moment, for me, was entering a simple black room. The world’s colour inverted and all of a sudden I was trapped in a boss fight with a giant staring eyeball, the music intense and pounding. It felt like such a shock compared to the rest of the experience, and when I was finished with it, the game just… went back to normal. At least for a little bit. Chicory is a lot more than it seems on the surface, and that is what makes it so special.

The game opens with a dog that the player will end up naming after their favourite food. In my case, her name was Lasagne. They are the janitor, employed by the wielder of the magical paintbrush, whose job it is to keep the world colourful. Lasagne has always dreamed of something bigger, of one day being able to wield the brush herself, so when they find the brush mysteriously abandoned by the current wielder.. .well… can you really blame her for taking it for a spin?

The brush itself eventually gains new abilities too. Such as lighting up dark areas or even letting you swim through the paint like an Inkling from Splatoon. Eventually you can even swim up walls or through the ocean so long as it is coated in a liberal splattering of paint. Chicory does an amazing job of signposting areas where you will learn new abilities, teasing you with a glimpse of something interesting the next screen over that you are as of yet unable to access. I was amazed at how easily it managed to surpass my expectations with each new powerup. Seeing two trees blocking my path, I waited for the game to give me a way to destroy them. Instead, your paint swimming ability allows you to slip in between them – entirely not what I expected, but entirely more satisfying.

Your parents are also a constant staple of the game. You can call home for hints from any phone booth at any time and your Mum will give you a subtle nudge in the right direction. If you still need more help, you can ask mum to pass the phone to Dad and he will tell you exactly what to do from there. It was so cute that I didn’t even feel bad for how many times I needed to get Dad to give me directions because I kept forgetting where I was meant to go next.

The other character you will spend the most time with is Chicory. The character for whom the game is named, like a looming reminder that maybe you were never meant to be the protagonist. Maybe this is just a role you have inherited from somewhere else.

The province of Picnic leads you along delicately, with plenty of sign posting to keep you eager to learn more about what there is to find. Each area feels different, with new plants, new mechanics and a new track in the amazing soundtrack. The music is subtle and understated, but enough to make every location in the game feel different and vibrant, from the cheery sounds in the big city of Dinners to the calming music in the rainforest. It carries you the whole way though the game, and it really kicks in when you finally reach one of the boss fights. All of a sudden, you are listening to a downright banger.

The boss fights are such an intense tonal shift that every single time they will rip you to shreds, not only with the change in music and gameplay style, but with what each fight actually represents, and what each fight makes you feel. It is brutal, it doesn’t hold its punches, but it never feels… mean. Chicory does an amazing job of maintaining the perfect balance between realism and fiction. The emotions and struggles it addresses are very real and intimidating, but it never dwells on them for too long. Just enough to get you thinking before letting you back out to paint the world. I would dare call it a perfect balance.

Every little detail does such an amazing job of capturing exactly what the game is trying to be. Cute little additions work well, like the ability to change your clothes, decorate your small lonely house, and of course the painting. It feels like such a wonderful escape and so much fun, but it quickly reminds you that even something that seems fun and freeing (like painting!) can still twist into a painful and inescapable desire for perfectionism.